Giving Ourselves Some Grace

As someone with anxiety and depression, I know how difficult it is to cope with quarantine; it’s a drastic shift from attending school daily and seeing friends to a life of monotony cooped up in the home. Not only that, but the fear of disease and the unknowns about the future can be crippling, paralyzing even, during these difficult times. Due to the lack of stimuli in comparison to what I’m accustomed to during the school year, it has been easy for my mind to wander places better left hidden in the past. One matter in particular that I’ve revisited is past mistakes and behavior and in doing so, I’ve uncovered newfound criticisms of myself that only lead to trouble.

I’m not going to lie – it can be incredibly tempting to wallow in this pain and shame for my past actions and decisions. However, a memory came to mind to combat these dark thoughts that I think could be a great comfort and important message to many.

A few months ago, I was shredding papers and organizing documents at my father’s workplace when I took a break to converse with my aunt, who also works there. I was telling her about my fear of never being good enough or of always making mistakes when she said something that has stuck with me ever since – “You give grace to others when they mess up, right? So, it’s time you give some grace to yourself, allow yourself to make mistakes and learn from it, but don’t dwell on it forever.”

I reminded myself of this today, actually, upon the realization that I was beating myself up over an error I’ve recently made. I’ve had to realize that it’s a part of the human condition that we blunder and falter in our steps – it’s an undeniable part of life. However, another part of the human condition is living on after we err and changing our ways in accordance with what we’ve learned from our mistakes. After all, that’s why God gave us the atonement. He wants us to progress, rather than remain grounded in the past, and live with Him someday as perfected beings. Pain is all a part of the journey and once we repent and reconcile with Him, we can be truly happy. Our mistakes don’t define us, only what we choose to do after the fact does.

The lesson to learn in all of this is, of course, to offer ourselves some grace. We shouldn’t condemn ourselves to live miserably forever, all because of one misstep. Rather, we should seek true happiness and forgiveness in Christ, as He can bring us peace even in the deepest internal and external turmoil.

Quarantine Activities

With the whole COVID-19 pandemic, many of us are confined to our homes and can only go out for groceries and medication at the pharmacy, myself included. This isolation and social distancing can be particularly difficult and even damaging for those with anxiety, depression, and other mental illnesses, as it has been for me and I’m sure for many others as well. However, there are always tasks to keep busy and I’ve found that there are a few key activities that have helped me through this difficult time. So, I thought that I would list a few options that’ll keep your heart happy and your mind occupied in these precarious times.

1. Exercise! Though you may feel unmotivated or lazy, it’s important to keep your body working and healthy. I especially enjoy taking a walk around the neighborhood or taking a hike in nature. You can even work out in the comfort of your own home. I personally enjoy following along Blogilates workouts on YouTube to tone specific parts of my body.

2. Reading! One recommendation that I have is downloading the Audible app and buying a few good books to listen to. On that note, you may also like to listen to some podcasts that interest you. For example, I really enjoy the podcast Swindled and another called Crime Junkie on Spotify.

3. Arts and Crafts! Even if you’re not the most gifted artist, it can be an incredible tool for stress relief to simply color, draw, or paint. Perhaps you can buy an adult coloring book online or even a few canvases to paint at home. It also gives you a sense of accomplishment, as you’re able to actually put your energy and creativity into something worthwhile that you can keep and cherish.

4. Take a drive! Although you may not be able to go shopping or go out to eat like you used to, you can still take a drive around town or even beyond that to clear your mind, go sightseeing, listen to music and sing along, whatever you like. I especially enjoy this because it’s a way to get out of the house without exposing yourself to germs and really going anywhere specific.

5. Clean the House! Yes, I know, this suggestion might seem a bit dull, but I promise you that it’s worthwhile. Even if you just organize your room, it can be an excellent tool for stress relief and happiness. I recently cleaned my room and organized my shelves and it gave me a great boost of self confidence and contentedness.

6. Videochat with Friends! You may not be able to spend time with friends in person, but it’s always good to connect with them in other ways, even if it’s just through text. Otherwise, though, I would suggest setting up a videochat, whether it be through social media like Snapchat or Instagram, FaceTime, Google Hangout, Zoom, Skype, etc. And, if all else fails, you can simply call friends on the phone. It’s important to stay in touch with friends and family in these difficult times, as isolation can severely impact mental health in the worst way possible. I know from personal experience that making contact with friends virtually, even for a few minutes, means the world and will greatly improve the mood of everyone involved.

