When I was in high school, I don't remember how, but I discovered a percussionist named Evelyn Glennie. I think it may have been through Mrs. Shuster, my percussion instructor, but I really don't remember. Anyways, Evelyn Glennie. She's amazing. Born in Scotland, she became almost completely deaf at the age of 12, but has since become one of the world's best-known percussionist, especially in her use of dynamic range. Like, what? I've read her essay about how she listens to the music using vibrations through her feet and is able to "hear" using all her senses combined, and I think that's incredible. I would absolutely love to spend a day with her learning how I as a musician can listen better. I want to get better and more proficient at my dynamic range, and I think spending time with one of the masters in that field would be amazing.
Sunday, June 11, 2017
Evelyn Glennie
If you could spend a day with any famous person in the world, who would it be, and what would you do during your day with him or her?
Sunday, May 7, 2017
Residency
In how many places have you lived during your lifetime? Provide a brief description of each place you’ve lived, why you lived there, and why you moved.
I've lived in 8 different houses in 4 different places if my memory serves me right. I shall provide a description and pictures, if I can, of all the places I've lived and why.
1 - An apartment in Pleasant Grove, Utah when I was very first born. I don't know how long we lived in those apartments, but it obviously wasn't long enough for me to remember them at all. I know we moved before Cameron was born, possibly a while before.
2 - A little townhouse, still in Pleasant Grove, from around 1997 to 1999. I have a few memories of this house. We had an up and downstairs, which I thought was pretty fantastic. We were also right next to the yard of our complex, which had a swing set and slide. I think we also had a sandbox at this house and eventually a little blow-up pool I got for my 3rd birthday. My birthday party was Anastasia themed, and the only other thing I remember from the party is peeing in my swimsuit because I didn't want to leave the party to go potty.
3 - A 2 bedroom upstairs apartment in Houston, Texas from around 1999 to 2001. We moved from Utah to Houston when Dad was accepted into a Masters program at Texas Women's University. I drove down in our car with my parents and Cameron came later with Grandma Johnson. Our apartment was on the 2nd floor, but I remember our nice neighbor downstairs let us store our bikes by her door so we didn't have to take them up and down the stairs every time. I shared a room with Cameron on the left side of the apartment, Mom and Dad had a room on the right side, and in between the two bedrooms was the tiniest kitchen in the world and a little living room/kitchen area. I remember going swimming all the time, and to get to the pool you had to walk through the laundry room, where there were free cookies. To this day, I taste Albertson's chocolate chip cookies whenever I smell chlorine. This is where I started public school, starting Kindergarten at Parker Elementary. My teacher was Mrs. Cummins, who I am still in contact with. She's in my top 5 favorite teachers ever (excluding college professors, because that makes things too complicated).
4 - After living in Houston, we moved back to Utah. We lived in Grandma Pam and Grandpa Don's basement for a few months, I think. Maybe like 7 months? I don't know the exact time frame. I went to half of first grade at Highland Elementary School, and my class was in a portable outside the normal school building. Cameron and I shared a bedroom at Grandma and Grandpa's, and maybe even a bed. My memories are kind of fuzzy. But I do remember a lot of movie nights on their big couch and Andrew falling down the stairs multiple times. The carpets in the bedrooms were all strange colors, from a bright green to a shag blue. It's an interesting house.
5 - Dad got a Job in January of 2002 in Pasco, WA, and we moved to a little red house on Willamette Ave in Kennewick. I was so excited that we had our own actual house! The backyard had two giant sycamore trees, and we hung a swing from one of the branches. You could spin so fast on it! There were some weird vines too, and big pokey bushes with what we called "poison berries" on them. My room was the first door on the left right when you came in the front door; I'm pretty sure it was supposed to be a sewing room, and the whole south-facing wall was covered with drawers of every size. I put my bed under the window, and Mom painted my room light yellow with pink flowers around the top trim. The hallway was a big circle, and one time Cameron and I got running so fast around it, then I changed directions in an attempt to surprise him... Well, it surprised us both, unfortunately. We rammed right into each other and had identical black eyes for three or four days. I also remember that this house had a fireplace, and one Christmas, Santa left black, ashy footprints from the fireplace to our tree and back. That's when I knew Santa had to be real! Another memory from this house is that we were always playing in the dirt. There was a patch of dirt to the right of the patio, behind the garage, that we would make super muddy and get really dirty in. Andrew was always eating dirt. We also bought our first dog, Pepper, when we lived on Willamette. She was a black lab, and the most spastic dog you will ever meet.
