Therapy Works

 The alternative title of this post is, "I've Never Been So Afraid of Relapse"; that I didn't relapse in the last week is why therapy works!

When we had our first COVID case at work on Wednesday last week, my anxiety immediately went through the roof. Not a panic attack, just incredibly stressed. For the rest of the work day, I hung on to even the tiniest piece of humor from anyone around me and tried my hardest to laugh at it all but by the time I was actually in the classroom, I knew I needed some serious R&R -- and fast! Thank goodness the kids already know and love me and know that I love them because, to me, it felt like the only nice thing I did for them that day was let them watch a movie.

I was so stressed that I barely remember the details of the day. Before I left home, I sprayed disinfectant over the entire room (including lightly on the floor) and, once home, my throat soar from inhaling so much disinfectant, I jumped in the shower just to soak for a couple of minutes and wash my body. That felt good and I relaxed a bit for a little while but it didn't last. By the time I went to bed, I was back to being incredibly stressed. I made sure to bless myself with holy water and St. Joseph Oil. I had taken my daily medication (the one I take for anxiety and melatonin) and was lying in bed listening to Night Prayer (hello, beautiful Hallow app! I'm so grateful for you), hopeful that I would actually be able to fall asleep without the help of emergency meds. As I lay there, tense and stressed, I did some muscle relaxant exercises (which helped!) and prayed earnestly to St. Joseph, asking him to protect me from this anxiety and to help me to calm this body and mind down enough to sleep and be well rested come morning.

That helped, too, and I did doze off a couple of times. But when I realized that it was after 10pm, I knew that it was time to take a small dose (0.5mg) of my emergency medication to get some real sleep. Since I'm naturally a morning person and, of course, always have somewhere to be during the week because I'm employed, I am up and at 'em at 5:30am, like it or not. After I took my medication, I slept and woke up feeling better first thing in the morning.

My stress level was less but still there for the remainder of the week. When my mom texted me an irrelevant question on Thursday night, I responded, "I'm just trying to get to the weekend...". (Now it is the weekend and all I can do is write about it to process it all.) 

In the midst of all of this, I have decided that it is time to return to therapy. Those who have read my letter will know that I've had great success with therapy in the past. What is less obvious is that I've always known that I'm not done with therapy. In the interest of learning to be gentler with myself, I'll also share that it's incredible that I'm only now suffering from more anxiety and needing a new therapist again -- 10 months after COVID came to Virginia! I have truly done incredibly well even to the point of trying to come off my medication over the Summer (which didn't work but that is totally ok). I'm so grateful that I've done so well; it's enabled me to remind myself of the following in the last few weeks as I've struggled through higher anxiety levels:

I will be ok. It doesn't feel good right now but that's ok. I will be ok.

 Those who struggle with anxiety can probably relate to this: I want to blame my heightened anxiety levels on anything else... anything else that possibly makes sense. Not people; more like circumstances. For instance, we're in the dead of winter now. February is my least favorite month and it looms around the corner. I want to blame the anxiety on winter blues (though I haven't been depressed), the fact that it's cold, and I want to tell myself that everything will be right again if I can just hang on until April/May. Or at least get me to March... then joy is right around the corner again. 

But the truth is, I can be ok and will be ok right here, right now. And I'm doing the right, brave and strong thing now by reaching out and getting a new therapist to work with. I'm excited, in fact, to get back to therapy as I've had such a great experience with it in the past. I might do more CBT, I might try a different model of therapy. It could possibly be painful (growing pains usually are) but that kind of pain is safe and healthy and holy -- and whole-y! 

Please keep me in your prayers and be assured that, as I write and find more things to write about, you remain in my heart and in my prayers as well.

Keep your heart up!

I'm no longer able to allow comments on individual posts but you are welcome to email me your thoughts. I look forward to hearing from you!

