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

Pressing forward for Them: the gift that keeps on giving

Yesterday was Easter - the most glorious of all Sundays.

The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and I was intent on going to church and doing my calling, no matter how difficult it was.

With my new perspective, going to church and fulfilling my calling despite my hardships as my gift to the Lord, I felt more at peace about going. I knew it wasn't about me anymore. It was about Them. It was a day to remember our Savior. It was a day to show Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father that I would not let social anxiety be greater than my love and gratitude for them. I wouldn't let my fears stop me from honoring them especially on this most special of all days, Easter.

I went to church with a mix of purpose and apprehension, because honestly, you never know what's going to happen. But I was there. And I wasn't going to let my social anxiety stop me from doing what I knew was right.

Yes, there were still long breaks in-between classes that made me want to choke. Time when chit-chat filled the room and I sat there staring into my purse like there was something important to find. But bathroom breaks and trips to the drinking fountain filled in some of the gaps and after a bit of squirming, class started.

During class we broke up into small groups. Without my new outlook, I don't know if I could have done it. And after class I had to talk to my visiting teachers. But the truth was, I could handle it. I was able to handle it all because I knew it wasn't about me. It was about showing my obedience, love and honor to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. If I had skipped out on any of it, I would be disrespecting them. And I wouldn't do that.

Pressing forward despite my social anxiety, is my gift to God and my Savior. There is power in this new perspective. I have already felt it.

Last week I was able to will myself to sit through a visit with our new Home Teachers. I wanted to skip out so badly, but knew I wouldn't be allowing these men to fulfill their callings if I didn't go. So with my new intent in mind, to press forward for Them, I went.

I'm still not ready to be a visiting teacher yet. I'm still not ready to have my visiting teachers come over. But I have a feeling, that with this new outlook I will be able to get there.

My Offering: turning social anxiety into a gift

Today is Monday. So you know what yesterday was.

As I sat in sacrament meeting yesterday, I wondered if going to church was as painful for anyone else as it was for me? I had to be there. I needed to be there. So I was. But making myself go was exactly the right term to use. It wasn't because I liked it. I'd had 3 weeks of avoidance (I had been sick for 2 of the 3 weeks and took an extra Sunday off when my husband was sick. Of course I did). Painful as it was, it was time to return.

I don't mind Sacrament Meeting. I'm safe there. If you time it just right, no one has to talk to you before it starts, and it's clear sailing through the meeting...until it gets to the end.  At that point I know what's next and have to take a deep breath before I go on to phase 2. Sunday School.

Sunday School isn't bad, as long as the teacher doesn't randomly call on people. I try to feel comfortable in Sunday School, but I'm really not. Especially the waiting period. Oh the agony! The period of time between each class is enough to send me running to the car. Get on with it already!  I mean who needs 10-15 minutes in-between meetings? Just get in and get it started already! I call it  D e a d  A i r. A bunch of wasted time filled with flighty classroom chatter and nonsense until the meeting finally starts. It's the most uncomfortable part of each class for me. It's like being at an singles activity without any friends, except there's no snack table to eat your feelings.

But I made it through Sunday School.
Now on to phase 3.
Hang on, we're almost outa here!

I have a calling in Relief Society where I have to be in front of people. I dread it every single week. It makes it that much harder to be at church every Sunday, knowing it's coming.

As I prepared for my calling this past week, I also thought about Easter. It's just a week away. Easter always brings to mind the greatest of all gifts that has been given to us from our Savior. He gave His life for each of us. How does one show gratitude for such a gift? How could it ever be repaid?

And then it hit me. I do have a gift I can give my Savior, to show Him how grateful I am for all that He has done for me. And maybe it's only a gift that He and I understand, but it is a sincere gift, truly from the heart of me.

Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ know how incredibly hard it is for me to go to church. They know how hard it is for me to do my calling. But as I continue to go to church anyway and continue to fulfill my calling anyway, despite my great difficulties, that can be my gift to the Lord. That can be My Offering. Even if it is the hardest thing I do every week, I will do it for them. Because I love them and owe them everything.