6 - The summer I turned eight, we moved to 8959 W Quinault Ave, still in Kennewick. I was really happy that we got to stay in the same ward, but I was nervous about moving schools, Luckily I had awesome teachers, and Sunset View Elementary was the beginning of my marimba career with Walt Hampton's Rugare Marimba Ensemble.
When we first moved in, I had the tiny bedroom upstairs next to my parent's room. I don't remember much about that room. When Sadie was born and big enough for her own room, I moved to the room right across from the garage downstairs. I was so proud that I was big enough to have a bedroom downstairs! I had an awesome canopy over my bed that made me feel like a princess, and Mom and Dad bought me a new bedframe with gold designs on it. I loved being able to stay up reading without Mom & Dad knowing, hehe. In the spring and summers, Cameron and I would ride our bikes almost every day around the neighborhood, playing cops and robbers. Most of the time we'd ride with Brett Matheson, who would be my best friend all the way through middle school and high school. We'd go to the church parking lot and race each other around the lot and down the stairs.
Later, when I got to middle school, Cameron moved downstairs into my room and I moved into what had previously been known as "Grandma's Room": the guest bedroom at the end of the downstairs hallway. I was so excited! I got to paint the room whatever color I wanted, so I chose brown and teal. My bedspread was an off-white with brown, teal, and green dots, and I was pretty excited to have a queen sized bed all to myself. Even if it was an awful mattress. Later I got my own bookshelf, and then my Junior year I got my own electric keyboard. I also stayed up way too late all the time, but that's a normal teenager thing.
7 - Once I graduated from Kamiakin High School, I moved out to Laie, Hawaii to go to school at BYU-Hawaii! I lived in the oldest dorms possible, Hale 3, room 203D I think. I'll have to double-check the exact number, but it was upstairs to the right. Hale 3 was built in the 60's, I think, around the same time the school was built, and it was so old. Our furniture was all metal, even our beds, and everything smelled like mold. There was no air conditioning, just like 90% of Hawaiian housing, so my first roommate (Rebecca Jacobs) and I had lots of fans. I had a mini fan that I clipped onto my bed right by my face when I slept at night. This served 2 purposes: one, it kept me cool; two, it kept the mosquitos off of my face. Rebecca was nice enough to give me the bed right by the window, which was nice when it was raining or breezy. Not so nice when the weedwhackers started up at 7 AM right outside my window. Looking back, I should have been up and getting ready for class anyways. But instead, I tried to hide under the super cute bedspread my mom had found for me. It was white with green and light blue designs, and I had a green and white polka-dot sheet. I was so sad to leave them behind when we moved.
The hale (Hawaiian for "house") had a courtyard in the middle, where there were a bunch of picnic tables and palm trees. Sometimes I would take my homework outside, but it was also very sunny and I am very white. Other times I'd go in the sitting rooms, which had very out-of-tune pianos. There was also a TV room in the front lobby with bug-infested couches, which should tell you how often I sat and watched TV.
The bathrooms in Hale 3 were communal, which meant they were disgusting. There was always long, black hair in the showers (from lots of Polynesians and Asians), cockroaches in the garbages, and with that many girls sharing a bathroom, there was always a gross scent of feminine products.
