Song Parody: Cleansing Gel

The story behind the songwriting process...

First, there was a friend who asked me, mid-conversation, if I was worried about coronavirus. My answer then remains honest now: "No".

Then there was a post on Facebook remembering a song parody that had been written during the swine flu pandemic.

Finally, there was a Catholic speaker who I love who shared about one of her favorite ways for finding joy in the midst of self-quarantine: Christmas music!

Thus the idea for writing a song called Cleansing Gel to the tune of Silver Bells was born in my mind.

Two weeks later, I finally had a quiet morning to myself (yesterday). I was sitting on the couch, sipping my morning tea and trying to find the motivation to open the book that I had on my lap when the lyrics just came. Still sitting on the couch, I started sorta singing, "Panic buying, people crying... there's no toilet paper... in the air there's a feeling.... of terror". At which point I stood up, smiling with excitement, and went to get paper and a pen while saying aloud, "Oh my gosh, this is getting real!". I finished the first verse and chorus, recorded and sent it to my family, then hopped in the shower hoping that that would help the next verse to come along.

Meanwhile, my family absolutely loved it. My dad said it could go viral (I was more excited that he liked it that much) and my Mom asked if they could share it. I explained that what I had shared with them was only the rough draft. Another verse was coming and it would likely be all done and ready to share later that day.

I was almost done drying my hair when the lyrics started flowing out of me for the second verse. "Jobs are closing, germs are spreading." I sat with that for a few minutes trying to think of what the next line would be. I looked at the lyrics for Silver Bells to learn from how it was written and find inspiration for Cleansing Gel. I wrote the line which mentions China while second-guessing myself that that was even where it all began. Then I had to bring the song back to the US and wrote that next line. Finally, I had to bring it all back to the main theme and smooth out that transition.

The song was done. I just wanted that final affirmation from my family before sharing it so I went ahead and recorded and uploaded it to YouTube since that was the simplest way to share the song as a whole with my family. They loved it and so I put it on Facebook.

Then I took a walk around my neighborhood to try, mostly in vain, to get Silver Bells out of my head. I was already excited about doing the process again and writing another song parody for these times but had no idea what topic or what melody. I have since answered both of those questions and am hoping that it won't take me another two weeks to create it!

On a somewhat related note, I'm beginning a 54 day rosary novena today for the end of the pandemic. Today begins 27 days of petition, followed by 27 days of thanksgiving to conclude on May 14 which is the feast day of St. Corona who is the patroness of plagues and epidemics. Everyone is more than welcome to join in prayer!

3 things I'm thankful for today: the ability to bring joy to others, rosary novenas, the joy of new life.

Meet My New Pet

I'd been considering getting a pet for weeks - almost since the new year - to help me manage anxiety. My first thought had been a betta fish but, really, they're only pretty. I wasn't excited about the prospect at all. Then I woke up one morning a couple of weeks ago, thought about the dwarf hamsters that my sister used to have and realized that I could get one for myself! A quick Google search later and I realized that this idea was very affordable and so I kept reading to refresh my memory on their care. I was getting increasingly excited!

Though it has been years, I've had dwarf hamsters before. During Elementary school, I had two albino dwarf hamsters: Blizzard and Sugar (one at a time, of course). I loved playing with them - as I did with all of our animals - and, looking back, I realized that they truly are very low maintenance.

So now, at this point in my life, I jumped at the possibility of getting another one. I knew it would be good for me and helpful for the anxiety and slight tendencies towards depression to have a little critter around for me to care for. After doing my research, I visited a small pet store during my work break to see about a cage. That pet store proved to be so small that choices were limited and animals were just as scarce. Those animals that were around, I very much enjoyed watching; I finally remembered how much joy animals give me and was a little sad to realize how long it's been since I really took the time to delight in them. Watching them now, I felt right at home.

I finished my work day and made a mental plan to go to a pet store near my home the following day (incidentally, on leap year). My Meyers-Briggs personality type is ANFP (Ambivert. It really should be official); knowing that I had a full morning of training for work on Saturday, I left the idea very much up in the air for myself as to whether or not I'd actually get one that weekend. As it happened, after I got home, it took me less than 10 minutes to turn around and get back in the car to go to the pet store hoping to bring home a dwarf hamster.

And so it came to be that, to celebrate Leap Year, I brought home an energetic goofball who I named Chryssie (short for Chrysanthemum).

The pet store where I got Chryssie was much bigger than the first one so I was even more in my happy place watching all the rodents sleeping soundly or scampering playfully about. The birds were very excited but I think that was largely because someone was buying one of them and an employee was trying to catch one with a net to bring it out. The parrots were so funny. I saw three of them; they already have names while they are in the store and the label on Sky's cage said that she will pose for you. Well, the silly thing did see me admiring her and, while she pretended to be eating with her back toward me, what she was really doing was turning her head -- apparently not actually interested in the little bit of food in her mouth -- around to look at me. Quite the charmer.