7. Journal! If you feel like you can’t talk to anybody else about your struggles, you can always jot down your thoughts and feelings on paper or even type it out in the Notes section of your phone. It’s not healthy to keep all your emotions bottled up, especially during stressful events like this. Remember your worth and that you’re not alone.

8. Find a New Show to Watch! If you love Netflix like me, you’ll go through show series in the blink of the eye. If you’re in the mood for a lazy day or just want to chill, some Netflix series I suggest are: Élite, Queen of the South, Criminal Minds, Forensic Files, You, Cable Girls, Money Heist, Ingobernable, Sin Senos Sí Hay Paraíso, and Narcos. As you can see, I have a penchant for many shows in Spanish haha.

9. Take a Nap! If you’re feeling a bit drained by all the commotion in the world right now, it’s okay. I feel the same way. You can always rest your body and soul by taking a nap, but careful – not too long, as it can disrupt your sleep at night and mess up your day. A 30 minute or hour nap, though, can be very refreshing and I encourage it.

10. Learn a New Skill! With school out of session thanks to the virus, I have much more time on my hands than before. If you’re bored out of your mind and need an activity to keep you happy and active, you can always develop a new talent. This may include learning to do your makeup or perfecting your makeup skills, learning a new language (which is what I’m planning on doing), learning to knit or sew, learning to cook, writing poetry or a short novel, learning to do yoga and stretch, do breathing techniques, etc. There’s a world of skills to learn and these are just a few suggestions, but hopefully it helps!

Hopefully this list helps! Remember to stay warm, eat well, keep in touch with loved ones, and play with pets if you have them! If you are struggling with depression, anxiety, an eating disorder, addiction, whatever it may be – try to remain positive in these trying times and remember that you are worth so much. Love you all! Never be afraid to reach out if you need help.

xoxo,

Madison

My Story: Part Three

After a rather traumatic freshman year, I was determined to cultivate my talents and focus on enhancing my academic abilities throughout my sophomore year of high school. I built several new friendships during the school year and maintained good connections with peers who had supported me during the fiasco with Damien. However, my relationship with God faltered due to my insecurities that stemmed from my experience with sexual assault. These insecurities consumed me and ravaged my brain, a perpetual flurry of questions that I could never answer: Was I worth more than my body? Could I be loved more than just in a physical sense? Most pressing of all was the question of whether I could trust the people around me anymore. How could I possibly know someone’s intentions with me? Nevertheless, I tried to give everybody the benefit of the doubt. After all, the backlash that followed my experience with Damien taught me how destructive it is to be critical of others.

Going into second semester of my sophomore year, I was sure that I would end the school year on a pleasant note. In the spring of sophomore year, a good friend of mine introduced me to a boy that she had liked at one time– I’m going to call him Martin in order to preserve his anonymity. Martin was quite charming and handsome; consequently, he had a long history of past girlfriends and flings. Despite these rumors, I was kind to him and hoped that we could become friends. After he made some sexual advances on me, though, I ended my communications with him, both online and in person.

The next time we ran into each other was after school on April 12th. I was walking to the tennis courts to meet my best friends, as I had just used the restroom. He stopped me and we talked; soon enough, though, he began to kiss me roughly and pulled my pants down. I was pressed against a shipping crate, with my back towards him, and he raped me. After saying “no” several times, he put his hand over my mouth and assured me that he was almost done. Martin then argued with me and threatened that if I told the authorities, he would know and he would be upset, as it would ruin his senior year of high school.

Both the school and the police did an investigation into the matter. However, my mother and I were upset with the lack of serious consequences for him, as we knew that it was not justice for the pain that he had caused me. Despite this, I firmly believe that even this made me much stronger as a person and contributed to my growth. 

The aftermath and recovery following rape is a harrowing journey. I experienced panic attacks often; I couldn’t even watch television programs that included themes of sexual assault, as it would cause me to break out in hysterics. Martin haunted my thoughts and I had nightmares about him so frequently that I began taking medication to prevent such nightmares from popping up. The pain was further compounded by the taunts and threats that I received from my peers at school. As a result, I often lashed out at people who had no intention to harm me. If it weren’t for the comfort of my church leaders and parents, I doubt that I would have made it through those first six months after being raped. Of course, I must also thank the Lord for the peace that he brought me during those times. Now that it has been a little bit over a year since I was raped, I have learned that there are so many women around me that I can help heal and comfort by sharing my story with them. Because of the trauma I endured, I have been molded into a stronger person and a woman of courage; I hope that with these experiences, I can leave behind a legacy of kindness and comfort with other survivors of sexual assault and abuse. These things should not be something we are ashamed of or that we stay silent about– it is imperative that we speak up and come together to bring this violence and depravity to an end.