All the gross things considered, it was kind of fun to be stuck in this crazy housing with girls all my same age, all of us going through the same things. Sure, we made fun of the "rich Utah girls" in the nicer, newer housing across the street, and we secretly envied them, but we were happy because we were all together.
My next housing was in Hale 2, but it was only for one semester. My room in Hale 2 was way more spacious, with built-in closets and drawers, and a real bed with a night stand. I was downstairs this time, with the window bed again. Outside the window were lots of beautiful tropical flowers, including Birds of Paradise. One early morning around 5:30 AM, I woke to the sounds of someone cutting flowers outside my window. When I finally got the courage to look outside, some random lady was walking away with a bunch of flowers and clippings from the Hale's bushes. I probably should have reported her for stealing, she had a florists van. It was really weird.
8 - In 2014, I moved with a crazy person into TVA Q205. It was a one-bedroom apartment, but the only doors were the front door and the bathroom door. No bedroom door, no separation between kitchen and hallways. I thought it was strange. We had a full-sized bed, a couch, table and chairs, and a desk that was more annoying than helpful. I tried to spruce up the boring white walls with a canvas of the Hawaii temple my mom got me for Christmas, along with some other frames. The side of the fridge had been sprayed with what looked like hot cooking oil, and it took a lot of scrubbing to get it clean. Our bathroom was always infested with ants or termites, which freaked me out, and I also found a 7-inch cane spider in there once. Yikes.
I don't have too much to say about the apartment, but I loved our neighbors. To the right were the Hardisty's, who were always so nice and would watch Jasmine for me sometimes. They were both surfer-type people, always out and exploring. To the left, at first, was the Coronado's. She was Indian and he was Latino, which I always thought was an interesting pairing. They were nice too, but a little more reserved in person. Sometimes, though, they would stay up until 1 AM watching Jimmy Fallon videos at full volume and laughing their heads off. It drove me crazy. After they moved, Sean and Mary moved in. I loved them so much! One General Conference, I made over 300 cinnamon rolls but forgot to plan on only having one oven. They let me use their oven until 3 AM. That's just nutso, right? I still talk to Mary occasionally. They have a little girl who is adorable. Sometimes, since our whole apartment building made up half of the ward, we would do spontaneous potlucks in the center courtyards. Everyone would bring their own plate and utensils, along with a dish to share. It was so much fun to just be with all our friends and neighbors. I miss them all so much.
When Jasmine was born, I found a changing table and a crib that I made fit into our bedroom. I also found a rocking chair, which I loved so much! It was so fun to have baby furniture, and I was so sad again to leave it all behind.
9 - After living in TVA, we moved back in with my parents, which is where we are now! I have the room I had before, but now with new carpet, new bedspread and new paint. I also bought myself a cool mirror and clock, and I repainted my bookshelf blue and the nightstand white.
Jasmine slept in the laundry room while she was still small enough for a crib, and when Cameron was here for 6 weeks between college and mission, Jasmine moved into my room in a toddler bed. I honestly miss having her in the same room with me sometimes. Now she has Cameron's old room, which we've completely redone! I painted 3 of the walls a light green, and the other wall purple with a white, sparkly tree mural. Whenever Jasmine has friends come in her room, she says, "Look! It's my tree!" It makes me so happy that she loves her tree, especially considering how long it took me. I worked on it for over a month. I also painted her bed white and repainted some shelves Cameron had. I still need to put them up, but they're finally painted. I'm still looking for what to put on her big empty wall, but we found super cute purple curtains with tiny white polka dots. Her bedspread is white, green, pink and purple, with butterflies and flowers all over. I also painted a bamboo dish rack purple and put a bunch of her board books in it like a tiny book basket. It has been so much fun to decorate a room for her! I never got to do a nursery when she was first born.
Eventually I will start saving up money and buy my own house, but right now Jasmine and I love living with my family! There are honestly some days I never want to ever leave!