Chryssie was sound asleep when I first saw her (I had to look at the label to get a better idea of her coloring) so I found an employee to help me collect the things needed for her care and then woke her up from her peaceful slumber. 

Once home and after I had assembled the cage, I put her into her new home and watched her run and climb about as fast as Dash from The Incredibles for probably 10 minutes straight before she showed any signs of acclimation. It was fascinating to watch. Once she was settled, I went back to the pet store because I had somehow managed to walk out of there without her food. This hamster mama is off to a great start!

Hamsters are nocturnal but they do adapt to their owner's schedule. For Chryssie, that means she'll likely remain largely nocturnal since I work full-time. I'll handle her 1-2 times every day and she'll get some time in her round about exercise ball in the early mornings and usually in the evenings after work. I'm currently the most excited about letting her have a good dust bath. 

3 things I'm thankful for today: chicken noodle soup, The Gifts of Imperfection (Dr. Brené Brown), a "just because" phone call from my cousin over the weekend. 

3 Ways to Save Money Without Hardly Trying

I won't spell out my monthly income for you but, suffice it to say, I'm a preschool teacher. I'm also fairly visual (in addition to auditory and tactile) so I enjoy having pretty spaces. As it's now Winter, this is especially important to me in consideration of my SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder). Well, a month or two ago, I was feeling overwhelmed by the amount I'd been spending on moving expenses. I talked myself through it, spoke with my spiritual director, and also had a meeting with myself to form a game plan for future spending. I outlined for myself a better way of keeping track of my finances and who, at the end of the day, I want to financially support. 

I'm now feeling so much better, which is absolutely wonderful, and I thought that I would write this post to share why that is. Here are the 3 things that made January amazing for me:

1. Thrift Stores

I grew up on Thrift store clothing. Then college and the first few years of life as a young professional happened and I forgot all about it. I've just recently got back into it; happily, in my area, there are many and I now frequent them during my work breaks whether I buy anything or not. 

Recently, I spent a Sunday afternoon at three different thrift stores and, yes, I did purchase things at each location but the most expensive (by a longshot) thing I bought was a $25 oil painting. I also recently added two pretty sweaters to my wardrobe for a grand total of $10.20. One I was looking for, the other I just loved and my inability to resist proved to work in my favor: it was my first time at that particular thrift store and I was informed that I had hit the "lucky number" - I'd had no idea that there was a $10 minimum for use of a card and I didn't have any cash on me! 

It does take some effort and energy and it can be hit or miss, but I've always enjoyed my thrift store finds so much more than my other clothing and this, for me, is probably because money stresses me out so much and wearing thrift store clothing just reminds me, happily, that I spent $5 or a total of $30 for 6 articles of clothing. 

2. Buy Nothing

Have you heard of these groups on Facebook? They're amazing. The point is to buy nothing; post pictures of the things you are intending to give away and someone will likely comment to claim within a day or two. One must ask permission to PM/DM (private message/direct message) you for your address for pick up and it's your choice whether you want to leave the object or article out on your front porch (no introductions necessary) or actually meet the person upon their arrival (I've done it both ways). 

The process also works in reverse, of course. People post their own pictures and those interested comment away on them. Hopefully, you will obtain lots of great things -- for free! 

I have given away things that I hadn't been able to just donate to a thrift store for sentimental reasons and I've obtained several pretty articles of clothing, a pretty chip/salsa pottery dish, and replaced my dishes -- all for free! It's just the best and I've also enjoyed getting to know our neighborhood's surrounding streets a bit better in the process.

If interested, just search for "Buy Nothing [insert your city or town]" and you'll probably have to answer a few administrative questions. They're closed groups, which make them safer for membership and community building. I learned of them through my mom and my sister, which was a really great referral and, furthermore, I really believe that this is another aspect of one of my favorite things to say and observe: "This is social media done right!". 

3. Be a Member of a Grocery Store

I most consistently shop at the same two locations of Safeway, so I became a member and punch in my phone number every time at checkout. It's fantastic to get discounts for most everything I buy!

Then, 98% of the time, I fill my car with gasoline at the Safeway station across the parking lot from the store (conveniently, right down the street from work in the same direction as my commute). I punch in my phone number there, too, and consistently get up to $0.40 off per gallon. 

The other thing that I would like to mention about Thrifting and Buy Nothing-ing, is that groceries are now the most expensive items on my "To Buy" list. When I realized that recently, it added a happy skip to my step. 

Feel free to leave questions or comments on this post below. I'll respond to them in a timely fashion especially because these are 3 things that I'm currently very excited about and have served to alleviate a lot of anxiety and some depression for me in recent weeks.

Dec. 28, 2016: The Day My Life Began to Change for the Better

One year ago today, I published my first post on this blog as a small celebration of the second anniversary of my mental breakdown.

