Last week in Relief Society Mom gave the lesson based on Elder Holland's talk, "Like a Broken Vessel." It went really well. She talked about her experiences with depression and of having family members with depression. She shared my blog post about my last suicide attempt and surprisingly I was okay with it.
At the end of her lesson, Mom asked if anyone had anything they would like to share concerning the lesson and also depression in general. Several people raised their hands. Many of them shared experiences that they had or asked questions about what they could say or do.
Before we ended, I invited everyone to attend the Addiction Recovery groups. I told how I have been attending since April and that I have felt a difference in my life, even though I am struggling to work on the steps. I explained that I feel it is an inspired program and that it applies to everyone not just to people with addictions. At Tuesday's AR meeting one of the sister's and her husband attended.
I hope that those sisters who heard the lesson are more aware of what depression is and that it affects more people than we realize. I feel like I need to do more to bring awareness to this disease. I am not sure how to go about it yet, but I pray that I will be more willing to talk about my experience in places besides here.
Before RS last week one of the counselors in the presidency told me that they would like to start singing, instead of having a lesson, once a month or every other month. At the end of class last week she announced to the sisters that we would be singing hymns this week and to come prepared to sing their favorite hymns.
During the week I received a phone call from the RS President. She called to clear up some confusion about how often we would sing for the lesson and also what she had in mind. She said that we would just do this once or twice a year. I said that I am okay with however she wants to do it.
During Sacrament Meeting I found a short story about music from last months Ensign. It was by chance that i came across it since I was looking up articles on testimonies. I felt like maybe I could use the story as part of our singing time in RS. However, when the time came it didn't quite seem right. My next thought was to share it here and so I have posted it below.
During Sunday School I went and helped in the nursery. I lost track of time and so I was late for RS. I walked in during the opening hymn. Thankfully Mom had stepped in to lead.
After the opening prayer, the president got up and read the First Presidency message found in the front of the Hymn book. She then talked about the song she had chosen and then we sang it. I then just let the sisters choose. The counselors in the presidency went first and then other sisters chose songs and explained why they chose them.
My thought was to go until it was time to share testimonies and then share my favorite hymn. When I picked the last sister she chose my hymn. After she explained why she chose it I said that it was also my favorite, After singing all four verses I explained why I liked it. The hymn was "I Know That My Redeemer Lives." I told how the third verse was my favorite because it talks about how the Savior comforts us in times of need. I then bore my testimony that I do know my Savior lives and loves me. I explained that I am grateful that because of the Atonement the Savior knows everything we go through and that He wants to comfort us.
I also bore my testimony of the power of good music, especially hymns. I feel more at peace when I listen to good music than at other times.
 Yesterday morning I awoke at 2:30 am and could not go back to sleep. After a while the EFY version of "I Know That My Redeemer Lives" started going through my head. I decided to get up and look for pictures of Christ on the internet, including Pinterest. I want to share one of my favorite pictures and also a a video of the hymn.
HE LIVES!

What Would I Sing? David M. Flitton, Utah, USA

During my service as a full-time missionary nearly 40 years ago in the town of Levin, New Zealand, I played the piano each Tuesday for the Primary children. I remember well the wonderful feelings I had for these children as we sang together the gospel-rich Primary songs.

In February 2013, I returned to New Zealand on vacation. Being an avid hiker, I booked a four-day hiking excursion of the famous Milford Track in Fiordland National Park on the South Island.

I was joined by three Americans and 37 other hikers from around the world, including Australia, Brazil, England, Finland, Germany, Israel, and Uruguay. During our adventure, we shared thoughts, experiences, and opinions as best we could given our language barriers. It didn’t take long for our cultural differences and preconceived opinions to melt away under our growing bonds.

At the end of our third day of hiking, one of the hikers wanted to build upon our growing friendships and sprang to his feet, announcing that we should hold a talent show. He said he would begin the show. He chose to share his storytelling talent, which he had been practicing at his business office in Caesarea, Israel. His story went well, so he announced that he would tell another one. But as he shared some off-color remarks, I realized that the evening could easily turn out to be something less than uplifting.