4 - After living in Houston, we moved back to Utah. We lived in Grandma Pam and Grandpa Don's basement for a few months, I think. Maybe like 7 months? I don't know the exact time frame. I went to half of first grade at Highland Elementary School, and my class was in a portable outside the normal school building. Cameron and I shared a bedroom at Grandma and Grandpa's, and maybe even a bed. My memories are kind of fuzzy. But I do remember a lot of movie nights on their big couch and Andrew falling down the stairs multiple times. The carpets in the bedrooms were all strange colors, from a bright green to a shag blue. It's an interesting house.
5 - Dad got a Job in January of 2002 in Pasco, WA, and we moved to a little red house on Willamette Ave in Kennewick. I was so excited that we had our own actual house! The backyard had two giant sycamore trees, and we hung a swing from one of the branches. You could spin so fast on it! There were some weird vines too, and big pokey bushes with what we called "poison berries" on them. My room was the first door on the left right when you came in the front door; I'm pretty sure it was supposed to be a sewing room, and the whole south-facing wall was covered with drawers of every size. I put my bed under the window, and Mom painted my room light yellow with pink flowers around the top trim. The hallway was a big circle, and one time Cameron and I got running so fast around it, then I changed directions in an attempt to surprise him... Well, it surprised us both, unfortunately. We rammed right into each other and had identical black eyes for three or four days. I also remember that this house had a fireplace, and one Christmas, Santa left black, ashy footprints from the fireplace to our tree and back. That's when I knew Santa had to be real! Another memory from this house is that we were always playing in the dirt. There was a patch of dirt to the right of the patio, behind the garage, that we would make super muddy and get really dirty in. Andrew was always eating dirt. We also bought our first dog, Pepper, when we lived on Willamette. She was a black lab, and the most spastic dog you will ever meet.
6 - The summer I turned eight, we moved to 8959 W Quinault Ave, still in Kennewick. I was really happy that we got to stay in the same ward, but I was nervous about moving schools, Luckily I had awesome teachers, and Sunset View Elementary was the beginning of my marimba career with Walt Hampton's Rugare Marimba Ensemble.
When we first moved in, I had the tiny bedroom upstairs next to my parent's room. I don't remember much about that room. When Sadie was born and big enough for her own room, I moved to the room right across from the garage downstairs. I was so proud that I was big enough to have a bedroom downstairs! I had an awesome canopy over my bed that made me feel like a princess, and Mom and Dad bought me a new bedframe with gold designs on it. I loved being able to stay up reading without Mom & Dad knowing, hehe. In the spring and summers, Cameron and I would ride our bikes almost every day around the neighborhood, playing cops and robbers. Most of the time we'd ride with Brett Matheson, who would be my best friend all the way through middle school and high school. We'd go to the church parking lot and race each other around the lot and down the stairs.
Later, when I got to middle school, Cameron moved downstairs into my room and I moved into what had previously been known as "Grandma's Room": the guest bedroom at the end of the downstairs hallway. I was so excited! I got to paint the room whatever color I wanted, so I chose brown and teal. My bedspread was an off-white with brown, teal, and green dots, and I was pretty excited to have a queen sized bed all to myself. Even if it was an awful mattress. Later I got my own bookshelf, and then my Junior year I got my own electric keyboard. I also stayed up way too late all the time, but that's a normal teenager thing.
7 - Once I graduated from Kamiakin High School, I moved out to Laie, Hawaii to go to school at BYU-Hawaii! I lived in the oldest dorms possible, Hale 3, room 203D I think. I'll have to double-check the exact number, but it was upstairs to the right. Hale 3 was built in the 60's, I think, around the same time the school was built, and it was so old. Our furniture was all metal, even our beds, and everything smelled like mold. There was no air conditioning, just like 90% of Hawaiian housing, so my first roommate (Rebecca Jacobs) and I had lots of fans. I had a mini fan that I clipped onto my bed right by my face when I slept at night. This served 2 purposes: one, it kept me cool; two, it kept the mosquitos off of my face. Rebecca was nice enough to give me the bed right by the window, which was nice when it was raining or breezy. Not so nice when the weedwhackers started up at 7 AM right outside my window. Looking back, I should have been up and getting ready for class anyways. But instead, I tried to hide under the super cute bedspread my mom had found for me. It was white with green and light blue designs, and I had a green and white polka-dot sheet. I was so sad to leave them behind when we moved.