My breakdown happened while I was visiting my parents and my sister had just finished giving me a haircut. After I fainted twice consecutively, I was transported to the ER where I was eventually sent home with the paper that tells you to follow up with your PCP within 48 hours of an ER visit.

I dreaded my first anniversary. My therapist tried hard to help me think of it in a new light but a "spiritual awakening" just didn't sit well with me. I told her that I was so afraid of having a panic attack and fainting again. At last, the only thing that helped even just a little bit was recognizing the significant amount of therapy I'd been through in the meantime and realizing that I was in much better health now then I was before.

Last year, as my second anniversary approached, I was still not excited about it but neither did I dread it. I quietly prepared to start my blog on the anniversary and, the day before, I stopped on my way home from work and bought a piece of tiramisu that I would eat at work the following day to celebrate my anniversary.

And that worked. Just that small, delicious celebration that I treated myself to completely changed my perspective on my anniversary and made it a day that I realized truly is one to celebrate. Though the immediate aftereffects of the day was the hardest experience of my life thus far, I now can see that December 28, 2016 is the day that my life began to change for the better.

Today is 3 years since my mental breakdown - something that seemed impossible to me during the intensity of my suicidal ideations. I've now been at my current job for as long as I was at my "dream job" (read my letter for reference) and I can't believe how much happier I am and how happy I am - but I sure am loving it! I did a holiday show again this year. Last year I was stressed out as I learned the process of creating a show (but I still had an overall incredible time!); this year, I was relaxed as I trusted the process while giving my all at work and at the theater. Today, I'm enjoying brunch and a movie with several friends -- most of whom I didn't even know at the time of my breakdown!

I am alive, happy and embracing opportunities I never thought I could and I truly believe that I am better for them. Lord, find me grateful!

I'm About to Go on My First Airplane

Rare though it might be for someone in my age group and in this day and age to write this, I've never been in an airplane before. We drove everywhere when I was a child; I have 5 siblings and we really only traveled to visit grandparents or to go to our favorite family retreat center in Cape May, NJ. Most of my siblings went on their first airplane during college but I never took advantage of any World Youth Day event or Alternative Spring Break trip or other opportunity to fly. In less than two weeks, though, I'll be flying out to Colorado with my family to visit one of my sisters for a little family reunion of sorts. This is the "before" post. (I shared in this post that one of my goals with this blog is to write a post about the first time I go flying.)

Truth be told, I've always been a bit scared of airports and flying and, though it's not the only reason why, 9/11 sure didn't help. I've been anxious about me getting lost in airports or my luggage getting lost -- not to mention navigating the unfamiliar of wherever my destination is! Adventure doesn't thrill me... (though that leads me to wonder about my every day life because I don't absorb directions very quickly and the DMV area is crazy). Regardless, I'm a bit surprised that I'm actually excited about this new adventure and introduction into the world of flying.

Now, to be fair, I'll be traveling with my family -- including all three of my nephews (ages 5 1/2, 2 1/2, 1) -- so I expect to be plenty distracted. I'm looking forward to seeing what planet Earth looks like from way up high and I'd also like you, dear reader, to know that I literally have no idea how to pack for this trip (Colorado in October? I hear it's possible to experience all four seasons in one day!). But largely thanks to the tremendous amount of therapy I've already had, I find myself generally excited because I'm more myself now than I have been in years.

I still have anxiety, don't get me wrong, but -- in the last few years -- moving out of denial and into acceptance and gaining lots of tools through therapy of ways to live more abundantly is lifechanging.

One example of this growth is that I've moved 5 or 6 times in the last 8 years and each time -- within a month -- I've gotten into a car accident to varying degrees of damage. Well, I moved again only a few weeks ago and I was nervous about another car accident. As a firm believer in the power of prayer, I asked several friends to pray for me for this intention. That, coupled with the tools that I've gained through therapy, and I've learned in the last few weeks that I truly am stronger, braver and smarter than I know (thank you, Winnie-the-Pooh... or is that Christopher Robin?). There have been no car accidents and I'm no longer even worried about the possibility! The new confidence that this has given me is invaluable and I'm so grateful to have experienced it before getting on that plane. (I'd also like to note that the last car accident that I was in -- a mild fender bender -- happened before most of the therapy that I've experienced.)

So while I have very little knowledge of what to expect (I've been in an airport twice in my recollection), I'm not afraid of the possibility of heightened anxiety or an attack. Either could happen but I'm confident in my ability to utilize appropriate coping skills. I expect to be exhausted. Traveling with tired nephews might be exciting, too, and perhaps the weather will be a bit different there than in my still fairly mild Virginia-in-the-Fall weather but I am excited to show myself again that I am strong and brave and that my life is worth living and worth living abundantly.

The "after" (or recap) post will hopefully be here in November. Meanwhile, I'm usually active on Instagram (@sarahloutherese) should you be interested in pictures of beautiful Colorado.