During his story, I felt a strong impression to sing for the group. But what would I sing to my newfound friends from all over the world? The answer came to me forcefully: “I Am a Child of God” (Hymns, no. 301).

I was anxious but drew upon my memories of and love for the Primary children of New Zealand. I rose to my feet and explained that I would sing a special song that I had sung nearly 40 years ago with children in New Zealand. I explained that I had been a missionary, had taught these children, and had grown to love them. I then said a silent prayer, asking for help to sing in a manner that would bless the group.

The song went well, and afterward I could feel the Spirit. My new friends smiled, and the song seemed to open their hearts. It wasn’t long before others rose and began sharing their musical talents. A group of four ladies, previously reluctant to participate, sang selections from their church choir. Another hiker taught us a Jewish folk song.

At the end of the talent show, a beautiful young woman from Australia sang three songs in Maori, her native tongue. Truly the Spirit of our Heavenly Father had distilled upon us and helped us realize that we were all children of God, not just “strangers and foreigners” (Ephesians 2:19) from various lands.

I am thankful for those Primary children in the small town of Levin who helped instill in me the truth that we are all children of our Heavenly Father. I am also glad those memories gave me the courage to share that testimony through song.

So, I know you have been waiting to hear the results of my hearing. Well, so am I.
According to my attorney, the hearing went well. I was so nervous and anxious I thought I might throw up, pass out, or both. As usual, I cried through most of it. Even though my attorney had told me what to expect, my anxiety levels were pretty high. In fact, I twisted and almost shredded several tissues throughout the meeting.
The judge started out by asking questions about my physical limitations. I was under oath to tell the truth about anything he asked. I explained how I have a hard time standing or sitting for long periods of time and how my arm and especially my hand are almost always numb and/or tingling. Next my attorney focused on my mental issues. He had me talk about my suicide attempts and also my hospitalization. To finish off, the judge asked a work specialist what kind of jobs he felt I could do physically. The specialist said that I could do small parts assembly or laundry folding. When the judge asked him about my mental ability he said that he doesn't think I can handle a full time job. The judge asked a few more questions and then the hearing was dismissed.
After the hearing was over my attorney met with me and my parents to explain what happens next. He said we will have to wait 4-5 weeks for a decision. If the judge rules in my favor then I will be sent some forms to fill out in order to get my money and pay the attorney. I will also qualify for Medicare and so I will have to figure that out. If I get denied then my attorney will help me decide whether or not to file for an appeal.
Last week I got a letter stating that it could take 4-6 months for a decision and up to another three months before I get paid. In other words it is still a waiting game.
 

Mom has been asked to give the lesson in Relief Society, the women's organization of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, this coming Sunday. She was told she could teach whatever she wanted. She chose a talk that I have shared here by Elder Jeffrey R Holland titled "Like a Broken Vessel." She felt like she needed to talk about it and share some statistics on depression and suicide. She asked if she could use some of my experiences that I have posted about. I don't know how comfortable I am with this but I figure I can always leave if I have to. On the other hand, when she told me she had been asked to teach, I had a strong feeling that she should teach this. I know she will do a good job and won't do anything intentional to hurt or embarrass me, but I am still nervous about it.
The last few weeks I have been fighting to keep the depression away. I can feel the negative thoughts and feelings creeping in. I find myself crying for no apparent reason. In fact, I stayed home from the temple today because I don't feel good, Deep down I know it is the depression causing me to feel this way.
I have started back at work preparing for preschool to start. As Miss Sandra and I have been cleaning we have been listening to a motivational speaker. It has been very interesting. He has shared some ideas on how to deal with stress on one CD and on another he shared an experience similar to one I've had about the Atonement. It was very uplifting.
School starts next Tuesday and I am looking forward to getting back into a routine. I love being around the little kids and seeing their faces light up when they learn new things. I feel so much love for and from those wonderful children. I am hoping that by getting back to routine and being around the kids that I can more easily push the negative thoughts aside and focus on the positive

