Going to church with social anxiety and infertility

I'm having a hard time at the moment.

Sunday was hard.

Today has also been difficult. I feel like I'm living the overflow of depression that was Sunday.

I'm trying to stay positive but it is difficult.

As I tried to analyze my feelings, I realized that I have a very large compartment of feelings all their own for "going-to-church-with-social-anxiety" versus "going-to-work-with-social-anxiety" versus "dealing-with-people-due-to-social-anxiety". I used to think the "work" or "people" aspect of my social anxiety was the biggest. I'm figuring out, though, that church might very well be the biggest obstacle of all to overcome, and that there is more to it than meets the eye. And I'm not sure how to do it.

I've tried so hard these past few weeks to go over my therapy, read the positive statements, and fight off my automatic negative thoughts. And I thought I was doing better. I even felt better in work meetings. I felt better during interactions with people. I thought I had made progress.

And then Sunday came. And it felt as though all the progress I had made had been for nothing because I couldn't fight the onslaught of negativity that hit me head-on when I thought about going to church. Just thinking about going to church brought on feelings of despair, anger, depression and helplessness.

But I made myself go. Because that's what I do. And as I sat in sacrament meeting I had an overwhelming desire to leave. To never come back. To never have to deal with this again. And I have to say that if it weren't for the fear of losing my marriage or hurting my family, I would do it. I would walk away and never come back. Not because it's not true, but because it's just too hard to be there.

And I also realized as I was sitting in my if-I-had-my-way-this-would-be-my-last church meeting, that there was much more to it than social anxiety. Much more.

I mentioned in a previous post that my husband and I have been dealing with infertility for the last 4 years. We were late bloomers and married in our mid-30's, five years ago. Now I am only six months away from 40 and my child bearing years are diminishing right before my very eyes. We tried invitro, which ended in a devastating ectopic pregnancy. And just last month, we had to walk away from a 2nd attempt at invitro because the expense was impossible to meet.

And there I sat. In a sacrament meeting surrounded by babies. Everywhere I turned there were mothers and babies. And I felt angry. I felt sad. I felt cheated. I felt out of place. I saw before me, a hopeless future of dealing with this horrendous pain the rest of my life. Because we belong to a church that is all about babies. All about children. All about motherhood. And all about families. And we don't fit in. We don't fit the mold of a typical Mormon couple. And this would be our curse forever. And I didn't want anything to do with it.

I fought my way through the rest of the meetings and when we got home I told my husband how I felt. That if I could walk away and never go back I would, because it is torturous to be there. And I knew it would never change because that is the culture of the church. No matter how true the gospel is, the culture is made up of talks, activities, celebrations and discussions about babies, mothers and families. And we would never fit. And I wished I could take a few months off to get a handle on this, but in the back of my mind I knew if I took a break, I would never return.

So here I sit today, reviewing my thoughts and realizing there is so much more to it than dreading church because of social anxiety. It is also dreading church because of infertility. And yet it is all sweetly intertwined.

Social anxiety is based on the intense fear of being judged.

People with social anxiety do not want to be singled out.

People with social anxiety fear everyone is talking about them or looking at them, criticizing what they're doing or who they are.

I am infertile, in a very fertile church (so to speak)

I do stand out.

I am talked about.

I am pitied (and that's as hard as being criticized).

And the worst part is, there is nothing I can do to control or change it.

So I feel out of place, judged and insecure because I will never be like the typical LDS woman.

And I feel judged because I do stand out and will always stand out among the norm.

And I feel judged because I know people talk about me and wonder why we don't have kids

And I feel judged and insecure because the RS President shares personal stories with people and I know she has shared mine

And I feel judged and insecure because I know I will be asked for a lifetime why we don't have kids.

And I feel judged and insecure because I will always be the one who gets a flower on Mother's Day even though I'm not a mom.

And I feel judged and insecure and sad because I am pitied and no one wants to feel pitied.

I will never fit in. How can I? Even if I were to adopt I would still feel out of place because I couldn't share my birth story, which with Mormons, could happen at any given time.

Now I know the "everyone is talking about me" and "everyone is pitying me" statements sound a bit like a teenager, and I can admit that they aren't completely true or rational, but it's simply how I feel.

And with that, I will conclude my post. I have a huge obstacle to face and somehow overcome.

My social anxiety is intertwined with my infertility. And if I'm ever going to gain a love for going to church again and a desire to be part of a ward family, then I have a lot to figure out. And overcome.

• I need to somehow find peace and security in my state of fertility.
• I need to learn how not to compare myself to other people and how I do or don't fit the LDS mold.
• I need to find a way to separate my feelings of insecurity as they relate to infertility.
• I need to admit that my thoughts aren't completely true or rational, when it comes to how I think others are viewing me.
• I need to focus on the gospel instead of the culture of the church.
• I need to embrace the fact that I do stand out and will always stand out among the norm. And make that a blessing instead of a curse.

Trying not to dread Sunday

I've been so good at working on my social anxiety. I've made sure that I do the therapy every day when at all possible. The only time I've had to skip a couple days has been during vacation time when I haven't had any alone time. I am conscientious about doing it and have seen results.