SARAHFIDDL3R@GMAIL.COM

Pandemic Piano: Becoming Quite Good at Playing Quite Simply

This past week has been incredibly stressful since we've had to get through our first COVID case at work. And, yes, while it is remarkable that we've been open since August 2020 and this is our very first case, it's no less stressful. We've learned a lot in the last few days - so many of the "we'll cross that bridge when we get there" questions of the last 6 months have been answered this week - but I also get the feeling that everyone does and doesn't want to know right now what's going to happen over the next 10 days regarding whether or not there'll be a spread or if we've successfully kept the case contained (so far, everything points to the latter). I'm hopeful that it'll blow over smoothly and we can soon resume as usual, incredibly thankful that all of the extra measures we've implemented due to COVID seem to be working.

And now that I have a moment's rest, I'd love to share about my newest toy - the timing of which could not have been better with the stress that I experienced this week with the COVID case. 

There's no hiding my passion for music and, while I know that I'm primarily a violinist, it brings me great joy to be able to play several other instruments also. High on that list for me is learning piano.

The possibility of playing piano began in high school when my violin teacher asked me if I'd like to also learn piano. Her proposal was back-to-back music lessons: 30 minutes with violin, then 30 minutes with piano. I couldn't say no! Sadly, our hour-long music lessons were discontinued before I got very far at all but the seed of interest had, nonetheless, been planted.

My parents have a piano and, fast forwarding to life as I currently know it, so do my housemates. The problem was that I have the downstairs apartment in our home and I know that if I'm to make any progress on piano, then I need to spend 20-30 of even the most frustrating, I-feel-like-I'm-not-getting-anywhere minutes every day playing a little bit; I just don't know my housemate's schedule well enough with how it compares to mine to be able to go upstairs every evening to accomplish my goal. 

I then realized that I ought to have a keyboard in my own space that I can play comfortably and confidently whenever the heck I want to. So I did some research and talked with some of my music friends for their advice. One of them was so excited by my interest and enthusiasm that she literally gifted me the money that she otherwise would have spent on bands and events were it not for a pandemic. She also had an extra piano bench that she gave me... thereby paying for 50% of what I ended up spending to buy the keyboard that I wanted.

Now I have a beautiful Yamaha keyboard and a beginner's music book of The Sound of Music; I'm hoping, possibly with some coaching from my housemate who plays far better than I probably ever will, to become quite good at playing quite simply. I put the keyboard against a wall in my bedroom and my goal is to use it for 20-30 minutes every day as a relaxant either after work/before dinner or before bed... or both! The chances of this happening are actually fairly great: it's amazing how powerful instrument cases (guitars, violins, etc.) are in dissuading one from playing. But with a keyboard, all I have to do is press the power button and it's ready to roll! I can even press another button that says "demo playing" if I want to hear the keyboard played to me first for a little more inspiration and peace before I start practicing. How cool is that!?

As a starting point, my monthly goal will be to become very good at playing one new song every month. If more, great! But should that be the case, it'll be a fruit of the joy of playing.

Oh, and I am one of those musicians who name my instruments. The keyboard is Annie after St. Anne and after my friend who helped me purchase the right keyboard for me. Her name is not Annie but is similar to it. 

Ss Anne and Cecilia, and all Saints and Angels in Heaven,

pray for us!

I am no longer able to allow comments on individual posts but feel free to email your thoughts. I look forward to hearing from you! Keep your heart up!

SARAHFIDDL3R@GMAIL.COM

Returning to Music Ministry with St. Therese's Intercession

St. Therese of Lisieux's intercession is frequently quite obvious in my life. If she's adopted you as a spiritual brother or sister, then I'm sure you know quite well what I mean: it's just the way that this girl works. So, as I explored the possibility of returning to music ministry at a couple of different local parishes with violin in hand, it came as no surprise to me that, when the stars aligned, I realized that the first time that I would be playing at Mass would, in fact, be the anniversary of St. Therese's birthday. It felt "right" even before the date was confirmed; this was really just the cherry on top!

Let me back up, though. 

Perhaps you've been reading along for the life of this blog and you know that I've done a couple of shows in the last few years as musician. Those were both great - amazing experiences that I am incredibly grateful for and wouldn't trade. During the first one, I rediscovered my passion for music. During the second, I learned to appreciate the joy of sharing music. I know, though, that - ultimately - I'm really not interested in acting. Voice and violin are the loves of my life so the question, I suppose, is why did I not stick with music ministry when I was so involved with it in high school?