I am saddened by the loss of a great actor and comedian, Robin Williams, who died of an apparent suicide. He has apparently battled depression for a long time. Who knew, right? How can somebody who seemed happy in public and who entertained millions with his sometimes off-color sense of humor, have depression? To me this is just proof that depression and other mental illnesses can affect anybody. Sometimes you just don't know the darkness people are in. That is why it is important to not judge and to try and get to know somebody. Learn what drives them and what gets them down. Look for warning signs and be willing to get them help if needed.
This morning I came across an article that talks about depression. It does well in describing some of the thoughts and feelings I have had throughout my life. I have posted it below:

Going public with depression By Kat Kinsman, CNN updated 7:11 AM EDT, Tue August 12, 2014

Editor's note: Comedic actor Robin Williams died at his Northern California home Monday, law enforcement officials said. Williams was 63. His representative said, "He has been battling severe depression of late." CNN's Kat Kinsman writes that talking freely about personal mental health issues and suicidal thoughts, whether you're a public figure or a private person, can help those who share the struggle.

(CNN) -- I am 14 years old, it's the middle of the afternoon, and I'm curled into a ball at the bottom of the stairs. I've intended to drag my uncooperative limbs upstairs to my dark disaster of a bedroom and sleep until everything hurts a little less, but my body and brain have simply drained down. I crumple into a bony, frizzy-haired heap on the gold shag rug, convinced that the only thing I have left to offer the world is the removal of my ugly presence from it, but at that moment, I'm too exhausted to do anything about it.

I sink into unconsciousness, mumbling over and over again, "I need help... I need help... I need help." I'm too quiet. No one hears.

Several months, countless medical tests and many slept-through school days later, a diagnosis is dispensed, along with a bottle of thick, chalky pills. There is palpable relief from my physician and parents; nothing is physically wrong with me (thank God, not the cancer they've quietly feared) -- likely just a bout of depression. While it helps a little to have a name for the sensation, I'm less enthralled with the diagnosis, because I know it will return. While this is the first time it's manifested heavily enough for anyone else to see it, I've been slipping in and out of this dull gray sweater for as long as I can remember.

Robin Williams: 9 Memorable Moments What doesn't help at the time are the pills: clunky mid-1980s tricyclic antidepressants that seize up my bowels, cause my tongue to click from lack of moisture, and upon my return to school cause me to nearly pitch over a third-story railing from dizziness. I flush the rest and, mercifully, no one bothers me about it.

If they do, I probably don't even notice; my brain is too occupied, thrumming with guilt, stupidity and embarrassment. Nothing is physically wrong. It's all in your head. This ache, this low, this sickness, this sadness -- they are of your making and there is no cure.

Kat Kinsman Now, 25 years later, I've lost too much time and too many people to feel any shame about the way my psyche is built. How from time to time, for no good reason, it drops a thick, dark jar over me to block out air and love and light, and keeps me at arm's length from the people I love most.

The pain and ferocity of the bouts have never eased, but I've lived in my body long enough to know that while I'll never "snap out of it," at some point the glass will crack and I'll be free to walk about in the world again. It happens every time, and I have developed a few tricks to remind myself of that as best I can when I'm buried deepest.

The thing that's always saved me has been regular sessions with an excellent therapist and solidarity with other people battling the same gray monster (medication worked for me for a little while -- I take nothing now, but it's a lifesaver and a necessity for some). When I was diagnosed, it was not in an era of Depression Pride parades on the main street of my small Kentucky town. In 1987, less than one person in 100 was being treated for depression. That had doubled in 1997, and by 2007, the number had increased to slightly less than three.

My friend Dave was part of that tally. We met in our freshman year of college, and he was one of the loudest, funniest, most exuberant humans I'd ever met -- and the most deeply depressed. Not that anyone outside our intimate circle knew; like many of us who live with the condition, he wore a brighter self in public to distract from the darkness that settled over him behind closed doors. Most people don't see depression in others, and that's by design. We depressives simply spirit ourselves away when we've dimmed so as not to stain those who live in the sun.