A blissful October to you, dear friends!

15 Steps I Took When I Knew I Was Suicidal

Now that my letter has been published, you know more of my story and the journey that I’ve been on for most of my life. But there's only so much that can be included in a letter that’s meant to be no more than 1500 words, so I want to follow it up with this post to share what would have been much too long to share in the letter: the steps I took while being suicidal.

Although these are numbered, they are not necessarily numbered chronologically. I was in an emergency situation, had no guide book, and — out of fear — wouldn’t even tell my mom at first and didn’t know what to do (other than act on the ideations but, even then, that still, small voice inside me reminded me of my desire for Heaven and I knew that suicide was no guarantee that I would get there). Terrified and alone, the first thing I did was...

1. Told My Priest and my Doctor

This part of my story begins with a text message from my brother. Knowing I was struggling with depression and anxiety, he asked how I had been doing that day. “Other than thoughts of cutting my wrists, I’m great” was my reply (a dry sense of humor runs in the family). He immediately asked permission to call me and we spoke on the phone for the next two hours. I told him truthfully that I was not suicidal and, by the time we hung up, I was feeling pretty good.

But the very next morning, I awoke to a suicidal ideation which included a plan. Thankfully, I couldn’t act on that particular plan because I don’t own the instrument that I saw in the plan. It was, nonetheless, terrifying. My depression and anxiety triggered due to the ideation, I met with my priest after Mass that morning and told him of my ideation. He immediately prayed with and for me, which was helpful and I did relax a bit, but additional help and support was clearly necessary.

That night, my doctor called me and I told her that I was suicidal. She asked me to put my mom on the phone and told my mom that I would be spending the night at home and that, if my mom wouldn’t take me to the ER the next morning, she would.

2. Went to the ER

My Mom took me to the ER. I still hadn’t told her. I couldn’t. I was so scared. I told the nurse in triage. Then I saw my first psychiatrist who prescribed my first medication and also gave me the choice between hospitalization or Partial Hospitalization Program (PHP). I didn’t want hospitalization. By now my Mom knew and I had a surge of confidence in our ability to communicate so, if I had to do one or the other, it would be PHP. I was put on the waiting list. The waiting list was about a week long (which is forever for someone who was in my situation).

3. Told EVERYONE in My Family and Made Sure There was Always Someone With Me

Mom and I left the ER and went out for ice cream. I felt more confident since it seemed like we had an action plan. We now both knew that I was suicidal and I determined, hard as it would be, to call everyone in my immediate family (I have 5 siblings so this was a big commitment) and tell them that I was suicidal. I knew that if I had any chance whatsoever of survival, we all had to know. I needed that support.

As I began to communicate more openly with my family, gifts began to show up on our doorstep with my name on them. It was puzzling because I hadn't ordered anything. There was a fuzzy panda bear blanket from my brother and sister-in-law and a necklace with Philippians 4:13 on it from my sister. Though my love language is not gift giving or receiving, these little things from my further-away siblings went a long way in helping me to feel their love, support and encouragement.

Meanwhile, they also made sure that I was always with someone with whom I felt safe. The chances of attempting suicide are far less when with company so my local siblings, family members, and closest friends all jumped on board. I appreciated this very much, especially because my love language is quality time and so spending hours with people who I felt safe with was so good for me.

The occasion was my brother's college graduation. Remember that mental illness is a very hidden suffering: you would never know that I was depressed, anxious and suicidal; in fact, I hadn't eaten anything that day and was considering starvation. Please don't be afraid to ask your friends how they're doing. I mean, how they're *really* doing.

4. Switched Therapists

Within just a couple of days, I was admitted into a Partial Hospitalization Program but not the one whose waiting list I had been on. (My daily and nightly panic attacks were hospital level and very, very scary so my Mom and my Aunt did a lot of research while I was sleeping off some medication one afternoon and, when I woke up, they had my next step figured out.) At PHP, I met daily with a Psychiatrist and, due to schedules on their side, worked with two different therapists. My psychiatrist — who was absolutely wonderful to work with — recommended his practice for after my discharge not because I could continue working with him but because his colleagues have an excellent reputation. Longer story very short, I left my first therapist (who I mentioned in my letter. The reason is that we were not the right fit for each other) and switched to a group therapy at his practice. From there I stayed at that practice but eventually switched to individual therapy again to do CBT. That was an incredible experience and the story is in my letter.

5. Left My Job

The first 4 steps were chronologically what happened. Here, I’m transitioning out of the story and into the facts. Prior to my breakdown (please read my letter if you have not yet already), I could not admit that I was miserable. I wanted so much to love my job but I just didn’t. Since I was suicidal, my psychiatrist at PHP encouraged me to get a new job. Apparently, that’s the advice he gives to all patients who are suicidal and that makes sense. I did leave my job and accepted unemployment. I will forever be immensely grateful to my parents for welcoming me back home and caring for me.