And as this was impressed upon my mind, it changed my perspective. It wasn't just about me anymore, it was about them. And I would be willing to do it for them, no matter how difficult it was for me.

No wonder I hate being social

Wow. What a week this has been!

I had a work training that I had been dreading for months. I knew it was coming and I knew I couldn't get out of it like I normally would, without the threat of losing my job.

I knew it had the potential of being hideously scary but I also knew I could be talking myself up about something that never would be. My co-workers would also be attending, and I feel comfortable with them, so I had to block out any thoughts of how awful it could be and just imagine it being fine.

It has been a while since I've made myself go to something that made me uncomfortable, besides every Sunday at church *wink!, so I blazed forward thinking maybe this time it won't be that bad.

From this week's experience, I learned 4 things:
1. Whoever invented get-to-know-you games needs to be slapped really hard.
2. Whoever thinks adults find it fun to play get-to-know-you-games, needs to be slapped really hard.
3. You can get through something if necessary, even if you think you're close to death.
4. Lets be real - if you can get out of it without negative consequences, GET OUT OF IT!

I'll give you one guess as to how the training went.
No, worse than that. ha!

The room was filled with about 60 people, seated in rows. Thank my lucky stars it wasn't a large circle, or they may have needed to start CPR.

My sensors were up, sizing the place up. It seemed relatively safe. It looked like we could sit in our seats and listen to the lecture. I even socialized with a few people to try and ease in to my surroundings. Hey, I'd actually made it to the training! Call me confident!

Flash forward to the moment it all went south.

The presenters thought it would be fun for us, as adult professionals, to play get-to-know-you-games. (See #2 above)
Need I say more?

Oh but why stop at just one? Or two? Or three? How about an hour of torturous get-to-know-you-games that involved charade-like behavior, hand-to-hand-contact, sharing feelings with strangers, all the while trying to act normal when you're throat is closing up, your face is turning red, and your mind is racing about how you know you can't get out of there but wonder how you'll survive as you feel like you're going to pass out and die?

Are. You. Kidding. Me?!
My eyes get wide and I get all tied up inside just thinking about it.
SLAP THEM!! HARD!!!

I only went to the bathroom once, you'll be proud to know, but it was timed just right.
"Now I'd like you to find a group of 5..."
Um, no. Bathroom time!

I would have stayed in my stall forever if I could, but then maybe someone would have thought I had diarrhea or something. Eeew. Yes, I said it.

So the rest of the awkwardly, uncomfortable, torturous time? I held my water bottle, squeezed the round lid til I made it oval, and ate tic tacs like it was my job. A minty distraction, of sorts. I had to be on my guard. I had no idea when they were going to pull another fast one on me. Another game? Another share-fest? Calling me out of the audience? I couldn't chance it. I was going to eat 100 tic tacs if that's what it took to last the rest of the meeting.

And I survived.
A little worse for wear, but I made it. I'll keep my job. I can check it off my list for at least 6 months.

I shrieked in the car on the way home, laughing and screaming about the ridiculousness of it all. It took me a few hours to come down from the ledge and process the psychotic mess I had just been through. Holy crap. That did not just happen.

So in summary, I cry out to my dear old enemy Social Situations:

"It's been a while, but I can't say it was good to see you again. I was reminded why I hate you. Why I prefer to stay away. Why I find any and every excuse not to see you. Why I feel so much safer staying at home. Sometimes I find the will to get through, only because I know I need to, or have to, but not because I enjoy it.

Other times you're at your worst, leaving me less than I was when I came. And although I eventually recover, the scars are lasting reminders. I won't be fooled. You can disguise yourself any way you'd like to, but I know you're still the same.

I will still avoid you as much as possible, but I know at some point I'll have to see you again, face-to-face. So until the a day I don't have to fear you anymore, I'll arm myself with water and tic tacs. Peace out.