Dave saw it in me, though, and I in him; and for the first time in my life, I felt somewhat normal. Like I didn't have to tap dance, sparkle and shine to distract from the fact that I was broken. I could just be me, and that wasn't a half-bad thing in his eyes. I began to tell more people as plainly as I did other facts of my being -- I was born in New Jersey, my real hair color under all this pink dye is very dark brown, and I've suffered from depression as long as I can remember. I'm Kat -- nice to know you.

Dave never made it that far. His cracks were too deep and dark, and he poured so much vodka down into them to dilute the pain. A year after graduation, in the late summer of 1995, I was unsurprised but thoroughly gutted when I got the call -- Dave had tidied his apartment, neatly laid out a note, his accounts and bills, next to checks from his balanced checkbook, and stepped into a closet with a belt.

I see Dave in little flashes all the time, still -- hear his braying OHMYGAAWWWDD laugh around a corner and see his handsome gap-toothed smile in a crowd. I want to smack him full across the face for giving up and leaving us all, and I want to drag him to a computer and sit him down: Look -- we're not alone.

Dave was the first person I ever knew with Internet access. Among a million other things I wish he'd lived to see is the community of souls online, generously baring and sharing their depression struggles with strangers. There's no substitute for quality therapy (in whatever flavor you take it) or medication (if that's your cup of homeopathic tea), but by God, it's hard to get there.

To see your feelings echoed and normalized in essays like comedian Rob Delaney's much-forwarded "On Depression and Getting Help"; author Stephen Fry's legendary letter to a fan, "It will be sunny one day"; the ongoing, public struggles of widely read bloggers and authors Dooce and The Bloggess; and guests of the no-edges-blunted WTF Podcast from comedian Marc Maron -- all highly successful and public people -- is to dare to let a crack of blue sky into the basement where you've been tucked away. I can barely imagine what it would have meant to my 14-year-old self to read Delaney's words:

"The sole reason I've written this is so that someone who is depressed or knows someone who is depressed might see it. ... But after having been through depression and having had the wonderful good fortune to help a couple of people who've been through it, I will say that as hard as it is, IT CAN BE SURVIVED. And after the stabilization process, which can be and often is f**king terrifying, a HAPPY PRODUCTIVE LIFE is possible and statistically likely. Get help. Don't think. Get help."

Or Fry's:

"Here are some obvious things about the weather:
It's real.
You can't change it by wishing it away.
If it's dark and rainy it really is dark and rainy and you can't alter it.
It might be dark and rainy for two weeks in a row.
BUT
It will be sunny one day.
It isn't under one's control as to when the sun comes out, but come out it will.
One day.

It really is the same with one's moods, I think. The wrong approach is to believe that they are illusions. They are real. Depression, anxiety, listlessness -- these are as real as the weather -- AND EQUALLY NOT UNDER ONE'S CONTROL. Not one's fault.

BUT

They will pass: they really will."

Dave will never see those words, or these, but someone will -- including the 14-year-old me who still sometimes rides shotgun as I'm driving through a storm. I show her these words, these essays, these poems, these podcasts beamed out by the other souls who glitter out in the darkness. And I take her hand and lead her up the stairs.

These are my favorite posts, podcasts and essays on living with depression. Have another? Please share it in the comments below.

Rob Delaney - On Depression and Getting Help
Marc Maron and Todd Hanson - WTF Podcast
 Kay Redfield Jamison - Acknowledging Depression
The Bloggess - The fight goes on
Dooce - Surrender
Stephen Fry - It will be sunny one day
David Foster Wallace - The Depressed Person
Rebecca O'Neal - The Depressive's Guide to Comedy
Captain Awkward - The case for therapy
Katherine Sharpe - In Praise of Depression
Mooshinindy - The Depression Ones
Miss Banshee's Inverse Candlelight -- The Slip
William Styron - Darkness Visible
Hyperbole and a Half - Adventures in Depression


If you are depressed or have had thoughts of suicide, please seek help. Here are a few resources:

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
National Alliance on Mental Illness
Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance
American Psychiatric Association

As I am writing this post, my parents are getting ready to head to Salt Lake City. My Social Security Hearing is tomorrow. A lot of my case is based on my depression and anxiety in addition to my neck and back problems. I am nervous for the outcome but at the same time I am feeling more peace than the last time. I have an attorney who has assured me that I have a good chance. I am hoping that everything goes well, however, your thoughts and prayers in my behalf would be greatly appreciated.


