Whew! Made it through another Sunday.
I know, this is getting redundant.
But believe me, it's an every week accomplishment!
Church yesterday was another difficult one. I swear that social anxiety ebs and flows like a monthly cycle. Am I wrong? There's a blip of time through the month I feel almost confident, other times just regular, while other times I'm exceptionally anxious. Hormone related? I may have to read about that. Or start charting my anxiety. But who wants to do that?
I'm still in shock that I made it to church yesterday. My husband had something work-related Sunday morning (which never happens), but which meant I would be going to church alone. Usually if my husband can't go to church for whatever reason, I break out the party hats and celebrate my "get-out-of-church" free pass! But I felt like I should go.
I had a calling to fulfill and if I didn't go, it was difficult to find someone to replace me. It would be one thing if I called and got a sub, but quite another if I just didn't show up. Rude.
I battled the decision back and forth in my head and finally decided that at least I would go for relief society. But even then I wouldn't call it a "firm" decision. If even the faintest wind of doubt blew, I might cave in and not go.
But as I went throughout my morning doing other things as I passed the time, I knew in my heart it was the Sabbath day. A day set aside from the rest of the week to put aside our own cares and desires, and worship Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. I couldn't pretend it was just other day, because it wasn't. And I needed to go to church.
So I got ready and even went in time for most of Sunday School. But wow, I felt "off". Was it because I had missed sacrament meeting? I felt like I had stumbled into the middle of a 3 act play. My heart was beating hard in my chest and my anxiety was high for no real reason, as I sat in my Sunday School seat. I tried to focus and calm down my insides as the questions kept going over in my mind, "How did I get here??"; "Why didn't I just stay home??"; "You had a free pass for heaven's sake!".
But I suffered through it, high on anxiety, as if to expect at any moment the teacher to call me up to do a tap dance. What was wrong with me? Why did I feel so anxious? Was it a cycle shift? Geeze Louise!
But as the closing prayer ended in Sunday School, I opened my eyes to find my sweet husband coming in the far door. My heart filled with warmth to see his smile.
For a moment I envisioned the after-life, in the eternities, and we were both there. Not one without the other. And all at once I knew I had made the right choice to come to church. I wanted to be with him forever, as is our marital promise, as we keep our covenants and live faithfully. And I would live the commandment to go to church because I love my husband and won't leave him standing alone because I promised to be there. Always.
Every week it seems I need something concrete to "convince me" to get to church because my social anxiety makes it so difficult. These little moments of enlightenment, these "Sunday Revelations", are what keep me going. What helps me to get to church one week, may not be what helps me the next, so I need a list to help me a long. I'm grateful for God's little graces.
Showing posts with label anxiety and Sundays. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anxiety and Sundays. Show all posts
Monday, May 6, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
Life isn't just to be endured, it's to be enjoyed
Yesterday (Sunday, of course), was hard. I didn't want to go to church.
Saturday I found myself getting uptight again because I knew Sunday was the next day. I even joked with my husband about us taking a sabbatical and staying home...but of course he didn't fall for it. He's the obedient one who goes to church every week no matter what.
I'm so tired of this weekly cycle.
I hadn't prepared for my calling all week like I normally do, almost as if subconsciously to give myself a reason to get out of going. My insides were all angry and stomping, like a 3-year-old throwing a tantrum, but in the end I knew I had to go. I had only hurt myself by not preparing. I couldn't bail on them again. It only made me feel worse when I did.
So I went.
And when I go with a blah attitude, that's what I get out of it.
The whole time I kept thinking how much I wanted to be at home and not there.
The speaker in sacrament meeting was monotone. She had a few moments, when she looked up from her paper, that she had something insightful to say, but other than that, I kept wondering when she would sit down.
Her husband was the same.
At one point during the meeting my husband reached over and squeezed my hand, smiled and scooted closer. He deserved a wife who would go to church with him, sit beside him, support him and stay true to the covenants we've made. It pained me to be there, but at least I was there with him, to sit beside him, even if sometimes I feel like I'm just playing a part.
Next, on to Sunday School. I wanted to sit in the car, but I made myself go sit through class. The whole time I half listened/half zoned out. I wasn't going to participate because I didn't really want to be there anyway. Why was I being such a baby?!
Next, on to relief society.
It was okay. I got through it. A girl who I'm trying to avoid kept looking over at me from a few seats down, trying to get my attention, so I just ignored her on purpose. She had called earlier in the week and said she wanted to talk to me. She's been trying to push a friendship but she's not my type, so I've tried to keep my distance. I didn't want to talk to her. Stop looking at me.
Our lesson was on Of Regrets and Resolutions, by Presiden Uchtdorf. One section focused on Living up to our Potential. I wondered what God thought my potential was? Would I fall short because of social anxiety? Was social anxiety stopping me from accomplishing great things? Yes. I'd say for sure it was.
One quote from Pres. Uchtdorf caught me, when he said we can't live up to our full potential "with a dragging-our-feet, staring-at-our-watch, complaining-as-we-go approach to discipleship."