This past weekend my husband and I took a trip to visit some family in a nearby state. I was hoping to feel at ease when participating in activities we'd planned, that in the past have been anxiety triggers. To my pleasant surprise, I felt at ease the whole time. And if I felt myself starting any sort of anxiety thinking (talking myself into feeling it because I didn't) I stopped myself successfully. It was a good feeling.

I did find myself having a little anxiety moment when talking with a family member after my trip, which kind of tripped me up (no pun intended), but I realized afterwards that I'd done a little self-sabotaging (the whole talking myself into feeling it because I hadn't during my trip thing). I know, it doesn't make sense. I decided not to dwell on it too much because I had done so well over the weekend.

But now I find myself in another quandary. Sunday is approaching. The old all too familiar feelings of "Sunday Anxiety", I'll call it, are creeping in. I have dreaded Sundays for so long, I don't know how not to. It's so much easier to dread it than to try to talk myself into feeling okay about it. I'm realizing this part of my healing is going to take a lot of work.

I'm trying to focus on keeping my negative thoughts out - specifically about going to church and all that comes with it - having to interact with the people and participate in primary activities and teach my class and interacting with my children's parents - but I'm finding it more and more difficult each minute I think about it. I know I'll bring on major anticipatory anxiety by doing that so I'm trying hard not to.

How do you talk yourself into liking squash when you've detested it for years? That's what it feels like to me. Saying, "You like church. It will be fine. It doesn't have to be unpleasant. The people are nice. You'll learn to like it." just isn't cutting it for me. I'm having a hard time. It's so much easier to keep on hating it than figuring out how to genuinely like it again. I wish I could call in sick.

It's Thursday night. I have two and a half days to figure it out. Wish me luck.

Learning to Relax

The most amazing thing happened to me this morning. I was finally able to completely relax. And it was life changing.

Part of the therapy is a relaxation exercise. It's about finding the peace and being able to take it with you out into the world. I thought it would be easy. I mean, how hard is it to lay down and listen to a relaxation CD that walks you through the process of relaxing and letting go? Well, to my surprise, it wasn't that easy. For me.

The last few times I've tried it, I have either not been completely comfortable or was not able to fully relax. Until this morning.

And I realized why.

It's not some life changing answer, it's simple. I was alone.

The past few times I tried the relaxation CD (which assumes that you're listening alone), my husband was either in the next room or lying next to me in bed. And although I told him what I was listening to through my headphones and asked him to please not interrupt me, I still wasn't able to fully relax. I found myself holding back, as if on guard for a possible interruption.

This morning, as my husband left early for an appointment and I groggily kissed him goodbye, I felt the pain of a knot shoot across my neck. Either I had slept on it wrong or the stress of yesterday had burrowed itself in my neck. I tried to go back to sleep but could find no comfortable position.

As I looked at the clock and decided I was definitely not ready to get up, I also knew I was not looking forward to a day with a kink in my neck. So I took a chance. I decided to listen to the CD (even though I had just listened last night), in hopes that I would not only loosen up my tight muscles, but find out if listening to the relaxation CD alone really made a difference.

And then...magic.

I got comfortable.

I turned on the CD.

I followed the promptings to relax my muscle groups one by one.

I listened to the words instead of trying to hear all that was said.

I continuously combated the to-do's, have-to's and don't-want-to's that flooded my mind.

And then somehow, I think for the first time in years, I subdued my alert system. The system that is always armed. The one that expects interruptions. The one that listens for noises. The one that listens for intruders. The one that promotes worry, fear and anticipation, whether rational or not. I don't know if it's caused by watching too many Lifetime movies, or a slight psychosis, but whatever it is, I don't think it's been unarmed for years. And although it took major-brain- redirect to disable it, it finally went down.

And at that moment, I felt lighter than I had in years. I literally felt like I was floating. I felt free. I felt peaceful. I had finally let go at a level I hadn't before. It was a feeling that I imagine comes with laying on a soft knit hammock under two shade trees on a warm, secluded beach, with the air filled with sweet blossoms and the only sounds, rolling waves and seagulls flying high above.

It took me there. Without the cost of a tropical vacation.

And as the relaxation exercise came to a close and the stresses boring into my neck had disappeared, I felt more peaceful than I had in years, and I drifted back to sleep.

What I learned:

• Real relaxation takes effort but is worth every bit of the effort you give it.
• Taking time for deliberate meditation every day will change you and your life.
• Meditation is much cheaper than a Hawaiian vacation but gives you the same results.

Negative thoughts beyond social anxiety

Something dawned on me as I was reading through the overcoming social anxiety therapy material, with regards to negative thinking.

All this time I was really focusing on situations or thoughts directly associated with social anxiety, i.e. dreading upcoming events, recalling embarrassment, fearing situations, fearing certain people, ...but then I realized stopping automatic negative thinking can do so much more than just help alleviate social anxiety.

Let me elaborate.

