Chasing Perfect.

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Perfectionism.

It’s a daily struggle.
I find myself in pure bliss when every single thing has been checked off my to-do list.
The house is clean.
Kids bathed.
Appointments scheduled.
Dog fed/bathed.
Laundry done & put away.
Workout done.
Prayer time done.
Homework done.

The problem is, I’m either too exhausted by the end of that list to enjoy it or, it rarely happens. Which totally leaves me in a dangerous place of hanging my happiness on whether or not my list is complete.

In my (therapizing) myself, (What the hubs says I do to him) I have figured out that the to -do list makes me feel safe and in control.

While on those “magical days” I feel perfectly content, on those other days when all of the things don’t get done, I feel out of control.

Satan begins restructure my self-esteem in a way that tells me I am only as good as the things I have completed or produced. While there are many many issues with perfectionism, I think the most dangerous part is that it gives Satan a little bit of room to wiggle our lives.

If he can’t control my behavior, my mind is the next best thing. It’s not likely that you’ll find me shoplifting or engaging in another unlawful act. But, on any given day, you may find my mind in places it shouldn’t be.

If I haven’t checked my list off, if I haven’t made it to the gym, if I ate something I shouldn’t have, if I slept in instead of reading my Bible, if I yelled at my kids, if I didn’t really listen when my husband told me about his day, if I wasn’t patient with my two-year old, then I am a failure.

I’m not as good as my neighbor across the street who spends her days playing with her kids instead of doing homework and cleaning.

I’m not as good as the single- mom who spends all of her free time volunteering at church.

I’m not as good as the other grad student who has practiced her skills three times each week.

Or, as good as the girl who got a 98% on her midterm instead of my measly 95%. It must mean I am not meant to be a counselor. Who would want to come to a counselor who got a 95% on their midterm? Certainly not me.  (Kidding. I am making a point about how DUMB my thoughts are).

…you do it too. You just may not be willing to admit it. But behind that screen, you’ve wondered why you’re not as…(whatever) as the person you’re looking at on social media.

If our self-image comes from a comparison with someone else or a comparison with the perfect version of ourselves we believe we should be, we will never ever be good enough. Hear that. We will never be good enough. The instrument we use to measure ourselves will always be changing.

If I want to lose weight…I do…but then I’m not thin enough.
If I want to make more money, I do, but then it’s not enough.
If I want to be a better parent, I am, but not as good as the mom across the street.

There’s always going to be someone who is smarter, prettier, thinner, more fit, funnier, wittier, richer, more acclaimed, more well-known, etc. It is a pointless race that keeps our mind on things that don’t matter.

Well, not that they don’t matter, but comparing ourselves to someone else is a futile endeavor. It gets us nowhere but frustrated.

Some weeks, I get up at 5am and read my Bible for an hour and pray for 30 minutes. Then, I go to the gym. Other weeks, I don’t make it out of bed at 5 and sometimes I don’t make it to the gym. I bet you can guess how my self-esteem is on the days I don’t do those things.

I wonder if you could guess where my relationship with God is on the days I haven’t gotten up early?

If you guess not close, you’re right.

I feel completely disconnected.
I used to think it was because I was not disciplined enough.
I used to think it was because God required me to give him that devotion every single day for an hour and a half. If I didn’t, it must mean I don’t love God as much as I claim to. The honest truth was that I pulled away from him because I felt that if I didn’t do those things, then I wasn’t worthy of his love.

I’m not worthy of his love.
But he didn’t pull away from me, I pulled away from him because I THOUGHT that he would only want me if I was coming to him every single day for exactly 90 minutes.

Then, one day, the Holy Sprit spoke to me and said, “You’re making our relationship a to-do list. It’s not about what you do or don’t do. It’s about me.”

See how Satan does that?
By setting this ridiculous standard for myself in all areas of my life, he managed to wiggle into my relationship with God. He shifted my eyes from Jesus and to myself.
It stopped being about who He Is and it became who I am.

I let Satan in.
I let him in my mind when I started comparing.

While those things didn’t immediately affect my relationship with God, slowly but surely my perfectionism ended exactly where I never intended.

The point of all of this? Be so very careful what you allow yourself to think. Your thoughts have SO much power. Control your thoughts. Don’t let them control you. While you may not have any control over what thought pops into your mind, you absolutely have the power to decide whether or not you are going to spend any time thinking about it.

“We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought and make it obedient to Christ.” – 2 Corinthians 10:5

DEPRESSION is an ugly word…

What do all of these pictures have in common?

•• D E P R E S S I O N ••

After my first pregnancy. I had depression.

During the end of my last pregnancy and after my last pregnancy, I had depression.

For those of you who don’t know, depression is NOT general sadness. It is not grief. It is not something you can change by the amount of faith you have or something you can “will” yourself out of by optimism.

If it was, I would be the poster child for that particular remedy.

Believe me, no one has more grit and determination than this girl.

It’s is different for everyone.
But for me, the first time, it was crying all of the time.

It was knowing that I should be so happy but all I could do was feel sad and then when I couldn’t feel that anymore, it was emptiness.

Then, during my last pregnancy, it was dark. It was being so overwhelmed at the thought of answering a phone call, getting out of bed, getting dressed, going to work, taking care of my child.

The thought of the next day was almost too much.

After Chloe was born, it was better but still so much emptiness.

It was dark.
It was lonely.
It was overwhelming.
It was guilt at the type of mom I wasn’t being to Landry.

Guilt over not being so happy when all I wanted was a baby.

Then guilt at not being so overjoyed at having the baby girl I always wanted.

It was guilt over not being the wife Trey deserved.

And I did feel happiness. I did feel joy, at times.
I was so thankful for my babies.
I never wanted to harm them or anyone else.
I just wanted to feel like myself again.

Luckily, after Landry, I knew depression.

I knew medication helped me tremendously the first time.

After Chloe, I accepted that this was something I had to fight.

I knew what to do.
I went back to my doctor and I got on medication.

Did I ever want to be on medication?
Nope.
Was it something I resisted and tried to explain away?
Yep.

Could I will myself out of it?
Nope.

Was my life good?
Yep.
Everything I ever dreamed?
Yep.

Did that change it?
Nope.

That last picture, the Golden Gate Bridge, 1600 people have jumped off that bridge to their death.

Because they wanted to escape the pain they felt day in and out.
An overwhelming and inescapable hole.

I was lucky.
I have an amazing support system.
I figured it out early on and know that it’s something I will likely always face.
I found something that works for me. Medication.

It’s an ugly word.
Well…for mental illness it is.
For cancer? Not so much.
Of course you would take medication for cancer, but if you take it for depression, you’re weak.

Nope. I’m strong.
I’m strong because I choose to look my illness head on and say, I see you and I’m fighting you.

I know everyone has their “theories” on antidepressants and therapy.

And guess what?
You’re wrong.
Until you’ve struggled with it, you don’t get a vote.

Anything other than your personal experience isn’t helpful to anyone that does have a mental illness.

It’s harmful.
It stigmatizes.
It makes getting help more difficult.
It makes you look ignorant.

It causes jumping off a bridge seem like an easier option than getting actual help.

When jumping off a bridge seems like a better option than seeking help, you could say that we as a society have failed.

Be kind to others.
Chances are, that person you’re talking to about mental health, may be someone diagnosed.
Or, they might know someone very close to them who is.

There are SO many people who struggle with a mental health illness.

Until we start talking about it and normalizing it, we will continue losing lives to it.

#depression #mentalhealth #stopthestigma