Dang, that was so me right now. Hard truth. Especially today.
I finally made it through to the end of church and ran out to the car right after the prayer.
Get me the heck out of here.
It's finally over.
The girl who wanted to talk to me saw my husband and wondered where I'd disappeared? Bu bye.
When we got home, I fretted the rest of the day the home teachers would call or show up, since it was the last Sunday of the month. They never called, but it did ruin my peaceful Sunday afternoon worrying about it. Still two more days in the month. My worry isn't over yet.
Sigh.
Gordon B.Hinckley once said, “Life isn't just to be endured, it's to be enjoyed.”
Right now I feel like I'm just enduring it.
Whether it's church, work, family, friends, whatever it is that involves people, I worry about the next thing, get through it, and worry about the next thing. Dread and worry. Worry and dread. There's not much to be enjoyed about that.
I'll put this quote up on my bathroom mirror. And try harder to live it.
And maybe I'll begin to break the chains that hold me back from living my true potential.
One day at a time.
Saturday I found myself getting uptight again because I knew Sunday was the next day. I even joked with my husband about us taking a sabbatical and staying home...but of course he didn't fall for it. He's the obedient one who goes to church every week no matter what.
I'm so tired of this weekly cycle.
I hadn't prepared for my calling all week like I normally do, almost as if subconsciously to give myself a reason to get out of going. My insides were all angry and stomping, like a 3-year-old throwing a tantrum, but in the end I knew I had to go. I had only hurt myself by not preparing. I couldn't bail on them again. It only made me feel worse when I did.
So I went.
And when I go with a blah attitude, that's what I get out of it.
The whole time I kept thinking how much I wanted to be at home and not there.
The speaker in sacrament meeting was monotone. She had a few moments, when she looked up from her paper, that she had something insightful to say, but other than that, I kept wondering when she would sit down.
Her husband was the same.
At one point during the meeting my husband reached over and squeezed my hand, smiled and scooted closer. He deserved a wife who would go to church with him, sit beside him, support him and stay true to the covenants we've made. It pained me to be there, but at least I was there with him, to sit beside him, even if sometimes I feel like I'm just playing a part.
Next, on to Sunday School. I wanted to sit in the car, but I made myself go sit through class. The whole time I half listened/half zoned out. I wasn't going to participate because I didn't really want to be there anyway. Why was I being such a baby?!
Next, on to relief society.
It was okay. I got through it. A girl who I'm trying to avoid kept looking over at me from a few seats down, trying to get my attention, so I just ignored her on purpose. She had called earlier in the week and said she wanted to talk to me. She's been trying to push a friendship but she's not my type, so I've tried to keep my distance. I didn't want to talk to her. Stop looking at me.
Our lesson was on Of Regrets and Resolutions, by Presiden Uchtdorf. One section focused on Living up to our Potential. I wondered what God thought my potential was? Would I fall short because of social anxiety? Was social anxiety stopping me from accomplishing great things? Yes. I'd say for sure it was.
One quote from Pres. Uchtdorf caught me, when he said we can't live up to our full potential "with a dragging-our-feet, staring-at-our-watch, complaining-as-we-go approach to discipleship."
Dang, that was so me right now. Hard truth. Especially today.
I finally made it through to the end of church and ran out to the car right after the prayer.
Get me the heck out of here.
It's finally over.
The girl who wanted to talk to me saw my husband and wondered where I'd disappeared? Bu bye.
When we got home, I fretted the rest of the day the home teachers would call or show up, since it was the last Sunday of the month. They never called, but it did ruin my peaceful Sunday afternoon worrying about it. Still two more days in the month. My worry isn't over yet.
Sigh.
Gordon B.Hinckley once said, “Life isn't just to be endured, it's to be enjoyed.”
Right now I feel like I'm just enduring it.
Whether it's church, work, family, friends, whatever it is that involves people, I worry about the next thing, get through it, and worry about the next thing. Dread and worry. Worry and dread. There's not much to be enjoyed about that.
I'll put this quote up on my bathroom mirror. And try harder to live it.
And maybe I'll begin to break the chains that hold me back from living my true potential.
One day at a time.
Monday, April 15, 2013
When's my next Sunday off?
Yesterday I made it through another Sunday of church. Breathe in...and release.
Saturday I found myself getting anxious and wanting to eat everything in the house. I stopped and wondered what feelings I was eating? Why was I whirling around in a panic? And then I thought about what tomorrow was, Sunday, and my chest tightened. I tested my theory by playing a game in my head, "What if I didn't have to go to church tomorrow?" I immediately relaxed. Hypothesis proven.
I try not to get the Saturday grumps knowing Sunday is the next day, but I find it difficult. I can't help but sing my revised rendition of a well-known primary song, "Saturday is a special day, it's the day that we start dreading Sunday." I'm so bad.
Saturday is the first day off from a long week at work. It should be a day of freedom, relaxation, a day to prepare for the coming week, a day for at least a little fun. And I find that I stew it all away sometimes worrying about what the next day is. [Mental note: I've got to work on that. Saturday: live in the moment.] A woman commented in Relief Society yesterday that she "loves coming to church." I sat there and wondered what that felt like? I hadn't felt it in a very long time. Had I ever? Hmm.