6. Texted the Suicide Hotline Number

Once I learned of it a few months in, I began texting the National Suicide Hotline Number. I texted that number so many times that they recorded my name/number and would greet me by name when I texted (that was only creepy the first time). Was it helpful? Kinda... although I already knew the coping skills and breathing exercises that they recommended from my time in PHP. For me, it really was just a reason for me to not think (or not think entirely alone) about my ideations and severe anxiety.

7. Had a Physical List of People to Contact When I Needed To and was as Transparent as Possible

There’s nothing worse that being alone when you’re triggered. The isolation means that the lies swimming in your mind are suddenly on steroids, the battle feels too big and overwhelming and giving up seems the easiest way. At PHP, I created a physical list of people to contact in these moments and I would text all of them and engage with anyone who responded. In those moments, it’s literally ANYTHING you can do that keeps you from acting on the ideations. 

Further, I told my family and closest friends what I saw in my ideations. Subsequently, my parents hid the kitchen knives. To this day, I have no idea where they kept them for those several months. They only brought them out for cooking, then quickly cleaned them and put them right back in their hiding place.

8. Got a Temporary (“transition”) Job

I was unemployed and dreading employment, having lost trust in employers. I’m a preschool teacher and, as it turns out, the Preschool Director at our Church has a great relationship with our family. She offered me a very part time, temporary job and I reluctantly accepted it. It was a great choice and, within only two weeks of that job ending, I landed my current job where I am, to this day, very happy.

9. Using a Weighted Blanket

Simultaneously to getting a temporary job, we learned about weighted blankets and did our research about them. They are helpful for people who suffer from nightmares, anxiety, depression, sleeping disorders, etc. My mom bought me one and that coupled with a medication change and a new job seemed to work its magic on me and I finally began to be consistently better and better.

10. Met with My Priest on an As-Needed Basis

My priest has known me for half my life and, if my Mom texted him to ask for his soonest availability because I needed to talk to him, he was ready. I am painfully aware of how great a gift this is but I do encourage you to talk to a priest after Mass about your struggles if any of this resonates with you.

11. Prioritized Daily Mass, Listened, Prayed and Trusted

I prioritized daily Mass and that was the majority of my prayer life outside of my ultimate intention to offer up all of my suffering. There was no consolation at Mass except for the head-knowledge of Jesus’ True Presence in the Eucharist. At this point, it was more conviction than anything else. I was in intense physical pain, the anxiety was so great, and the only consolation the Eucharist gave me was the strength to keep fighting for another day. I received the Sacrament of Anointing several times throughout these 10 months of suffering and it’s really the graces of the Sacraments that kept me going.

People around me were praying for me and I leaned on their prayers. It was hard to trust God, hard to trust their prayers and hopes for me but, simultaneously, I literally had nothing better to do. I didn’t know when or if my suffering would end. They told me it would but I didn’t know if I could believe them. The only person who I came close to believing told me, with tears streaming down her face, that she had heard God whisper in her heart, “Soon, but not yet.” Within three months, I entered remission.

12. Wrote Letters

Several friends asked what they could do to help. There wasn’t much, honestly, because my group of trusted people was very small. I would always ask for their prayers and I would sometimes ask if they enjoyed letter writing. To my delight, I was able to exchange letters with several people for a few months. It’s also the little joys that kept me going.

13. Avoided Alcohol

Countless times while in PHP, I was asked when my last drink was. I’d self-medicated on alcohol in the past but, after my mental breakdown, I began to take my recovery seriously. I knew that if I wanted any chance of survival, alcohol wouldn’t be part of my journey. So my last drink before my breakdown was Christmas day and it would be months before I had another one. There was so much trial and error with different medications that I was grateful that alcohol had no influence on any of it.

14. Never Attempted Anything

As real as the ideations seemed, as intense as the pain was, as lonely as I felt, and as much as I wanted out (believing myself to be a burden to the world), I never attempted anything.  It seemed like I had every plan in the book and sometimes circumstances would reveal new plans. It was terrifying. And it’s only by the grace of God that any of this is true.

This is the baby who I so desperately wanted to meet, one of the forefront reasons in my mind for not acting on the ideations in those moments. Holding him for the first time was the moment that I chose life once and for all because I wanted to get to know him.

He is all joy and I've never once regretted that choice. Also, that necklace is the one from my sister with Philippians 4:13 on it.

15. Celebrated the Milestones

The therapist with whom I worked the longest (a year) and I celebrated together every milestone along my path to recovery. The first time that I talked myself out of a panic attack, we celebrated the following week with ice cream. It truly doesn’t take much to celebrate and it goes a long way for the client's recovery and for the relationship between therapist and client which, I believe, is what's more important: a therapist can give you the tools that you need but a good relationship with your therapist is really what makes all the difference.