During high school, I played at so many Masses, holy hours, and funerals. Homeschool provided a lot of flexibility here, especially for playing with the pick up choir at funerals. What I never liked, though, was the absence of a choir loft. As involved as I was, the temptation to make music a performance was always too great when I had to sing and play in front of the congregation and that always bothered me so much (that and distractions were numerous). I didn't play much at all in college and pretty much stopped for several years after college. Doing the shows got me playing again after my experience of workaholism, the mental breakdown and subsequent therapy and returning to work. I will always be grateful for the shows.

A year and a half ago, I attended the groundbreaking for the new Church of the parish where I was raised. This new building promised to be beyond beautiful and to include a choir loft! It was certainly promising... and the building process gave me time to do another show.

Then last year, I moved and while my new home was further away, I still considered it close enough to the Church to be a possibility. So, just in the last month, I reached out to my parent's Church and the Church near me which I frequent. To keep the story short and sweet, I ended up playing and singing at my parent's Church on Epiphany Sunday... which also happened to be the anniversary of St. Therese's birthday.

That girl is always there. Always.

Oh and that part about returning to music ministry? I'm so very grateful that the stars have finally aligned. I've been waiting a long time and I feel like I can breathe again. Praise Jesus!

My Word for the (Liturgical) New Year 2021

Autumn always has me thinking about my word for the new year and so, as the seasons changed weeks ago, I began praying with different Saint quotes for possibilities of what my new word might be. I initially thought that I would have a hard time choosing between two words. Then, I decided to pray another 54 day rosary novena (my 3rd one this year and offered, in part, for this intention) and am surprised by what my word for the new year has turned out to be. It's neither of the words that I was deliberating over! Lest I get too far ahead of myself, though...

My word for this past year was an unexpected gift, a checkpoint that proved far more precious than I ever could have anticipated. As I strove to find a Rhythm in the new year I was, at that point, still only a few months on my own after moving out of my parents' home and the same old little things kept frustrating me. I wondered whether Rhythm was the right word at all. 

Then March came along and, with it, COVID came to Virginia. I was surprised by how calm I was in the face of the possibility of such unknown and uncertainty as the stress and anxiety levels of the people around me seemed to shoot through the roof (in fact, I very nearly went out to get a Corona beer as an effort to make light of it the weekend that COVID came to Virginia). Though I cried when I found out that the school year had come to an abrupt end (more for grief over the preschool class that I never got to say goodbye to than from the reality of losing my job), I soon realized that the year and a half of intense therapy I had following my breakdown several years ago prepared me very well for this unforeseen chapter. As I tried to figure out what God would have me do for a source of income while I waited for my school to reopen, my desire to find a Rhythm about these strange days truly helped me to keep my heart up.

So for 5 months, I accepted unemployment, made friends with the most adorable identical twin little boys ever (i.e. a regular babysitting job with a family from my school community), read books with a passion that I hadn't had since high school (Anne of Green Gables, you were the best company!) probably watched a few movies (some of them repetitively), and chose to delight myself in the slow, peaceful Rhythm of the ordinary. In the interest of a good night's rest, I made the conscious decision to not watch the news and relied primarily on my family and housemates for the most vital information. To be quite honest, most of quarantine felt like a much-needed retreat!

I became reemployed in August and the parents who made the courageous choice to send their little ones to school made me (and hopefully my coworkers) feel like superheroes; I quickly turned the sentiment around because I am fully aware that, without them, I wouldn't have a job!

Though the amount of daily cleaning and temperature checks that we are required to do was initially overwhelming and exhausting, I soon fell into a sweet Rhythm and realized that my biggest fear wasn't the possibility and increased risk of catching COVID; rather, it was the risk of becoming comfortable and growing lenient about my standards of cleanliness. I've told myself every day, "Don't become too comfortable". So far, our school has done incredibly well. 