10 Things to Say (and 10 Not to Say) to Someone With Depression

How to show you care

What do you say to someone who’s depressed? All too often, it’s the wrong thing.

“People still have such a cloudy idea of what mental illness is,” says Kathleen Brannon, of Herndon, Va.

“Sometimes people will say, ‘Oh, you’re depressed? Yeah, I’ve been depressed,’ and you realize just the way they say it that, nooo, it’s not quite the same thing. It’s not just that I’m feeling sad or blue.”

Below is a list of helpful things to tell someone battling depression, followed by what not to say, courtesy of the Depression Alliance.


I’m here for you
What to say:
You’re not alone in this.

What NOT to say:
There’s always someone worse off than you are.


You matter
What to say:
You are important to me.

What NOT to say:
No one ever said that life was fair.


Let me help
What to say:
Do you want a hug?

What NOT to say:
Stop feeling sorry for yourself.


Depression is real
What to say:
You are not going crazy.

What NOT to say:
So you’re depressed. Aren’t you always?


There is hope
What to say:
We are not on this earth to see through one another, but to see one another through.

What NOT to say:
Try not to be so depressed.


You can survive this
What to say:
When all this is over, I’ll still be here and so will you.

What NOT to say:
It’s your own fault.


I’ll do my best to understand
What to say:
I can’t really understand what you are feeling, but I can offer my compassion.

What NOT to say:
Believe me, I know how you feel. I was depressed once for several days.


You won’t drive me away
What to say:
I’m not going to leave you or abandon you.

What NOT to say:
I think your depression is a way of punishing us.


I care about you
What to say:
I love you. (Say this only if you mean it.)

What NOT to say:
Haven’t you grown tired of all this “me, me, me” stuff yet?


We’ll get through this together
What to say:
I’m sorry that you’re in so much pain. I am not going to leave you. I am going to take care of myself, so you don’t need to worry that your pain might hurt me.

What NOT to say:
Have you tried chamomile tea?

J

I have often wondered if anybody reads my blog or even if they pay attention when I post about my life on Facebook. I have been struggling a little bit to keep things positive especially when I am having a bad day. So I apologize and I will try harder to be positive even in bad situations.
I watched a few videos of John Bytheway on YouTube yesterday. One of them talked about a man who made the choice every day to be happy. One day he went to work and when he entered through the back service entrance the door was unlocked. He was held up at gun point and the robbers demanded he give them the money from the safe. As he tremblingly tried to open the combination his hand slipped and one of the intruders shot him. The robbers ran as the man sank to the floor, wounded. He said he remembered thinking that he could choose to die or he could choose to live. He wasn't ready to die so he chose to live.
eventually this man found himself being prepared for surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage caused from having been shot. He said he looked at the doctors and nurses and their faces were grim as if they didn't expect things to go well. He had been continuously saying to himself, I choose to live. When a nurse asked him if he was allergic to anything, he replied yes.....bullets!!! The surgical staff chuckled and he told the doctor that he was choosing to live so the doctor better operate as if he believed the man would live and be okay. Obviously the man lived to tell his story.
The reason I brought this up is because I have decided that I want to try harder to be happy. I can't completely help some of the depression and anxiety and I especially can't always control the pain. However, I can choose how I deal with it.
In the last month or so, I have heard from a couple people who have told me that I have inspired them with my story. The first being a member of the family who has a lot of health issues. He told me that because of my efforts in trying to get help, he was going to start pursuing help for his problems. He recently went back to work and I am praying that he will be successful.
The other person is a long-time friend of the family. My parents ran into her at Walmart a couple of weeks ago and began to chat. She told them that she has been struggling with her health and depression. She told them that from reading my blog, she had decided that if I can get through my problems so can she.
It has been a dream of mine that I could help at least one person through sharing my story. I have now helped two, even if it is just a little bit. I hope that I can help more, but then again that isn't the real reason I started this blog. The main reason for starting was to help myself, to have an outlet to express my thoughts and feelings and hopefully learn from the things I post. Helping others is a bonus.
I really don't have much else to say. My second try for my Social Security hearing is next week, on Wednesday the 13th. Hopefully things will turn out for the best.
One last thought. I am working on adding another page about what I believe as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I hope it doesn't sound too preachy, but I am writing as a former missionary with the hopes that maybe I can reach somebody else in a different better way. To be honest, the Church has played a big role in where I am today so I felt the need to share. Be sure to check it out!