My Family, Aug 2019

It's a hard journey but it's a worth-it journey. Life is worth living. Keep your heart up!

____________________________________________________________________________

Thank you so much for your positive response to my letter, for sharing it on your own social media accounts and to everyone who took the time to message me. Suicide is the second leading cause of death for people in my age group (which is absolutely gut-wrenching and heartbreaking); I wrote my letter (and this post!) to be shared in hopes of helping others catch a glimpse of hope in the midst of their struggles. It's why I have this blog, why I've chosen to share my story and it's given greater meaning to all the suffering that I endured.

So thank you for your responses, your encouragement, and your prayers for me and for everyone who has read and will read my letter. I truly believe that prayer makes a difference!

"Would You Rather...?"

I recently started a new job at my job and, with it, comes all the expected and not expected changes and transitions of going from a 30 to a 40 hour work week. I love it, though, and I'm so grateful that God knows my heart better than I do because this happened just in time for me to spend most of my day with what is so far one of the sweetest classes I've ever worked with in my 8 years of teaching.

As I said, it's been a shift in the schedule -- 40 hours is pretty different from 30 -- and I was nervous about building up the stamina but confident that I could do it. So, for the last couple of weeks, I've been playing little games of "Would You Rather?" with myself. It's all about cause and effect and my goal is to help myself make the better choice in the moment so as to live life more abundantly... and have less frustration with myself to suffer over the following 12-24 hours. 

Picture this: it's 9:30 at night, I know that I'm not a night owl and that I do best on about 8 hours of sleep. Sleep does not come easily for me so, if I lay down now, I'll hopefully succumb in about 45 minutes. But it'd be so easy to turn on Netflix for a little while. (As cheesy of an example as that sounds, it's an almost nightly choice for me.) Sarah, I ask myself, Would you rather watch Netflix now and possibly still be awake at 11 or 12 or take your meds, say Night Prayer, turn on your Nature Sounds to help you relax, and get a good night's sleep so that you are more ready for another day with your students tomorrow? 

Netflix loses every time.

Now picture this: I had plans to go see a movie over Labor Day weekend when a friend texted me on Friday night and asked if I'd like to go to a particular annual Labor Day weekend festival with her on Saturday at the exact time I was planning to see the movie. I almost texted her back immediately saying 'no'! Hold on, I said to myself, Sarah, would you rather go see a movie by yourself that is showing at other times or get together with your friend to go to this festival that you've heard about for years but have never gone to because you've never had a friend to go with?

Can I just say that it's amazing how obvious the right answer is when you take a moment to consider the bigger picture and ask yourself to answer the question honestly? We went to the festival and we both had an incredible time!

The first week of the new school year was long but so good because I did my best to make sure that I was well-rested every day, intentionally cultivated a spirit of gratitude. And this little game of "Would You Rather?" really did help me make the better decisions -- from not hitting the snooze button 5 days in a row to being more disciplined about my bedtime routines. This year was my 8th time starting a new school year in the role of a teacher and I dare to say it was the best first week of school yet! 

Lord, find me grateful!

_____________________________________________________________

Hey friends! Thanks for being here and reading along with my pursuit of an abundant life (cf John 10:10)! I’m excited to share that my story with mental illness, written in the form of a letter for the blog The Catholic Woman and their series Letters to Women, will be published there on September 25. Please join me in praying for the letter and for everyone who will read it. 

When it is published, I need your help! I hope that this letter reaches many hearts but I can’t do that by myself. Please share my letter when it is published. This story isn’t so much about mental illness as it is about God’s love and mercy and how I came to find my home in his heart.

Also: I've recently made some changes behind the scenes on my blog. Consequently, it's possible that those of you who had subscribed to my blog via email will have to subscribe again if you would like to continue receiving my posts in your inbox. I did not foresee this when I made the changes and I apologize for the inconvenience.

As always, I’m also over on Instagram and I enjoy connecting with you there! @sarahloutherese

God bless, and keep your heart up!

Investing in a Passion

Last year, I did a show. I portrayed a poor musician in a community theater production of A Christmas Carol that was set in St. Louis in the 1930s. I played fiddle.

Intending to be honest with the director, I told her that I was terrified even though, upon request, I had no lines to memorize. I do love my instrument but I hadn’t played consistently in a while. I love the arts but I hadn’t been on stage in 16 years and my anxiety had been under control for almost a year but I still had my doubts. The director told me that she understood and literally promised me that I would fall in love with the process and come away from the experience having completely enjoyed myself. I think that’s what she would tell just about anyone but, I will say, she’s known me for 20 years. I chose to trust her.