The hale (Hawaiian for "house") had a courtyard in the middle, where there were a bunch of picnic tables and palm trees. Sometimes I would take my homework outside, but it was also very sunny and I am very white. Other times I'd go in the sitting rooms, which had very out-of-tune pianos. There was also a TV room in the front lobby with bug-infested couches, which should tell you how often I sat and watched TV.
The bathrooms in Hale 3 were communal, which meant they were disgusting. There was always long, black hair in the showers (from lots of Polynesians and Asians), cockroaches in the garbages, and with that many girls sharing a bathroom, there was always a gross scent of feminine products.
All the gross things considered, it was kind of fun to be stuck in this crazy housing with girls all my same age, all of us going through the same things. Sure, we made fun of the "rich Utah girls" in the nicer, newer housing across the street, and we secretly envied them, but we were happy because we were all together.
My next housing was in Hale 2, but it was only for one semester. My room in Hale 2 was way more spacious, with built-in closets and drawers, and a real bed with a night stand. I was downstairs this time, with the window bed again. Outside the window were lots of beautiful tropical flowers, including Birds of Paradise. One early morning around 5:30 AM, I woke to the sounds of someone cutting flowers outside my window. When I finally got the courage to look outside, some random lady was walking away with a bunch of flowers and clippings from the Hale's bushes. I probably should have reported her for stealing, she had a florists van. It was really weird.
8 - In 2014, I moved with a crazy person into TVA Q205. It was a one-bedroom apartment, but the only doors were the front door and the bathroom door. No bedroom door, no separation between kitchen and hallways. I thought it was strange. We had a full-sized bed, a couch, table and chairs, and a desk that was more annoying than helpful. I tried to spruce up the boring white walls with a canvas of the Hawaii temple my mom got me for Christmas, along with some other frames. The side of the fridge had been sprayed with what looked like hot cooking oil, and it took a lot of scrubbing to get it clean. Our bathroom was always infested with ants or termites, which freaked me out, and I also found a 7-inch cane spider in there once. Yikes.
I don't have too much to say about the apartment, but I loved our neighbors. To the right were the Hardisty's, who were always so nice and would watch Jasmine for me sometimes. They were both surfer-type people, always out and exploring. To the left, at first, was the Coronado's. She was Indian and he was Latino, which I always thought was an interesting pairing. They were nice too, but a little more reserved in person. Sometimes, though, they would stay up until 1 AM watching Jimmy Fallon videos at full volume and laughing their heads off. It drove me crazy. After they moved, Sean and Mary moved in. I loved them so much! One General Conference, I made over 300 cinnamon rolls but forgot to plan on only having one oven. They let me use their oven until 3 AM. That's just nutso, right? I still talk to Mary occasionally. They have a little girl who is adorable. Sometimes, since our whole apartment building made up half of the ward, we would do spontaneous potlucks in the center courtyards. Everyone would bring their own plate and utensils, along with a dish to share. It was so much fun to just be with all our friends and neighbors. I miss them all so much.
When Jasmine was born, I found a changing table and a crib that I made fit into our bedroom. I also found a rocking chair, which I loved so much! It was so fun to have baby furniture, and I was so sad again to leave it all behind.
9 - After living in TVA, we moved back in with my parents, which is where we are now! I have the room I had before, but now with new carpet, new bedspread and new paint. I also bought myself a cool mirror and clock, and I repainted my bookshelf blue and the nightstand white.