As the weeks went by and October arrived, there was a temporary change to my work schedule which meant that, if I was to have the longer early mornings that I enjoy, I had to be awake at 5am. I could not believe how excited I was in anticipation! I've known for forever that I'm a morning person but that I was energized by the thought of being awake at 5am was a wonder to me and I decided to keep it going. I will admit that 5am is very early, though, so I sleep in until 5:30. As of this writing, it's been not quite two months since I started and I have not hit the snooze button once! I now have ample time in the early mornings before work to read books, go for walks and even cook if need be and I am so grateful for the surprise of this newfound Rhythm.

And with that said, I have found that I like there to be some overlap between Words of the Year and so I'll be enlisting both Rhythm and my new word as we begin a new Liturgical year today. Which brings me to the present moment and my word for 2021:

Surprise

I wasn't certain about it at first but, through a lot of prayer, it's become quite clear both that this is my new word and how I should be praying with it as we enter a new Liturgical year and, soon, calendar year. Each week, I'll choose a different fruit of the Holy Spirit (cf. Galatians 5) to pray with, for an increase of in my life. This year, I want to be surprised by peace, joy, love, gentleness, patience, goodness, faithfulness, kindness and self-control and I so look forward to discovering glimpses of God in the most unlikely places.

No matter what the new year holds, what pleasant or unpleasant surprises may lie in wait, I hope that these fruits will grow deep roots in my heart and better prepare me to accept gracefully whatever life throws in my direction. 

Lord, find me grateful. 

I'm no longer able to allow comments on individual posts but you are welcome to email me your thoughts. I look forward to hearing from you! Keep your heart up!

SARAHFIDDL3R@GMAIL.COM

Why I'm Glad I Went to a 12 Step Group When I Did

My brother and I were still living with our parents -- post his college graduation and my mental breakdown -- when this conversation happened. The four of us were having dinner together; I don't remember how we got on the topic, only that we discussed how my sister (who has a Masters in Psychology) is of the opinion that everyone ought to participate in a 12 step program because they're so helpful.

At this point in my life, I had just finished doing a show - my first show in more than 12 years and my very first show as musician - and, although my mental health had been stable for over a year, my stress level was still elevated from the show. That being said, I surprised myself by announcing that I'd be quite fine with going to a 12 step group -- if one existed for people with mental health struggles (I didn't want to go to an AA meeting even though I'm told that everyone is welcome there). And so from there, I emailed the therapist that I was seeing at the time and asked her if she knew of any 12 step groups that would be good for me. She knew of two; one was Emotions Anonymous (which I know nothing about) and the other was Celebrate Recovery. I got on Celebrate Recovery's website, found contact info for the group that was closest to me and emailed the leader. I received a warm, welcoming and inviting email back and, due to a previously scheduled conflict, put it on my calendar to go in a couple of weeks.

The day of, I went to work, per usual, and was insanely anxious the whole day in anticipation of going into something so unknown by myself. I was so determined to do it, though, so I took my emergency medication to help me calm down and texted my family to ask them for prayers. While the seconds ticked away at work, I was amused that I didn't mind any of the children's behavior since it worked as such a great distraction for me.

And then I went. It was one of the first times following my breakdown that I went to a new place for the first time without having driven there the day before to figure out where it was (my intention being to give myself one less thing to be anxious about). This time, I drove confidently and parked out of sight of the door. A few minutes before the meeting began, I finally took a deep breath and walked through the doors like I knew what I was doing. I walked up to a couple of people who were sitting at a table chatting. It turns out that one of them was the group's leader (who I had emailed) and the other a woman who would be in my small share group. I was warmly welcomed and was immediately aware of a strange confidence I had, despite my anxiety, that I was exactly where God wanted me to be.

The meeting went very well. I felt loved, included and understood. When I returned home, I told my mom that I would be going back the following week. And I did!

I attended every week for an entire year before COVID hit and in that time I formed friendships with people who I saw myself being friends with and even a few who I thought I'd never be friends with. Two of the girls I met there are now my best friends and, with a couple of other girls who we've brought in through different connections, we now do weekly movie nights. And each week as we're watching the movie, it's a wonder to me how I got here. Before my childhood best friend died, I was so lively and outgoing. Then, for 12 years, I lived in ignorance of the anxiety and isolation that I experienced every day. I finally got to therapy but only after a mental breakdown. Then came a show which gave me the courage to go to a 12 step group and I'm now the happiest I've been since childhood!