Before the show opened, it had been about 6 weeks of daily rehearsals and feeling simultaneously overwhelmed and excited by it all when I came across this quote while looking at jewelry on Amazon. The necklace that I never bought had this etched on it: “To play a wrong note is insignificant. To play without passion is inexcusable.” (-Beethoven) It was at the core of what the more experienced musicians around me were telling me but it was hard for me to believe (further, it was not what I expected any of them to say). At this point, though, I began to trust it — partially because Beethoven knows what he’s talking about. I didn’t want the necklace but I still made the quote look cute in my violin case.

The show was amazing. Frankly, I can’t believe how much I loved it and I’m so grateful. Afterwards, while watching a recording of the show, I finally saw what everyone had been telling me all along. All those notes that I missed on stage and was so worried about? I still noticed but I finally saw that it really didn’t matter. The violin merely faded for a couple of beats then came back strong (but that’s really only my opinion as someone with a trained ear. The audience most likely didn’t notice anything remotely amiss). What I saw was that none of the perfectionism in me that was rallying my anxiety was worth it. Perhaps my skill level does not equate to concert violinist — as I once dreamed it would — but I’m realizing how grateful I am for that.

For the first 3 years after graduating college, I was basically a workaholic. It wasn’t by choice and the extreme lack of a balanced lifestyle nearly killed me. But due to exhaustion and a somewhat shy, introverted nature, I never did anything other than work and isolate myself when not at work. While recovering from my mental breakdown and in the midst of therapy, I learned a lot about the importance of self-care. I began thinking of a balanced lifestyle from the perspective of self-care and even began considering going to work for a healthy amount of time at a time as self-care. When not at work, I knew what wasn’t healthy for me and so, steadily over the last couple of years, I’ve been learning that it’s good to have fun and investing in something I’m passionate about is a good compass for having fun.

I’m still figuring things out but my first big priority did become investing in something that I’m passionate about. Violin isn’t my only instrument — it’s not even my first instrument! — but it is the instrument that I’m most passionate about. While preparing for the show, I found out that a friend’s husband teaches violin and I was able to meet with him before getting into the thick of rehearsals to help me get back into practice. 

There are purchases — big and little — that I regret; I’ve never once regretted what’s ultimately learning more about violin. Violin has always been a great joy for my heart and I love sharing that joy when I have the opportunity to. Once upon a time, I dreamed of seeing my name in lights. Now, I don’t care whether or not that ever happens. What’s important to me is that I love playing and it’s a great joy to do so. I don’t ever want to forget it.

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Hey friends! Thanks for being here and reading along with my pursuit of an abundant life (cf John 10:10)! I’m excited to share that my story with mental illness, written in the form of a letter for the blog The Catholic Woman and their series Letters to Women, will be published there on September 25. Please join me in praying for the letter and for everyone who will read it. When it is published, I need your help! I hope that this letter reaches many hearts but I can’t do that by myself. Please share my letter when it is published. Sometimes what people won’t hear from their family members they will from someone else. This story isn’t so much about mental illness as it is about God’s love and mercy and how I came to find my home in his heart.

As always, I’m also over on Instagram and I enjoy connecting with you there! @sarahloutherese.

God bless, and keep your heart up!

The Princess Bride and Your Prayer Life

“As you know, the concept of the suction pump is centuries old. And really, that’s all this is, except that instead of sucking water, I’m sucking life. I’ve just sucked one year of your life away.”

This is quite the bitter pill to take. Hardly uplifting, affirming, or encouraging - much less comforting. If you’ve seen The Princess Bride then you know the scene well: Westley is in the pit of despair after surviving the Fire Swamp with his beloved Buttercup and Count Rugen is testing his new invention. While Westley insists on his own invincibility, the dwarf’s forewarning of the machine’s terror and power seems to have come true as Westley’s body lies lifeless on the table. I watched The Princess Bride for the first time during my childhood while on a family retreat in New Jersey - I would guess that I was about 10 years old. Of course I’ve seen it many times since then but only recently did I notice a layer of deeper meaning to this particular scene and so I began pondering what The Princess Bride can teach me about prayer.

I love prayer. My relationship with God has been through many different seasons over the course of my young life and that’s as it should be; nonetheless, I’ve always felt like a failure when I didn’t pray a daily rosary, make it to daily Mass, read that spiritual text that I said I would, or finish a scripture study in the allotted timeframe. Simultaneously, as a perfectionist I would pray that rosary, go to daily Mass, read that text, and finish that scripture study because I wanted a perfect prayer life. My inclination towards perfectionism always rallies my anxiety and makes me think that I absolutely have to check these things as complete else God might love me less for not maintaining the appearance of an active prayer life. But that is a lie and I now realize that just as I am not defined by my clothing, my makeup (or lack thereof), or my car, neither am I defined by my prayer life.

