Tuesday, August 28, 2007


I'm not one of those people that are so good at asking for help. Really good at pretending that I'm on top of my game and everything is nonchalant and peachy keen. Until I just can't anymore. This has been a longtime coming. I was complaining to my Sallee recently (that was a mix between Sallee and my roommate Sallee, but I liked my Sallee so I left it, k Sallee?) about being exhausted all the time and not being able to do simple things like keep my little room semi clean. She pointed out that I may still be recovering. From what you ask (because I did)? Well from my life since May. It's been high stress. A car accident that left me in lots of pain and temporarily disabled (couldn't do simple things like vacuum) for months. I then moved, had a little bit of a falling out with my roommate of 2 and a half years (which I still am concerned about, but don't know what I can do to change things). Moved. Started a new demanding job. Photo stuff has been crazy on top of that. Car accident and disablement and missing work lead to Sarah's finances being in shambles. Had to find a new home for my dear little kitty. Which almost ended up being the humane society. Until someone decided to adopt her, and then couldn't, humane society again, dear friends are foster parenting her now, and then she wasn't adjusting well, which left me constantly stressed (this all affected me out way more than it should of...I love my cat). New used car after almost 2 months, threw a rod, engine is not worth replacing, no car again. New ward, new job, new car, and then not, new wonderful people that I live with, new house that is now being sold so we have to find new residence, new everything. Don't get me wrong, it's not all bad. I love my house mates something fierce. And they have been needlessly patient with me in all my craziness. I've been a flake, making promises I can't keep, all for the sake of keeping up appearances. And I hate that.

This past weekend, the culmination of it all overwhelmed me. I slept most of Saturday, and when my Sallee asked me (as I emerged at 7pm) if I wanted to accompany her and some friends for some social event, I started crying for no reason. I talked to my mother yesterday and finally expressed some of this. She gave me the lecture that I expected and needed. About taking care of myself and taking my meds consistently. And possibly getting them upped for a bit (it's a really low dose). Because, umm, constant fatigue, lack of motivation, excessive sleeping, persistent anxiety.....all signs of depression. Accompanying this lack of motivation and depression has come a decrease in my spiritual wellness. I have neglected that big time. Kinda going through the motions so to speak. Which doesn't help at all.

I'm okay, actually do better when I recognize what's ailing me. Because I can make strides in a positive direction (including seeing the doctor and possibly a counselor so I won't continue to let this stuff overwhelm me). But can I just bear testimony for a second of my fabulous roommates (I only was at BYU for a semester and never had the opportunity to). I know that they are true. And such wonderfully compassionate people. When I get like this, I have a difficult time balancing myself and being there for others like I would like to, and I lament that. They complete me. As does my family and some other new found friends. They mean more to me at this juncture in my life than I could ever express.

I think I kinda thrive on being needed sometimes, so it's good for me to realize how much I need others. Humbling even.


Mikie said...

I can relate. I have a real aversion to asking for help... I like to think there's nothing I can't take care of between me and the Lord-- but often fail to recognize that the way the Lord helps me out is through other people and that I have to be humble enough to ask...

I'm grateful for those times of needing help, though. They eventually bring me closer to God as I struggle and plead for help / guidance.

But yes... what I really wanted to say is just that I appreciate your authenticity. There's power in being authentic, and like you said-- recognizing what's going on gives you the ability to take steps to correct it. You are refreshingly authentic with your writing. Something I need to be better at.

ThomCarter said...

My dear friend (who is actually a stranger, but whatever).

I want you to know that I empathise with what you are going through. I know to well the feeling of just wanting to cry because that is the only thing that feels right.

You are truly blessed to have a good family and good friends in your life.

Take your time and then . . . follow the ThomCarter rules.

christina said...

love you, bear.

Sarita said...

Thanks. Thanks. And Thanks. Love you Nina. Sometimes I am too authentic. There are things that people really don't need to know. Ahh well, whatcha gonna do? I'm just not really a private person. And yet I'm really good at pretending that I'm okay. It's ironic. I know.

Sneakers said...

Pretending you're okay when you're clearly not inevitably makes it worse.

stace said...

poor, beautiful Sarah. If it is any consolation, we all have times like these in life and they S-U-C-K.

Britten said...

Yep, been there, done that. You have post-traumatic stress/depression. You'll come out of it.

And don't ever be afaid of being too authentic. It is truly refreshing and makes us all feel better for being able to relate and okay to be human.