WARNING: This post may contain details that are upsetting to some people. Please be aware and proceed as you feel you can handle reading about these sensitive issues.
I am writing this blog post to ask for your faith and prayers in my behalf. This coming Thursday I have a hearing for Social Security Disability. I have been denied three times already without going before the judge. This time I will have a video conference with a judge to determine if I qualify. I am extremely anxious about what is going to happen.
I have filed for disability based on my depression and anxiety as well as my neck and back problems due to the possibility of Fybromyalgia.
In the last four years I have been dealing with pain in my neck and shoulder along with tingling and numbness in my left arm. I injured my neck somehow four years ago and have had trouble ever since with doing tasks that I used to do regularly such as standing for long periods, holding things or lifting, especially with my left hand and arm, sitting for long periods, among other things. My arm even tingles & goes numb sometimes when I am driving, especially long distances.
I worked as a substitute custodian for a while when living in Bountiful. It was hard work and hard on my body. Every day I would go home in pain sometimes crying because I hurt so bad. The worst was when I had to use the backpack type vacuums, the kind that looks like something off of Ghostbusters. That killed my neck and shoulders and a lot of the time I would really feel it the next day as I stayed in bed for as long as possible. I worked most of the summer with the possibility of being hired more permanently when school started. However, one day the head custodian asked to talk to me and she told me that I had gotten sick too many times and that she didn't think I could physically handle the job. I was told to go home and not bother coming back. I was devastated. I hadn't seen it coming especially since I had been trying my best and didn't complain.
That event triggered a panic attack and some suicidal thoughts. I ended up driving to the temple where I sat across the street and tried to enjoy the peace of looking up at the temple and looking down on the valley and across the Great Salt Lake. I called and talked to my counselor after sending out a text to let people know what was going on. After receiving advice from the counselor and several good friends and family, I was able to calm down and go back home. That ended up being the trigger that seemed to make everything from there on go down hill. It was a month later when my dad lost his job. Two months later, after not finding a job and bills piling up, I was in Walmart where I had a breakdown/panic attack that led me to the hospital for two weeks.
As I have mentioned in the past, I have dealt with depression and anxiety most of my life. It started to get out of hand when I was on my mission. That was when I first had suicidal thoughts, but didn't ever feel desperate enough to act on them. Since my injury to my neck I have intentionally overdosed twice. The first time was April 2011 and the second was November 2013. I have often had suicidal thoughts and feelings, some as recently as the past month.
 I have been seeing my regular doctor once a week since my last overdose so that he can monitor my medications. He is helping me to manage my depression and anxiety. He has treated my neck and other physical problems as well. I also visit with an LCSW every three or four weeks for therapy/counseling.
In the past I have seen a physical therapist and a couple of chiropractors to help with the physical problems. For a long time I went to physical therapy where I could use the equipment for doing certain exercises. But recently I have just been walking and doing the stretching at home. There isn't a whole lot the therapist can do since I don't have adequate insurance to have the nerve testing done that he would like me to have. I only go to the chiropractor if I am in extreme pain and can't move because the insurance I do have does not cover chiropractic care. One of the chiropractors used to do acupuncture and a few other things that seemed to help a little but here again it comes down to insurance.
I have several bills that I have to pay every month including some credit card debt and doctor & hospital bills from my last overdose. Not working full-time, or not at all, makes it difficult to pay and keep caught up. I also have my co-pays for my doctor & counseling visits. The thing that I struggle with paying the most are my medications. Two of them are pretty expensive, one is almost $200 a month and the other is about $80. I take a multi-vitamin, iron supplement, Vitamin D3 supplement, blood pressure pill, thyroid pill, a pill for heartburn/acid reflux, anxiety meds, meds for the Fybromyalgia, and my depression meds. I take nine pills in the morning, two in the afternoon, and six at night. Sometimes I feel like an old person with all the medicine I take.
I was working full-time at the local grocery store when I injured my neck four years ago this month. After two months of taking time off and then going back to work every couple weeks, I was eventually told to take time off indefinitely. It ended up being about six months. In the meantime bills were adding up and I had to move out of my cute apartment because I couldn't pay rent. I finally got cleared to go back to work part-time doing light duty.
I went back to the store working between 10-18 hours. I had been working 35-40 hours prior to my leave of absence. The stress of not being able to get ahead on my bills and the stress of living in a houseful at my sister's began to be too much. Eventually I went in to talk to the psychiatrist and was told I couldn't because I was too far behind on my bills. That was the straw that broke the camel's back after a long week of bad days. I went home and over the course of the next three or four days slowly overdosed on my meds.
When I get stressed out, especially when under a lot of pressure, my depression gets worse. It also doesn't help that I am  in pain almost all the time. I have learned to deal with the pain for the most part but it still gets me down. Another trigger for my depression, and especially anxiety, is fear of the unknown and also any change that I have no control over.. Maybe fear isn't quite the right word but it is close.  This upcoming hearing is definitely an unknown. I have no idea what to expect. I have never been before a judge and in some ways it is making me feel like I am guilty of something and need to defend myself.
I am sorry if it seems I have been rambling. I tend to do that a lot when I am anxious or nervous. As the day gets closer for the hearing the more nervous I feel. That is why I am asking for your prayers in my behalf. I know there is strength in numbers and I hope that the faith of family and friends can help my faith which is weak.
The hearing is this Thursday, June 19,2014 at 10:45am. I have to be in Salt Lake to video conference with the judge who will be in New Mexico. That is another reason I am nervous. I would rather meet in person, face to face.
Yesterday my parents and I and some others had a special fast. I added my own name to the Manti Temple prayer roll last Thursday toward the end of my shift. I know many people already who are joining us in prayer, but as I said, there is strength in numbers.
Thank you so much for your support.