Once I asked my Confessor if there was some way I could possibly be better at prayer. His response? “You just gotta do it.” I didn’t like his answer because I’ve always wanted a switch to go off and then I magically have this perfect, Saintly, amazing prayer life. To my surprise, I don’t want that anymore because now I realize how severely lacking of an authentic relationship with God that would actually be. Now I see more clearly the beauty of embracing the struggle, starting small and recognizing that God’s invitation is not to fall back into the comfort of my chair when I trip up but to fall into His embrace so that, like the Apostle John, I can lean my head against his chest and rest in his love. (cf. John 13:23-25)

What this scene from The Princess Bride is teaching me is that my prayer life should never make me feel bad. God is love (cf. 1 John 4:7-8) and authentic love is life-giving not life-sucking. Although it still and probably always will take intentionality to think of my prayer life as a relationship rather than a checklist (because relationships by nature take a lot of intentionality), I am learning and growing. I attend daily Mass and Adoration regularly because I truly believe in the Real Presence in the Eucharist. I pray the rosary because the prayer is genius, comes straight from Heaven, and is literally a bible study on a string. Plus, when I’m feeling anxious, the rosary doesn’t actually overwhelm me: its rhythm is soothing and its lyric is beautiful, and there’s literally no pressure or particular reason why I have to finish it in one sitting. Take Up and Read bible studies are my favorite thing and I’ll continue using them because it’s a great way to read the Bible with Lectio Divina and their work has borne great fruit in my life. God won’t love me less if I fail to finish these devotions; the Lord is faithful and it’s relationship over perfectionism that truly matters. 

Some days coming before the Lord to attend Mass or pray a rosary literally feel like I am climbing the cliffs of insanity. But what keeps me going is the fight for True Love that is so, so worth every peril and affliction along the way (the lives of the Saints are testimony to this truth). Anxiety can literally feel like I am fighting skilled swordsmen, up against giants, or trying to outsmart the anxiety itself; the truth is that the light shines through the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it. (cf. John 1:5) The Lord is constant and faithful and it’s to be in an authentic relationship with Him that I desire most of all. And on that note, The Princess Bride also teaches beautifully the correct thing to say to Jesus when I choose to submit myself to his will, letting God be God: “As you wish!”

What Do Ellen DeGeneres and I Have in Common?

(Source)

Have you seen Ellen’s Netflix special Relatable? Yep, I watched it. Yep, I enjoyed it. But I still don’t miss watching her show every afternoon.

Now, it probably doesn’t take much guessing to figure out that I don’t agree with a lot of what Ellen stands for but then I’m confident that she would say the same of me. However, as I watched Relatable, it was not her references to the many things that I don’t agree with that stood out to me. She got the audience laughing as she made fun of this or that. They cheered as she offered her support of those who are vegan and as she shared about her trip to Rwanda to see the starting reality of the 60th birthday present from Portia. I really don’t think that every person in that audience identifies as gay. I’ll bet that their general political opinions are also wide and varied and I’m pretty sure it’s possible to say “I love Ellen and I love Trump” in the same sentence. (I just did.) What stood out to me as I watched her stand-up special was her creativity and her love for her fans. If you are doing something great with your life and you can’t say that you love and are grateful for the people who are giving you your success, then I’d call that a failure.

Ellen wrote her presentation (perhaps with a little help from screenplay writers): an entire hour about how relatable her life still is, despite her fame. She added a bunch of hilarity to it all - how she kept a straight face while the audience rolled with laughter I have no idea. (Acting is not my forte.) But the way she told her story of how she went from living in a flea-infested basement apartment to the fame that she now enjoys was creative enough in and of itself, let alone the creativity she used when she was actually living it.

That girl is creative and passionate about what she does and is as generous as they come.

I’ve seen many a YouTube video from her shows but until last year I had never seen a show from start to finish. Just from her YouTube videos I became a fan of Jeannie, discovered the game 5 Second Rule (and gave it as Christmas presents to every household in my family), and downloaded the app Heads Up!. Last year when I was unemployed and nearing the end of my tornado-of-an-experience with mental illness, watching her show gave me something to laugh at for an hour every afternoon (quite the feat when you’re talking major depression and a severe anxiety disorder). Then a new job came with a new schedule and more than a year later I just remembered that I watched her show every day for a few weeks last year.

Evidently, I have been alive and kicking and really enjoying and loving life. My knack for creativity found a home in my preschool classroom and because of that I had almost convinced myself that I didn’t really need outlets for creative writing or even creating music. But my friend who directed A Christmas Carol asked me to be a part of the show and I eventually said “Yes” (actually, I said “I’ll try to stay” because, well, anxiety), then the musicians “clicked” really well and had so much fun together creating music. Once that was over I finally decided to just go for it and create a new blog to explore this idea of writing about anxiety and, before Christmas Day arrived, I already had half a dozen drafts behind the scenes that were done and ready to go. It seemed creativity was suddenly bursting at the seams of my brain and I had finally allowed myself the opportunity of these creative outlets.

So what do Ellen and I have in common? Apparently, a lot more than I thought.