Jasmine slept in the laundry room while she was still small enough for a crib, and when Cameron was here for 6 weeks between college and mission, Jasmine moved into my room in a toddler bed. I honestly miss having her in the same room with me sometimes. Now she has Cameron's old room, which we've completely redone! I painted 3 of the walls a light green, and the other wall purple with a white, sparkly tree mural. Whenever Jasmine has friends come in her room, she says, "Look! It's my tree!" It makes me so happy that she loves her tree, especially considering how long it took me. I worked on it for over a month. I also painted her bed white and repainted some shelves Cameron had. I still need to put them up, but they're finally painted. I'm still looking for what to put on her big empty wall, but we found super cute purple curtains with tiny white polka dots. Her bedspread is white, green, pink and purple, with butterflies and flowers all over. I also painted a bamboo dish rack purple and put a bunch of her board books in it like a tiny book basket. It has been so much fun to decorate a room for her! I never got to do a nursery when she was first born.
Eventually I will start saving up money and buy my own house, but right now Jasmine and I love living with my family! There are honestly some days I never want to ever leave!
Monday, March 27, 2017
Gains and Losses
A few months ago a new family moved into our ward, a family with four adorable kids and two close enough to Jasmine's age to play. I was so excited to gain a new friend, and I invited her out to the library story time.
After talking with her once, even though her kids were kind of going nutso, I knew we would be friends. She was so down to earth, has the same "contain the crazy" parenting style that I have, and was so easy to talk to. We set up a day to have another play-date and I was so happy to have another friend for Jasmine to play with.
I can't remember specifics, but pretty much every other time we'd set up a play-date something would happen - sick babies, rain on a park day, life - and we'd have to cancel. Then the Open Gym we'd go to together got too expensive for me, I picked up 15 more hours a week of work including during story time, and winter made it impossible to meet up at the park, and with everything combined we just... stopped hanging out. I'd see her at church and chat for a minute, mention something about meeting up at the park again, hope it would actually happen, and then inevitably go back to not hanging out. Not on purpose, just stopped.
I've been so busy lately that I hadn't reached out to her in a while, but I still had intentions of doing someething. Now that it's spring I thought maybe the park or going on walks would be nice. What mom doesn't want an excuse to get her kids out of her house, right?
Well, fastforward to a week ago and I made a general post on Facebook asking about the black face mask people have been raving about. This mom mentioned that she had a few samples and she'd bring them by. I thanked her and sent her a message with my address. Her responses were short but I just assumed she was busy and didn't think much of it. After she dropped the samples off (I was gone and she left them beneath the doormat), I wrote her a message asking if she'd like to go on walks with me sometime, with or without kids. I made it super friendly and thanked her for the samples again.
A week has gone by and she hasn't responded. She's seen it. Just not responded.
I don't know what to read into it. Did I do something wrong? Did I offend her by not following up enough on asking to do stuff together?
If I were a normal stay at home mom with a more open schedule and no work obligations, there are so many things that would be different, and sometimes I wonder if I would have more friends.
After talking with her once, even though her kids were kind of going nutso, I knew we would be friends. She was so down to earth, has the same "contain the crazy" parenting style that I have, and was so easy to talk to. We set up a day to have another play-date and I was so happy to have another friend for Jasmine to play with.
I can't remember specifics, but pretty much every other time we'd set up a play-date something would happen - sick babies, rain on a park day, life - and we'd have to cancel. Then the Open Gym we'd go to together got too expensive for me, I picked up 15 more hours a week of work including during story time, and winter made it impossible to meet up at the park, and with everything combined we just... stopped hanging out. I'd see her at church and chat for a minute, mention something about meeting up at the park again, hope it would actually happen, and then inevitably go back to not hanging out. Not on purpose, just stopped.
I've been so busy lately that I hadn't reached out to her in a while, but I still had intentions of doing someething. Now that it's spring I thought maybe the park or going on walks would be nice. What mom doesn't want an excuse to get her kids out of her house, right?