These life experiences and choices have been hard and, at times, excruciating but today I can confidently say that absolutely all of it has been so worth it. And Celebrate Recovery? Going was one of the best choices of my entire life.

I'm no longer able to allow comments on individual posts but you are welcome to email me your thoughts. I look forward to hearing from you! Keep your heart up!

SARAHFIDDL3R@GMAIL.COM

Fly a Little Higher: The Story of Zach Sobiech

Zach's story will never cease to inspire me. Every time I listen to his music, watch his videos, or read the book that his mom wrote about him posthumously, I cry and am filled with inspiration for how to live my own life more fully. I recently watched a new movie called "Clouds" which is about Zach's life and is based on the book his mother wrote, titled "Fly a Little Higher".

Zach Sobiech wanted to be remembered as the kid who went down fighting osteosarcoma cancer and died at age 18... but didn't really lose. His inspiration still lives today not because he's a kid who died of cancer but because of the way in which he chose to live his final days. I struggle with mental illness on a daily basis and if I am asked what advice I would give to someone who shares my struggles, I would take inspiration from Zach. He said the following in his "My Last Days" video on YouTube: "I just want everyone to know: you don't have to wait to find out you're dying to start living."

I first learned of Zach Sobiech when my sister told me that a musician had died the day before. A musician myself, I was immediately curious and looked up whatever I could find about Zach. As a devout Catholic myself who has a surprising amount of experience with grief for my age, I figured out when his funeral was, figured out the time difference from Minnesota to Virginia, and was praying for them during his funeral. When his mom's book, Fly a Little Higher, came out, they somehow found the blog that I was writing at the time (a different one from this one) and contacted me, asking if they could send me a free copy of the book in exchange for a review on my blog. Of course, I said yes, received the book in the mail, read it and cried. I don't cry easily, but this time the tears blinded my eyes and I couldn't even see the page let alone read the words. I had never met the family and had never been to Minnesota, but this story was stunningly beautiful.

Now it's 2020, seven years following Zach's death. The world is facing an unprecedented pandemic. I was among the many who lost their jobs though my experience was, perhaps, far less stressful with the knowledge of a guaranteed job back. While unemployed, I had a daily babysitting job with a family from my school's community - two adorable identical twin boys. Though I know them very well now, for almost a month, the only way I could tell them apart was by the freckle on the left cheek of one. Many, many times while driving to the twins' home, I listened to Clouds on Spotify - Zach's hit song. I've never met the family, though I do have that small connection with them, and I continually find encouragement in Zach's message to fly a little higher.

And so, while hanging out with a friend recently, we were browsing Disney + looking for something to watch and I noticed a movie called "Clouds". I asked my friend about it, crossing my fingers that it would be about Zach and -- sure enough -- it was! We got our tissues ready and sat back, eager to be inspired. Come to find out that this movie was released only 8 days prior and that, following its release, Zach's hit song "Clouds" hit the iTunes song chart at the #1 spot a second time, 7 years after his death!

I've overcome major depression and I'm learning, every day, to live well with clinical anxiety. Depression feels like death and anxiety makes you think that you're going to die. Encouraged by Zach's words, I just want everyone to know that you don't have to wait to feel like you're dying to start living. You are strong and brave and you can do this, living just one day at a time, one moment at a time, and accepting hardships as a pathway to peace. Jesus came that you might have life and have it abundantly; I believe that, walking together, we can all live this reality.

Zach inspires me to reach for the clouds, to fly a little higher, to see the good in every individual and rejoice in the gift of another day of life. I encourage you to listen to the song, watch his My Last Days and My Last Days (A Year Later) videos on YouTube, read the book and watch the movie. Let this weird, joyful goof of a guy make you smile, laugh and cry. Let him teach you a little more about an abundant life. Let him surprise you with joy. 

I'm no longer able to allow comments on individual posts but you are welcome to email me your thoughts. I look forward to hearing from you! Keep your heart up!

SARAHFIDDL3R@GMAIL.COM

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.