When my dad was a bishop in our ward at church, couples would go to him with their concerns, and whatnot. Some couples would go in having a hard time understanding their spouses constant state of sadness, or depression.  It was often very harmful to their marriage; causing stress, frustration, anger.

My dad once told me how he approached this subject and issue:

He would ask the spouse who was concerned or frustrated, “If your spouse had a broken arm or a broken leg, would you want to help them get all the attention from a doctor, or whatever it took, to help mend what was broken?”
They would respond, saying of course they would get them the help they needed to fix the broken bone, or whatever it may be.

My father would then tell them, “Depression is like a broken mind.”

I heard that story years ago. I remember it, and think of it often.
I feel like that is such a perfect way to explain, even if just a little, how and what depression is.

I just want to start off by saying: I do not want this blog to be something that makes you all feel sad for me, or to be a major downer. Even with all the sad thoughts and feelings I may share on here, it is only to show another viewpoint.  Another person’s life.  Another story.

I have a very bad memory and often don’t remember stories or inside jokes from the past unless I am reminded of them.  Sometimes my friends will even say something funny, then they tell me it was me that said it in the past.

Anyway, ever since I can remember, Elementary School and up, I remember feeling sad. Sad about myself, the way I look, my body, etc.  I didn’t like my hair, my body, my clothes, nothing really. I felt jealous of the ‘popular’ girls in school who seemed to get all the attention from the boys.

Something I found interesting is that, as sad as I felt all that time, I asked my mom the other day if I seemed sad and would say I felt ugly when I was that age.  She said that I seemed like I was fine and even happy.   I don’t know or remember if I just hid it inside and kept it to myself or what.

Middle School was, by all means, no easier than elementary school.  I would dread going to school each day. I would go to the restroom several times throughout the day to check on how I looked, never feeling satisfied. I felt like people were always staring at me because I was so ugly.

I don’t remember when I started showing or telling my mom how sad I felt so much of the time.  I also don’t know when my mom started taking me into the doctor’s office because of the hard time I was having. I think it was probably 8th or 9th grade, but it may have even been later on.

I was prescribed and started taking medications for both Anxiety and Depression.
I remember getting stomach aches very often in elementary and middle school.  I now realize they were most likely because of my anxiety; my fear of speaking in front of the class, my fear of even going to school, etc.

Being diagnosed with Depression can be a hard thing to explain because, well, we all get sad now and then, right?  Cases are different for every individual, of course.

The general idea and definition of Major depressive disorder (MDD) on Wikipedia is:
“A mental disorder characterized by an all-encompassing low mood accompanied by low self-esteem and by loss of interest or pleasure in normally enjoyable activities.”
“Major depressive disorder is a disabling condition that adversely affects a person’s family, work or school life, sleeping and eating habits, and general health.”
“The diagnosis of major depressive disorder is based on the patient’s self-reported experiences, behavior reported by relatives and friends, and a mental status examination.”

For me, I was often majorly depressed because I felt like I wasn’t pretty enough, like I didn’t compare to the other girls I would see around me, like I had no chance of ever having a man who would love me and only me.  When I recognized how I was feeling, it seemed to only get worse.  I then felt mad at myself for feeling so selfish and being sad over something that shouldn’t matter.  It was, and is, like a vicious cycle in a sense.

More to come.

One day I will be able to play the piano and sing well at the same time.

So many beautiful songs that make me cry. I want to play and sing them.

Just a thought.

I have been thinking about this a lot recently:

Sometimes I want to believe that the LDS church is not true, because it sometimes seems almost ‘easier’ to not follow and live by its teachings.

But time and time again I have moments in my life that I feel the spirit so strong, there is absolutely no way I can deny the truth of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

I am so grateful to have been born and raised to parents who are so strong in the gospel.

I am constantly reminded that God is perfect.  Which is why everything about the church is perfect.
He knows what is best for us, and He loves us.

It is here to guide us through life, to give us hope, to help us be happy. 
The entire gospel is focused on the family unit, happiness, hope, mercy, joy throughout life, the opportunity of repenting and becoming clean again.

Every part, every aspect of this church is perfect. And it is meant for our happiness.

I love that.

When I hear about things like Elizabeth Smart’s wedding and see how completely happy and so in love she is, I feel so happy for her. She deserves that. She deserves that happiness so much.

When I have talked to my mom recently about her and the terrible things she endured at such a young age, I cry and cry.  I feel so much sadness, my heart just aches for her – that she has had to go through those things.

I have felt so sad for so much of my life, and it may sound stupid, but I feel like I have or wantthat same sort of connection with these incredible people in the world.  People that have overcome so much in their lives, people who are just… good.

I try to concentrate more on the happiness of this woman’s life. I know that Heavenly Father has been with her every step of the way as she has gone through her life — the good and the bad.

I see Elizabeth Smart as the very definition of a beautiful daughter of God. She does not let her past experiences define her.

I think she sees life as what it is — a beautiful and wonderful thing.

“There is no more beautiful sight

than a young woman who

glows with the light of the Spirit,

who is confident and courageous

because she is virtuous.”

— Elaine S. Dalton

“The Mask”

No one knows the true way I feel.
On the inside I’m a child;
shy and naive.

I’m self-conscious and sad,
unhappy with who I am.

Wanting to be different,
praying to change,
losing my self esteem with each hard hit.

But no one knows this.
I put on a happy face and pretend.


No one feels my pain.
No one.
But Him.

He knows just how I feel.
He felt it himself, for me.
He loves me unconditionally.

I am taking the mask off.

It’s real now. I am happy.

I have an amazing family. I am so incredibly blessed.
I love that I will be able to spend time and all eternity with them.

So, I have been wanting to start-up a blog for a while now; just to type up bits and pieces of my life, share it, or even just to vent. So here I am.

I don’t know how, where, or with what I should even start. I was thinking about posting some of my old writings.

I started writing what I call “poetry”, (because it’s easier to explain that way) in High School.  I remember being in seminary and feeling so alone and sad inside. I just wanted to hide. I remember feeling sad about the way I look; I felt ugly, felt like I didn’t compare to other girls. I would feel like a bad person, my mind was constantly racing.

Seminary was good for me in the sense that it let me have time to be alone in my mind, even though I was at school.  I think most of my seminary teachers understood something was going on and could see that I wasn’t super happy a lot of the time, so they kind of just let me be during class. I always really appreciated that.

I would sit and listen, while writing and drawing anything and everything. I would write any word that came to my mind, any thought or lyric from a song that seemed to speak to me. I once drew a giant tree like my sister Katy drew once.  The tree was kind of a like a little Shire; there was a little path circling up the tree, and little round doors and windows of tiny little homes all up and down the tree. Art is not my specialty, so that didn’t last long. Haha.

I have notebooks full of words, poems, thoughts, etc. all that I did during school. I think it was actually very therapeutic for me to be getting all those negative thoughts out of my head and down on paper.