What is the Purpose?

I have been thinking so much lately about this blog. I wrote religiously during my treatment and updated everyone on the stats and appointments, my health, and my potential future. Then, when treatments were done, I just kind of quit. I got in a car accident, I went back to work, and I found myself depressed, lonely, anxious, and overwhelmed. Ever since then, I've only posted every few weeks or months, and I'm never quite sure what to say. I feel an obligation both to myself and to others to continue writing, but I also feel as though I want to "go back" to my private life where very few individuals know what is actually going on. 

I recently read an article about miscarriage and announcing pregnancies early on vs. later. The author made the argument that if we share a pregnancy early on, if we lose the baby, we will have more people to lean on and provide us with support and love. She also discussed sharing a pregnancy early on so that we might have more advice to help us through the early weeks and months, when morning sickness rears its ugly head and, particularly in a first pregnancy, you are searching for any and every possible way to ease the nausea. She touched on the idea that when a woman loses a baby through miscarriage or stillbirth, all of a sudden other women who have experienced a similar situation come out of the wood works to share their story and provide comfort. 

Tonight I watched a video about depression and suicide. Last Fall, after my car accident, I "fell into a depression", as they say. Suddenly, I realized that for almost an entire year, I poisoned myself with chemicals and radiation to fight a disease in my body that very well could have killed me. It was only by a prompting from the Spirit that I went to the doctor last October or so for a check-up, as I had no tell-tale lymphoma symptoms. Sure, my prognosis was good, but the reality of it was (and is) that the cancer or the chemo or the side-effects could have had the complete opposite effect and, realistically, I could have died. 

I experienced anxiety for the first time in my life. I couldn't go to Walmart for longer than about seven minutes before I would start getting blurred vision and breathing heavily. I literally couldn't go into that store. One day, I had an anxiety attack in the early morning hours that was so massive I thought I was having a heart attack, at 28 years old (it was the weekend of General Conference). 

I began taking medicine for the anxiety and seeing a counselor for a plethora of reasons. I asked for and received multiple priesthood blessings and many family and friends prayed for me. I started to get better. 

At times, I would completely fall to pieces. Some days I would choose not to take my anti-anxiety/depression medicine so I could feel anxious, depressed, and alone. That would throw me off for days. Other days, I felt so strong I was sure I could do anything and help everyone. Those are probably the days I blogged - or starting blogging. :) 

Eventually, I "graduated" from counseling and chose to discontinue the anxiety medicine. (And I can now go to Walmart if I must. I hate it, but I can breathe.) :)

I meditated and talked with friends to help. I focused my energy on other friends and my family and helping them with their needs. I prayed to have strength and to keep going every day. 

But sometimes, I still have really crappy days where I feel alone. I have found that mental illness, like miscarriage, is a hush-hush topic more often than it is not. When you finally work up the strength to tell someone you are struggling with your own mental health, you learn more about them. You gain strength to tell others and, just like with miscarriage, people come out of hiding to share their experiences. You are no longer alone in your confusing and confused life. 

These two scenarios/topics got me thinking more about my blog, and as I have read and watched things about them in the last few days, I have pondered about what my new purpose for it is. This used to be a place to update friends and family on the progress of my treatments and my "road to recovery", but what now? And then it hit me. 

I want to be accessible to others. I don't want to shove my story down anyone's throat, but I want to exist and be here, in case they want to know they aren't alone. I don't know that I would announce a pregnancy early on, but I have already announced many other things here on this blog and I want to continue to do so. I want to be a place that even just one person might go and find comfort in the fact that they aren't alone, that I have been there, and that (hopefully) I can help in some way. 

I have toyed with the idea of writing blog posts for a secondary (albeit small) income. I have thought about "pushing" my blog around in more spheres to bring attention and "publicity" back to it. I have considered changing the name and even the viewpoint from which I write. So many ideas have been running through my mind the past several weeks. Tonight, this idea popped in my head and I knew I had to write it down before I forgot. {And thus we have a bunch of iPhone typos.}

And so, my goal is to be here. To share my experiences - the good, the bad, the ugly, stinky and awful realities, and the wonderful, uplifting, and real truths in my life. Tonight, I hope this has helped one person beyond myself. Writing is therapeutic, but reading can be too. Share this with anyone you would like. Let's help people know that they are loved, thought about, and absolutely never alone.