Social Anxiety and Naseau: my new BFF

Just when you think feeling socially anxious is quite enough, thank you very much, another friend steps in. Nausea. How'd you get in? You weren't invited to the party!

It used to be that when I felt social anxiety grab me by the throat, I would choke and gasp and turn red and want to immediately exit the room. Quite normal after being grabbed by the throat, no? But somewhere down the line nausea stepped in and has moved in to stay a while.

When I find myself in situations that cause me to be socially anxious and want to run for the hills, I now feel sick to my stomach. Like I'm going to throw up. Literally. It's a horrific new addition to social anxiety's bag of tricks.

It hit its hardest a few months ago before I was to teach my Relief Society lesson. I had been able to somehow pull it together as a teacher before that time. The Lord had blessed me tremendously. And then one Sunday nausea hit. I'd been feeling off all during sacrament meeting. I couldn't tell if it was just me with the flu or me with "fake" nausea. It didn't matter in the end. I couldn't think straight, feeling sick to my stomach. I had to tell them I didn't feel well and go home.

I didn't end up having the flu, but did have a mix of health issues at the same time. It left me wondering if it was health-realted or simply nausea brought on by social anxiety?

The next time I was to teach? I felt sick to my stomach again. As I stood to introduce my lesson, a wave of warm prickly nausea swept over me. I literally thought I was going to have to run out of the room while politely blurting, "I'm sorry, will you excuse me for a minute?" But I stopped myself and grabbed my bottle of water, took some sips, and tried to normalize the contorted, nauseous expression on my face. After a few dozen sips and a few hard swallows, the nausea subsided just enough to allow me to finish teaching. Oh the horror.

Now I'm not a psychologist or anything, but unfortunately, I believe I have created a new cause-effect for myself. I call it Sick by Association.

I have now associated feeling nauseous with feeling socially anxious. The two now go together, but it's nothing like peanut butter and chocolate, I promise.

Now each time I feel the rabid butterflies of anxiety in my stomach, nausea also creeps in. And even as I try to tell myself, "You're not really sick. You don't have the flu. This is all in your head", the physical symptoms are already full-blown. They come on strong and are harder to brush away than thoughts are.

As if I didn't have enough to deal with! Now this? It makes being around people in social situations that much harder. "Hi, nice to meet you. Now excuse me while I go throw-up."

It has happened in many social situations since, and now I carry anti-nausea meds (which seem to help a little but also make me feel kind of funky). So far, knock on wood, the nausea has only been in my head. Let's hope it never gets to the floor, if you know what I mean.

Fear of Home Teachers: a confession?

I may or may not have played Angry Birds on the ipad hidden in the bedroom when the Home Teachers decided to stop by yesterday.

I'll leave you guessing on this one. But I'm pretty sure you know the answer. It was one of those days.

4 Tips for Easing Social Anxiety in Mormon Women

I had no idea it had been over a year since I posted. My how time flies! The same way Sunday shows up without warning every week. (wink!)

Hearing from one of you dear readers in the midst of a struggle, tugged at my heart strings. There are days when it hits us so hard. There are times we can't possibly see a way out. We watch hope slip away until it's so small it disappears.

It is at those times it helps, even a little, to know we're not alone. There are other people who feel just the way you do.

I would like to share 4 things I've learned over the course of this year that have helped me along the way. Has my social anxiety been cured? No. Drat! But have these things helped? Yes. And I hope they help you as well.

Accept Yourself, quirks and all

One thing that has helped me is to accept myself as I am, right where I am. Worrying about how I don't measure up to everyone else, or how I don't fit the description of what being a good Mormon is, does me no good. Focusing on accepting myself as I am, right where I am? That works. 

• I don't like going to parties or social events, and that's okay. 
• I don't go to enrichment, and that's okay.
• I attend church as much as I feel I can, and that's okay.
• I may turn down a calling or talk assignment if I'm not up for it, and that's okay.
• I may be quiet in a group, and that's okay.
• I'm not comfortable volunteering to feed the missionaries, and that's okay.