I really love my job but there are still days I wish I didn't have to put down the project I started or I wish I could just take the afternoon off to sit on the couch and watch a movie. But I realized that the way we think really shapes our opinions and outcome of many situations.

• "I don't want to go to work today" = annoyance and bitterness towards going to work and I end up having to go anyway, but now I have an ugly mood to go with me
• "I hate going to church" = dreading going to church every Sunday, anticipating the worst, and starting to dread weekends (insert ugly mood)
• "I hate visiting teaching" = major anxiety and never wanting to be part of it, physical symptoms of dread at the mere mention of it

The way we think, shapes our mood and often leads to an outcome that makes us feel even worse.

From what we think, we create.

(pretty good quote - I just thought of it)

Speaking of quotes, there is a very powerful quote in the therapy that says something like, once you get a handle on your negative thinking the balance of power in your life will switch.

That statement really resonated with me. The fact that I can reclaim the power over my life that social anxiety has taken away is not only hopeful, but very, very powerful. It's what I want and I will do everything I can to get it back.

Now with that said, I do have to share something I'm not very proud of, but something I am woman enough to admit. You know that upcoming meeting I mentioned a little while back that I was trying not to dread? Well, I won't have to dread it anymore because I made up an excuse not to be there.

I know, it's totally going against everything I'm working for, but there are times when even the best of us can't face the bully in the eye. The thoughts of having to introduce myself to a large group and participate in team building activities gave me nothing but a one-way ticket to psychoville. I thought about it every day and knew it might break me if I didn't get out of it. I just wasn't ready.

And although I am stronger than I was a month or two ago, and that I would probably get through it alive, I wasn't willing to take that chance yet. I was afraid that if I failed this test it would destroy me and all that I've worked toward. I couldn't face the prospect of a set-back like that. I need to be stronger before facing something so daunting. And I know it's avoidance, but hopefully I'll move forward to a place that when the times comes to face the bully again, I can face it head-on with my head held high.

Relief Society Pres update:

My relief society president means well (why is it that I always seem to start my sentences off with that when it comes to her?). She called and left a message the other night inviting me to a women's karaoke night at the church. I had to laugh because while her effort is so well intended, her understanding of my anxiety is so off the mark. Karaoke? hahaha. Never. In my mind I picture a cartoon entitled: "Social Anxiety Karaoke Club". And all you see is a stage and a microphone.

By the way, I'm still having a hard time practicing talking more slowly to people (in therapy it's called "slow talk") in order to control anxiety. It's not that it's all that difficult, I'm just not sure how to do it naturally. I still feel like I sound a bit like a slurry drunk. And not that it hasn't crossed my mind, because alcohol would certainly take the edge off (ha!), it's not really the "look" I'm going for. But I'll keep practicing! (minus the alcohol)

surviving a weekend away

This past weekend my husband and I spent the weekend out of town with my family.

This was my first time away from the security and structure of being able to do my therapy at home. And I'll admit, I began to panic.

The therapy exercises require a private place to read out loud every day. And I would soon be in a house surrounded by people with no way of having a moment of quiet time, let alone a place where I could read aloud something that would sound bizarre to an innocent bystander.

So in an effort to calm myself down and stay true to my commitment to therapy, I made a photo copy of my read aloud material to bring with me. With this effort, I hoped I would somehow find a quiet place to read over the therapy material, without missing a beat.

I have heard Dr. Richards say not to "freak out", for lack of a better phrase, if you can't do it every day. For one who is a little "all or nothing", however, the thought of breaking my pattern of daily therapy brought on major anxiety. If I had no way of doing it, would I fall off the wagon and never get back on? That was a real concern since I've fallen off the wagon before.

Well, I'm happy to say that even though I never had a chance to read the therapy this weekend, it's message was always in the back of my mind. Reassuring me and calming me. And even though I *tested myself once or twice (I'll explain more in a minute), this morning, back in the quiet of my own home, I resumed as though I'd never missed a beat. Whew! What a relief.

Okay, let me explain about *testing myself this weekend.

There have been times where, for whatever reason, a situation that would normally bring me anxiety, doesn't. And instead of just enjoying it, I sabotage it. I begin telling myself "What's wrong with you? You should feel nervous. This always makes you anxious. Are you sure you aren't starting to feel anxious? I think you are..." And then the nerves kick in because I called them back from the dead. Why? Because that's how my mind has worked for a lifetime. It's an old habit, an automatic pattern in my brain that I'm trying to break and my old habits are giving me some resistance. Because old habits don't like to change.

Did I pass my tests? About 90% of the time. I did have a little anxiety once or twice during a conversation, but I pushed through it. I felt good to at least be able to push through it, and that the episode wasn't debilitating.

And what that tells me, is that the therapy is working. It's kind of like diet and exercise. You may not see immediate results, but your body is gradually changing and one day when you least expect it, you'll see that your clothes no longer fit the same way and the scale has dropped. It's a good feeling to know that even though it's hard to see the gradual changes, I know I'm slowly turning in the right direction. By choosing to do the therapy each day, it is making an impact that will change my old thought habits and behavior patterns until one day it will be as if my social anxiety never existed at all...