Enduring Hard Things

My good friend Jennifer, who I was a Mormon missionary with in Arizona, posted a letter on Facebook from her son who is currently serving a mission in Africa.

“Mundane…that is the word that describes my life!!! haha….There is nothing new to talk about or report….I keep grasping for straws…I’ve got some things to talk about, but I’ve realized that almost every day is the same…I wake up at the same time every day, bucket shower, get dressed, eat, study from the scriptures, study with my companion, go out, teach, find, walk around in the heat, come back home, eat, plan, sleep and repeat…occasionally we have a meeting and it just makes me so happy cause it breaks the monotony of the week!! haha….I honestly think I’d rather endure hard things than endure monotonous things….and I’d say “knock on wood”, but im gonna stand by my statement!!”

I quickly commented to Jen, “Oh no…that boy did not just ask for hard things…”

Mormon missionaries are taught that humility is key in living a Christlike life and in having the ability to draw others to Christ.  We both prayed for it on our mission.  And we both have had some pretty humbling experiences.  But regardless of whether or not you pray for humility, life can be humbling…it kind of comes with the territory.

The Stress Vulnerability Model

My employer sent me to a seminar at Yale to be trained for my current position, and one of the the things those Yale professors stressed was the importance of The Stress Vulnerability Model.  I had heard about this before but it’s always good to be reminded.  The thinking is that pretty much everyone on earth has the potential to become psychotic, but that genetics and stress play a huge role.  If you are more sensitive because of your genetics, it doesn’t take as much stress as it would for someone with less genetic propensity.

For instance, if you take someone who has been screened for exceptional emotional and mental wellness and then deprive them of sleep and start starving them and torturing them, they’ll eventually start to show a psychotic symptom or two.  If psychotic disorders run in your family, however, if could take a much less stressful blip to send you over the edge.

Hail Humility

There are others in my extended family who have psychotic disorders, so when I was born I had genetic risk.  And when I had my first psychotic “break” in high school, the stress was intense.  When I went into the hospital on my mission, I was living on an Indian reservation, working incredibly long days with only a half a day off a week, isolated from contact from family and friends, and incredibly worried about many of the children with whom I worked.  I started losing sleep because of the stress.  The loss of sleep sent me over the edge and I ended up in a mental hospital.  And the experience I had in the hospital didn’t help to relieve any of my stress.  Be careful what you ask for.  Humility came my way.

I learned about the stress vulnerability model over the years and have worked really hard to apply it to my life.  I try really hard to take good care of myself.  I try to get to the spa at least once a month, I try to walk every day for 20 minute increments throughout and while I walk I meditate.  I takes baths with epsom salt or baking soda many times a week.  I’ve gotten much better at asking for help, knowing my limits, and not being hard on myself over a messy house, not being a great host when friends visit…and all the other little details I could nag myself over.  I thought I had my self care routine down pretty good, but still ended up in the hospital in 2013.  Sometimes the stress in your life just can’t be controlled.

A Hard Thing is a Hell of a Teacher

Jennifer and I continued to type back and forth about her son’s letter and I wrote, “You’ve raised one awesome son..who may be about to get even more awesome. Hard things are the best teachers.”

I have learned so much from my illness.  It has been one of the best teachers.  More than anything else I have learned to be kind…to love myself wholly, to not judge my circumstances, to give myself credit for always trying my best, and to accept that hard things come, whether or not we ask for them.

Cheers.  The love in me toasts to the love in me.

Me and Jen with some kids we loved.

Me on the Indian Reservation.

The therapist I continued to see on my mission after I got out of the hospital,

Dr. Lynn Workman Nodland, me and Jen.

So I just finished my book forward. A bit long, but thought I’d share it here.

I was diagnosed with schizophrenia when I was seventeen. The psychiatrist told my parents I wouldn’t make it in college and to keep me at home. They were in the middle of an ugly divorce when college time came, and I took off from California to attend Brigham Young University in Utah anyway. I left my medication at home, and did pretty well the first three years.

My junior year, when I was twenty one, I went on a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. While living on an Indian Reservation, some Indian children created a ritual to adopt me into their tribe. Their ceremony included a mysterious tea. Soon after the ceremony, I ended up in a mental hospital. I later attempted to retrieve my records from this hospital, but was informed that the hospital had burned down. I do not know what diagnosis I received there.

In my early thirties, after the birth of my second child, I suffered from severe post partum depression. After seeing a psychiatrist, I was put on antidepressants. These medications sent me into a manic episode, which required a second hospitalization, and follow up medication for a while after that.

I had been fairly stable for ten years with little need for medication, when in my early 40’s I started having several health issues related to peri-menopause and hormonal problems (migraines, extremely heavy periods, hair loss, fatigue.) I was put on a hormonal regime, which included estrogen and testosterone. These appeared to be causing manic symptoms and I was hospitalized a third time.

While in the hospital, my husband told my boss at work that I was diagnosed with bi-polar disorder. With the hospitalization, the sharing of my diagnosis, the hormonal issues I was struggling with and the exhaustion from the mania, I was falling into a deep depression. This book was written during that time. I was desperately grasping for any spiritual beliefs I hoped were true, any psychological interventions I’d come across in my career as a therapist, and any metaphors or reframes I could use to make me feel better. And what I came up with…actually helped me.

Throughout my life I have been on and off medication. I work with a psychiatrist to keep me feeling well, but do not need to be on medications on a daily basis. I collaborate with my family, my psychiatrist, holistic practitioners and my many inner selves to function at the highest level that I can. My needs change from time to time…when I travel, when I am under certain amounts of stress…or sometimes just because.

I have learned to be grateful for this problem of mine. It is a double-edged sword. Having struggled with mental health issues throughout my life makes me a talented and empathetic therapist. It is a weakness, that, through the help of others, I have learned to turn into a strength.

I left this book alone for a year after it was written, and when I went to pick it up again I was in a different space. I cringed at some of the writing, and wanted to change it to make it much more “professional”. Ultimately, however, with the encouragement of my husband, I decided to leave it as is. It feels more truthful that way.

I feel my purpose here on earth is to help people learn that you can have a mental illness, and still be emotionally well and live a profoundly happy life. It’s not easy. Life can be hard. It is full of bittersweetness. But bittersweet is the best kind of chocolate. I hope you can enjoy my story and glean a little something from what I have learned, regardless of your mental or emotional state.

I’d like to thank my family…my brothers, my husband, and my children. For inspiring me to stay healthy, and for pointing out when I am on roads that are not leading me in that direction. I am blessed with the best of family and friends.  I want to thank the therapist I saw when I first got hospitalized over 20 years ago, Dr. Lynn Nodland, who saw me simply as a person, not as a seriously mentally ill person.  I’d like to thank all the other great treatment providers I’ve worked with ever since, both as a consumer of mental health services, and as a provider of them.  I’d also like to thank all my spiritual guides, Gods and Goddesses who broke me out of the Tower and brought me back to the kingdom.

This book is dedicated to my Mom, one of the damnedest dames I know.

Lots of love,

Karalee