Last week was spring break for us, which meant I had some time off from my job. Today is the first day back. My mom and I were talking about how easy it is to wish days and even weeks away, looking ahead to the next break instead of just enjoying each day. I had to laugh, because I knew I couldn't help but peek at the calendar to see when my next day off would be.
It reminded me of our "break from church" last week for General Conference. Sigh. I love those Sundays. But I found myself also wondering when the next break from church would be? Lets see, there are 2 stake conferences during the year and 2 general conferences...anything else? Please?! Eeeek! How many torturous Sunday's would there be until the next "break"? I began to panic and pushed it out of my mind. I had to hold on to my new way of thinking - to go to church for Them. Obedience doesn't have a timeline. It is a lifelong commitment of doing what is right.
Conference was not only a nice break from the anxieties of going to church, it was also uplifting. There were several talks that struck a chord with me. I recall one speaker in particular, who spoke of receiving power when we serve. It confirmed what I knew to be true, because it had happened to me. I plan on going back and listening to or reading the talks again so I can write down motivational quotes or thoughts.
I still felt really awkward at church. I walked, more like rushed, down the hall to avoid having conversations with people, I still avoided eye contact with certain people, I still used the bathroom more times than a girl should in a 2-hour period, but I survived.
I even had a mini panic attack while doing my calling in front of people. Panicked thoughts flooded my head, "I'm going to throw up! I'm going to pass out! I've got to run out of here and never come back!" but I pulled through somehow, sat down stunned, and melted into my chair. I thought I'd somehow managed to rise above those moments with my "diligent obedience", but unfortunately, they're still there. As I choose to continue to be obedient, no matter how difficult it is, I'm hoping the Lord will ease my anxieties.
I'm trying hard to be at peace with going to church every Sunday and I hope as I persevere, that one day I'll be able to say, as that woman in relief society did, "I love to going to church."
Okay, that may be a stretch, but a girl's gotta have a goal, right? J
Saturday I found myself getting anxious and wanting to eat everything in the house. I stopped and wondered what feelings I was eating? Why was I whirling around in a panic? And then I thought about what tomorrow was, Sunday, and my chest tightened. I tested my theory by playing a game in my head, "What if I didn't have to go to church tomorrow?" I immediately relaxed. Hypothesis proven.
I try not to get the Saturday grumps knowing Sunday is the next day, but I find it difficult. I can't help but sing my revised rendition of a well-known primary song, "Saturday is a special day, it's the day that we start dreading Sunday." I'm so bad.
Saturday is the first day off from a long week at work. It should be a day of freedom, relaxation, a day to prepare for the coming week, a day for at least a little fun. And I find that I stew it all away sometimes worrying about what the next day is. [Mental note: I've got to work on that. Saturday: live in the moment.] A woman commented in Relief Society yesterday that she "loves coming to church." I sat there and wondered what that felt like? I hadn't felt it in a very long time. Had I ever? Hmm.
Last week was spring break for us, which meant I had some time off from my job. Today is the first day back. My mom and I were talking about how easy it is to wish days and even weeks away, looking ahead to the next break instead of just enjoying each day. I had to laugh, because I knew I couldn't help but peek at the calendar to see when my next day off would be.
It reminded me of our "break from church" last week for General Conference. Sigh. I love those Sundays. But I found myself also wondering when the next break from church would be? Lets see, there are 2 stake conferences during the year and 2 general conferences...anything else? Please?! Eeeek! How many torturous Sunday's would there be until the next "break"? I began to panic and pushed it out of my mind. I had to hold on to my new way of thinking - to go to church for Them. Obedience doesn't have a timeline. It is a lifelong commitment of doing what is right.
Conference was not only a nice break from the anxieties of going to church, it was also uplifting. There were several talks that struck a chord with me. I recall one speaker in particular, who spoke of receiving power when we serve. It confirmed what I knew to be true, because it had happened to me. I plan on going back and listening to or reading the talks again so I can write down motivational quotes or thoughts.
I still felt really awkward at church. I walked, more like rushed, down the hall to avoid having conversations with people, I still avoided eye contact with certain people, I still used the bathroom more times than a girl should in a 2-hour period, but I survived.
I even had a mini panic attack while doing my calling in front of people. Panicked thoughts flooded my head, "I'm going to throw up! I'm going to pass out! I've got to run out of here and never come back!" but I pulled through somehow, sat down stunned, and melted into my chair. I thought I'd somehow managed to rise above those moments with my "diligent obedience", but unfortunately, they're still there. As I choose to continue to be obedient, no matter how difficult it is, I'm hoping the Lord will ease my anxieties.
I'm trying hard to be at peace with going to church every Sunday and I hope as I persevere, that one day I'll be able to say, as that woman in relief society did, "I love to going to church."
Okay, that may be a stretch, but a girl's gotta have a goal, right? J
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