Happy Father's Day to all the dad's out there, especially my dad. He has been there for me in so many ways no matter what the circumstances. I am grateful for all the things he has taught me. I love being able to spend time with him. I am most grateful that he holds and honors the priesthood. Through it he has been able to bless me in many trials and illnesses, anxieties and more.
This is not the post I had originally begun. I started one last night that I was going to finish & post today. However, when I sat down I felt like I should post about fathers.
My dad was born in Price, Utah and has spent most of his life in Emery County. He first lived in Hiawatha, Carbon County, Utah and then later moved to Orangeville where he was raised on a farm. After high school he served an LDS mission to British Columbia, Canada and went to Snow College in Ephraim, Utah. He met my mother at college. Soon after living in Orangeville for a while they moved to the West Valley area of Salt Lake and that is where I was born.
My siblings and I were all born in Granger, Utah and when I was six we moved to Orangeville. We lived in several different places in Dad's home town and also spent about six months in Castle Dale while I was growing up. Since then he has lived in Elmo & Huntington, Utah. He also lived in Spring Creek, Nevada and Bountiful, Utah before coming back to Emery County & Castle Dale.
The reason we had moved to Orangeville in the first place, was so that my dad could work in the coal mines. Throughout the years he worked hard as a miner but several lay-offs found him working low paying jobs in the local grocery stores. I know my parents struggled to make ends meet every month and I also know how much he hated working those jobs. I know that he did it to care for his family the best he could.
Eventually he went back to mining but when the mine closed he went back to school. He has always enjoyed working with computers and so he decided to go into e-commerce and web design. However, when he finished school he couldn't get a job because he hadn't taken the right classes. For a while he went back to working retail and other odd jobs until the offer came to move to Northeastern Nevada to work in a gold mine. He worked in two different mines in the time he & Mom lived there. Eventually he started driving truck with my brother and we moved to Bountiful (I had moved in with them after my first overdose). They started out driving over the road, cross-country. They eventually started driving a dedicated run to Denver, Colorado. They drove out and back five days a week. After a minor accident, Dad lost that job and started again to look for something to support us. This time he couldn't find anything and so, after several months of looking, he decided to take early retirement. This has actually been a good things in many ways even though the budget is tight every month.
Through all the trials of not working or working low wage jobs, Dad did his best to do whatever he could for us, his family. He supported us by attending our school functions, ball games, pageants, dance recitals,choir concerts, etc. When I played softball he attended as many games as he could where he would cheer me on and offer moral support and give me pointers.
One of my favorite things while growing up was listening to him sing and play his guitar. He would sit out on the porch and us kids would gather around to listen and request our favorites such as; "Puff the Magic Dragon", To Morrow", and "The Old Lady who swallowed a Fly", just to name a few. I still love to hear him. He will come into the office and start to play and I will be in my bedroom singing along.
Another thing I enjoyed doing with my dad, and still do, is going for rides on the desert or mountains and especially going camping. I love nature and the peace I feel among Heavenly Father's creations. I love being able to just sit around the fire and talk or sing. Dad usually brings his guitar. I enjoy when he goes on walks or hikes with me.
One of the biggest reasons I love my dad is because he helped teach me about the Gospel of Jesus Christ. He doesn't always share his testimony out loud but I know he has one just by the things he does. He is a great example to me and I hope he is proud of the things he has done to help and support me especially through my battle with depression and anxiety. He is always willing to give me a priesthood blessing when I ask. I am happy to have the priesthood in my home.
I love my father very much. I know I don't tell him that very often, but I don't know what I would do without him. He is a wonderful example and I am grateful for his love.