The Book of Mormon

Through my journey in expanding my testimony and learning more about the gospel, I have found that one of the crucial ways in which I can draw nearer to Christ is through the scriptures. Consequently, it is of the utmost importance to read the Book of Mormon and ponder on the principles within this holy book of scriptures in my own life. Although some people doubt the legitimacy of the Book of Mormon, it is one of the most influential works of literature in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints; the book accounts for Jesus’ resurrection and describes His time spent in the Americas after He rose from the dead; in short, it is another testament of the power and good works of God, an addition to the truths found in the Bible. I have always believed the Book of Mormon to be true, but it was not until I read the Spanish version that I developed a deep appreciation for my religion.

This past Christmas, my mother gave me three version of the Book of Mormon: Spanish, Arabic, and Dutch. I love learning languages, so I was eager to begin my journey in reading the scriptures in a language other than English. I decided to start with Spanish, and how thankful I am that I did! Despite being the same account of Christ as the English translation, I gained a newfound appreciation for the gospel. Not only that, but I have come closer to God than I ever was before. It is a great thing to have Christ in my life. After my experiences with sexual assault and mental illness, I have this persistent yearning in my heart for comfort and support; the Book of Mormon provides just what I need and allows me to feel the Holy Spirit when I feel lost. We all feel downtrodden and utterly alone at some point in our lives–that is why we can talk to Christ through prayer and feel His love through scriptures. He knows that we can endure the pain, whether it be physical, mental , or spiritual harm that we are experiencing. One of the things that encourages me to keep going is the scripture Mosiah 26:21 in the Book of Mormon, in which He says: Y el que quiera oir mi voz sera mi oveja; y lo recibiras en la iglesia, y yo tambien lo recibire.” In other words, “And he that will hear my voice will be my sheep; and him shall ye receive into the church, and him will I also receive.” It is crucial to remember that no matter how you have sinned, God will always love you and is always there to embrace you and help you when you need Him most. That is probably the most important lesson that I have learned from reading the Book of Mormon.

My Story: Part Two

Throughout the majority of the first semester of my freshman year, I flourished both socially and academically. I also played tennis on the junior varsity team at my high school and thoroughly enjoyed playing the sport; it was an outlet for any frustrations or anger that I held. Not only that, but it kept me active and prevented me from slipping into a severe bout of depression. I became very close with several girls on the team as well, a few of which I still keep in touch with to this day. In the classroom, I performed exceptionally well on exams and still managed to maintain a social life. In my biology class, I became well-acquainted with this one boy in particular. In order to maintain his anonymity, I will call him Damien. Damien often asked me to help him with his assignments in class and over time, he got into a habit of walking me to my second period class. He often put his arm around me, intentionally brushed his hand against my behind, and made crude sexual remarks that I was too afraid to counter. In my mind, the best way to handle the situation was to ignore the unwanted vulgarity; surely he would stop. At the time, I thought nothing of it. I was sure that it would end there.

On December 8th of my freshman year, a funeral was held for my great-grandmother. I opted to attend school instead, as I worried that I would miss too many important assignments if I were to be absent. After first period, Damien walked alongside me as I made my way to my second period class, per usual. As we neared the classroom, he wrapped his arm tightly around me and slipped his hand into my shirt and beneath my bra. I remained silent in order to deflect from my embarrassment. Damien told me not to enter my classroom just yet–he claimed to have something important to tell me. To my own detriment, I listened and waited for him to make his demands clear. I vividly recall the shrill ring of the tardy bell in perfect unison with the rough lips of Damien pressed against my skin and his hands down my pants. I pulled away. He pulled me back in his arms with an aggressive insistence that I had never recognized in him before. Before I knew it, he was walking away. He didn’t even look back.

I walked into class and the teacher asked why I was late. All I could do was shake my head. Immediately, she recognized that something had happened, and I confided in her concerning the matter in a private corner of the room. Breaking down into tears, I collapsed in her arms and she eventually coaxed me into revealing the name of the boy who did this to me. An investigation into the occurrence ensued on the part of the school. When Damien was sent to juvenile detention, I was immediately targeted by other freshmen who upheld his “innocence”. Many adults at my high school seemed apathetic to my cause, as though I had concocted the story out of thin air. With the exception of the support and affection of my parents, I felt completely and utterly alone. Even my closest friends seemed to be of no help; after all, they had never experienced something of this nature and had no way to truly understand my situation. However, if there is one thing that I can be grateful for, it is that this trial strengthened my relationship with God like I have never experienced before.