Well, fastforward to a week ago and I made a general post on Facebook asking about the black face mask people have been raving about. This mom mentioned that she had a few samples and she'd bring them by. I thanked her and sent her a message with my address. Her responses were short but I just assumed she was busy and didn't think much of it. After she dropped the samples off (I was gone and she left them beneath the doormat), I wrote her a message asking if she'd like to go on walks with me sometime, with or without kids. I made it super friendly and thanked her for the samples again.
A week has gone by and she hasn't responded. She's seen it. Just not responded.
I don't know what to read into it. Did I do something wrong? Did I offend her by not following up enough on asking to do stuff together?
If I were a normal stay at home mom with a more open schedule and no work obligations, there are so many things that would be different, and sometimes I wonder if I would have more friends.
Thursday, March 16, 2017
Life Update
It's been a while since I've written anything and I thought I'd give a brief update of my life.
Starting a few weeks ago, we finally got a Guardian ad Litem involved with the custody battle. My lawyer recommended asking for one before it was appointed so we had more say in who it would be, which I will be forever grateful for. Amy Crider, our GAL, seems very knowledgeable and level-headed, and is asking the questions I want her to be asking. I'm hoping and praying that she sees what we need her to see and will help us set boundaries to keep Jasmine safe and healthy.
There have been other fun adventures with financial declarations and property disputes. At first I wasn't going to write about them, but Sister Worth told me once that I should write down every once and a while things that I went through and how it felt, and someday I'll look back on it and be so grateful I made it through. Even though it pretty much just stinks right now. So here goes: both Ethan and I had to answer a giant packet of questions, mostly asking about our financial situations, but also involving what we consider to be community and/or separate property, medical records, our stance on the other parent's custody time, etc. It took me a good 2-3 weeks to get through all the questions and find all the documents his lawyer, Asa LeMusga, was asking for. I mean, who has every bank statement ever from the last 5 years just laying around?? I was only 17 five years ago, so... yep. Anyways, I finally got it all done, and by the time I submitted mine his were done too. As I read through his answers I just got angry. His wedding ring (which he told me was lost, by the way) was listed as his separate property because it was a gift, but my jewelry is community property because he paid for it. Um, hello, what does he expect to do with a necklace and earrings?? I don't wear them anymore because they were from him, but I want to keep them so I can sell them to a pawn shop and pay of some of these dang legal fees. He is also claiming that I bought my car with the understanding that it would be a family car, and then "kept it for myself" once we separated. Now I have to go through all my financial records and prove that I paid for the car with my own money, not community money, and that it was never intended to be a "family car". And of course at the same time I'm trying to get financial aid from the FAFSA, but BYUI wants proof of income for every employment I had in 2015 before they give me any money because I filed taxes with Ethan in 2015 and now we're separated. It's all a big giant mess and I hate it.
To add to the mess from last year, now Mom & Dad and I are trying to figure out how we're supposed to file our taxes for this year; Jasmine and I have definitely been dependent on them for everything, but if they claim me on their taxes I could lose my heath and education benefits, which I can't afford on my own. We're still trying to figure out how in the world to make it all work.
My social life has been lacking for a long time, but I'm finally starting to feel it. I am with kids for almost 30 hours a week, my calling is in the nursery, and I'm not legally single yet, so I don't feel like I can just go hang out with a group of people my age. I went to institute once with Kiersten, but I felt like I had to sneak out afterwards because it's still so awkward to be with a bunch of single guys. Girls are whatever, but guys are just awkward. All I want is to talk to adults my age, to someone I can kind of relate to, but instead I get to talk to toddlers every day all day. Don't get me wrong, I love my toddler. But sometimes I want to talk about something other than a pretend family going camping or the "doggies need food". Something that uses my brain would be nice every once and a while.
I don't know, maybe I'm complaining too much. But sometimes I just want to be done with everything for like 3 weeks and regroup from there. LIFE.