The other Father I want to write about is my Heavenly Father. I am so grateful for the testimony I have that He sent us here to earth and is anxiously awaiting the day when we will return to Him. I hope that when I do He will embrace me and say, " well done!"
I am so grateful for the plan that He presented and in which I agreed to that made it possible for me to come to the earth to gain a body and to learn of Him and what He would have me do.
As I write a few scriptures in The Book of Mormon comes to mind. The first is in Mosiah 4:9: "Believe in God; believe that he is, and that he created all things,both in heaven and in earth; believe that he has all wisdom, and all power, both in heaven and in earth; believe that man doth not comprehend all the things which the Lord can comprehend." The other scripture is in Alma 26:11-12. " ...I do not boast in my own strength, nor in my own wisdom; but behold, my joy is full, yea, my heart is brim with joy, and I will rejoice in my God.
"Yea I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things;... for which we will praise his name forever."
The last scripture I want to share is Ether 12:26. It is one of my favorites. "And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them."
I do believe that He created the heavens and the earth and all things upon the earth. Through His plan I know that I am His literal daughter and that He loves me and wants what is best for me, even more than my earthly father. My strength is weak and I know I need to humble myself before Him and He will answer my prayers.
I am grateful to my Father in Heaven for sending His Son to Atone for me that I may be able to repent and someday return to live with them. I am especially grateful for this knowledge as I think of two other fathers in my life, my grandfathers. I know that they live, spiritually, awaiting the time when we can be together again. They were great men and great examples to me. I love and miss them very much.
 

To close I just want to thank all the Father figures in my life. There are many who have helped me along the way. I want my dad to know how much I love and appreciate him and all that he has done and still does for me. Mostly I want to thank my Heavenly Father for giving me my life and for all the blessings I have received.
Happy Father's Day!