My family and I are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints; even so, prior to this experience with sexual assault I had never felt particularly close to God. Even in the first few months following the assault, I was entangled in unhealthy methods of coping that left me apathetic and lacking any desire to live, one of such methods being a short stint with drug abuse. Eventually, though, I realized what a great blessing it is to have God to turn to. Not only did I know of Him, I truly came to know Him at that point in my life. I attribute all my strength in those trying and dark times to God. Through Him, I managed to survive the pain of being so thoroughly violated. In May of my freshman year, I went to court and saw Damien for the first time since he had assaulted me. Fortunately, I got through my victim impact statement before breaking down in my mother’s lap. He was sentenced to a year of community service, individual and family therapy, and was prohibited from contacting me either directly or indirectly. He was also ordered to pay monthly reparations for the trauma that he put me through. As we exited the building with our families, both he and I cried.

Damien burdened me with extensive emotional scarring and prematurely deprived me of my innocence, yet it is an experience that I would never take back, even if I could. It strengthened my faith in God and made me more aware of my knack for writing. In fact, in the spring of my sophomore year I won second place in a prestigious poetry competition that was centered around bringing awareness to the plight of survivors of sexual assault. I have learned that the path of forgiveness and recovery is not linear; it falters, plateaus, and only over a gradual period of time does healing occur.

My Story: Part One

When I was little, I vividly remember the commercials on the television that proposed a variety of medications that claimed to ease anxiety and dull the effects of depression on everyday life. At that time, I wondered how anybody could possibly be so glum to the point of suicide. It seemed to be a foreign, faraway concept that couldn’t possibly encroach its way into my life.

How wrong I was– by the time I was in the seventh grade, I became acutely aware of a sadness and pervasive anxiety that weighed on my chest and tinted my perception of reality with grays and blacks. I was filled with a deep sense of guilt and shame at the mere suggestion of depression or anxiety; I told myself it was merely a gimmick that I would surely grow out of over time, as I had no justifiable reason to feel such desolation. After all, I contended, I was blessed enough to enjoy the benefits of the typical middle class lifestyle and I had a supportive family that loved me deeply. For this reason, I waited it out with the hope in my heart that the feelings of sadness and the anxiety that constantly pestered me would fade away.

Unfortunately, that time never came. A few months passed by me and when I realized that the despair had settled in for the long haul, I confessed my troubles to my parents. My mother set up an appointment with a local psychiatrist; after discussing several options with the psychiatrist, I was prescribed a plethora of medications and advised to go to therapy. Eager to escape from my dilemma, I did just as I was told and for a time, I felt as though things were looking up. It certainly did not last long, though– my freshman year of high school began and my well-being declined at a lightning fast pace. I was at the brink of suicide, wavering unsteadily between the choice of life or death, and I had devised several methods of ending my life. As a result, I was placed on a seventy-two hour hold in the adolescent unit of the psychiatric ward at a nearby hospital. Unlike the majority of the teens there, I enjoyed my stay. The staff members were kind yet firm and by the time I left, I was equipped with a substantial set of coping skills. It truly was a reprieve from the cruelty in the world outside the hospital doors. After hours of combing through my background and questioning from mental health professionals, I was given a diagnosis of major depressive disorder and anxiety, with the possibility of bipolar disorder. Five days after being admitted to the hospital, I returned home to my loving parents and siblings, with hope in my chest that the future was bright and all would be okay from then on.

My Purpose

Thanks for joining me! My name is Madison and I am currently a high school student in California. As a survivor of sexual assault and mental illness, I am an avid advocate for the recovery of all of those struggling with similar issues. I hope that by sharing my experiences, I can inspire people to speak up for themselves. Not only that, but I strive to give comfort to anybody that is having difficulty coping with any tribulation in life. It is imperative that each one of us is the change we want to see in society, from breaking down the stigma surrounding mental illness to speaking up in cases of assault, abuse, and rape. Finally, I believe that my faith in God and journey with religion will be a great motivating factor in creating a positive environment that people across the globe can feel connected to and hopefully spread that kindness and compassion in the real world. After all that I have experienced, I have realized that a blog is just what I needed during the most trying times in my life–it is a place to find safety, solace, and love in, and I hope that my blog will provide that same comfort for all you.

xoxo,

Madison