You get the picture. It's okay to be who we are, quirks and all. Even if we would like to improve or overcome certain things, we should accept ourselves as we are, right where we are. We wouldn't say to someone else, "It's not okay to be like that". So we shouldn't say it to ourselves. We are doing our best with what we have and what we know.

Your effort is good enough

Thank goodness Heavenly Father isn't like Dr. Phill who tells people just to, "get over it". The one person we always have on our side? Heavenly Father. He knows us individually. I've had my own experiences and have seen other people's experiences, that make that undeniable.

The Lord knows your struggles with social anxiety. He knows how hard it is for you to go to church. How much it pains your heart not to be able to go. Does that mean He gives you a free pass never to go back? No. (drat!) Just kidding. But your efforts, no matter how small do not go unnoticed by Him. He is the one person who truly knows your heart.

My new mantra is a quote from President Gordon B. Hinckley:

“Try a little harder to be a little better.”

(General Conference April 1995)

Did he say, "Get over it!!"?? No. He acknowledges our struggles and simply tells us to try a little harder. Do a little more than you did last time.

Little strides. That is doable for me.

The Lord knows our intentions. He knows we would be at church if we could. I've missed many Sundays because of my social anxiety. But I've also made myself go, even when it was difficult. Whatever you are able to do, whether you only attend 1 meeting or stay for all 3, the Lord appreciates and acknowledges your effort.

And remember, like attracts like. If I stay away for weeks, it's easier to stay away for another week, and another. If I go back one week, I'm more "able" to go back another week and another.

If you go three weeks in a row and have a set back? So be it! It will be harder to return the next Sunday, but what's important is that you're improving.

Small strides.

Priesthood Blessings

Telling my husband about my social anxiety opened a door for me. Even though he doesn't really understand how I feel, he can sympathize with me. It hurts him to see me unhappy or struggling.

There have been many times when my anxiety takes over and I don't think I can go to church or go through with a calling I've been given.

It's in those times when I need more power than I have alone, to overcome my anxious feelings. And I ask my husband for a priesthood blessing. It has always pulled me through. Always. A peace washes over me and I can repeat the words from the blessing in my mind and picture the Lord standing beside me.

If a Priesthood Blessing becomes a Saturday night ritual in order to give you power to get through Sunday? Let it be! The Lord doesn't limit His connection with us. We're the only ones who can do that.

Callings

I know you're going to think I'm crazy to say this, but having a calling helped push me "above" my anxiety. 

Are you sitting down? I was called to be a Relief Society teacher. (Gasp!) I know. Complete insanity. But you know what's more insane? After taking time to think it over, I decided I would accept it. I would do my best and if it was too much for me, I'd ask to be released.

Oh the agony! Oh the distress! The first time I taught I thought I was going to pass out. I would be the first teacher in the history of Relief Society to either collapse in a heap or run out of the room and never come back.

But I lived to tell. And not only that, but the spirit in the room when I taught that first lesson was incredible. I felt lifted up beyond myself and my own short-comings and shared what the Lord wanted those women to hear.

The Lord lifted me above my anxiety to bring to pass His work. It was difficult, but I've never felt such pure inspiration as I did while I prepared and taught the lessons. I felt my social anxiety dim. I felt more confident. I was able to go to church more often. I even felt its effects in my personal and work life. Not to say I didn't need countless Priethood blessings (they were my saving grace), and after a year I did ask to be released because it did become more than I could do, but it was an experience of trusting in the Lord, that I'll never forget.

Am I telling you to ask to be a teacher? Heck no!
What I am saying, is by accepting a calling to serve, *in whatever capacity you feel you can, it will not only give you a reason to be at church, but you will be deeply blessed, in more ways than you know.

I have been given a new calling. One that requires me to be in front of people, but is more doable than teaching. Yes, I have called in sick. Yes, I still have my set-backs. But I know the Lord will help me as I give my best effort, because He's proven that to me time and time again.


Hoping these bits of wisdom I've gained over the past year can help you as well.