Starting a few weeks ago, we finally got a Guardian ad Litem involved with the custody battle. My lawyer recommended asking for one before it was appointed so we had more say in who it would be, which I will be forever grateful for. Amy Crider, our GAL, seems very knowledgeable and level-headed, and is asking the questions I want her to be asking. I'm hoping and praying that she sees what we need her to see and will help us set boundaries to keep Jasmine safe and healthy.
There have been other fun adventures with financial declarations and property disputes. At first I wasn't going to write about them, but Sister Worth told me once that I should write down every once and a while things that I went through and how it felt, and someday I'll look back on it and be so grateful I made it through. Even though it pretty much just stinks right now. So here goes: both Ethan and I had to answer a giant packet of questions, mostly asking about our financial situations, but also involving what we consider to be community and/or separate property, medical records, our stance on the other parent's custody time, etc. It took me a good 2-3 weeks to get through all the questions and find all the documents his lawyer, Asa LeMusga, was asking for. I mean, who has every bank statement ever from the last 5 years just laying around?? I was only 17 five years ago, so... yep. Anyways, I finally got it all done, and by the time I submitted mine his were done too. As I read through his answers I just got angry. His wedding ring (which he told me was lost, by the way) was listed as his separate property because it was a gift, but my jewelry is community property because he paid for it. Um, hello, what does he expect to do with a necklace and earrings?? I don't wear them anymore because they were from him, but I want to keep them so I can sell them to a pawn shop and pay of some of these dang legal fees. He is also claiming that I bought my car with the understanding that it would be a family car, and then "kept it for myself" once we separated. Now I have to go through all my financial records and prove that I paid for the car with my own money, not community money, and that it was never intended to be a "family car". And of course at the same time I'm trying to get financial aid from the FAFSA, but BYUI wants proof of income for every employment I had in 2015 before they give me any money because I filed taxes with Ethan in 2015 and now we're separated. It's all a big giant mess and I hate it.
To add to the mess from last year, now Mom & Dad and I are trying to figure out how we're supposed to file our taxes for this year; Jasmine and I have definitely been dependent on them for everything, but if they claim me on their taxes I could lose my heath and education benefits, which I can't afford on my own. We're still trying to figure out how in the world to make it all work.
My social life has been lacking for a long time, but I'm finally starting to feel it. I am with kids for almost 30 hours a week, my calling is in the nursery, and I'm not legally single yet, so I don't feel like I can just go hang out with a group of people my age. I went to institute once with Kiersten, but I felt like I had to sneak out afterwards because it's still so awkward to be with a bunch of single guys. Girls are whatever, but guys are just awkward. All I want is to talk to adults my age, to someone I can kind of relate to, but instead I get to talk to toddlers every day all day. Don't get me wrong, I love my toddler. But sometimes I want to talk about something other than a pretend family going camping or the "doggies need food". Something that uses my brain would be nice every once and a while.
I don't know, maybe I'm complaining too much. But sometimes I just want to be done with everything for like 3 weeks and regroup from there. LIFE.
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Burdens Lifted
I read a friend's blog post about anxiety and depression, and I had a memory come back to me that I felt like I needed to record.
About a year ago, when Ethan was still living here and the chaos was in possibly it's worst phase of nastiness, I was having an awful day. I don't remember any specifics, but I remember I'd gone a few days without showering, and I felt completely overwhelmed, Jasmine was teething, and Mom told me she'd take Jasmine for 30 minutes while I showered.
As soon as I got in the shower, I broke down and just bawled. Sadly this was not an uncommon occurrence, but that night for whatever reason was one of the worst. I fell to my knees, overcome mentally and physically by just how much I was dealing with. I'd been avoiding praying for a while; I felt like prayers didn't matter anymore, that they never got answered and I must be being punished for something I'd done wrong. I was in a dark, nasty place that I felt like I was never going to leave.
But, miraculously, I felt the gentle nudge to pray. I hadn't felt any promptings lately, or maybe I'd given up on listening to them, but somehow I felt the tiniest whisper reaching out to me to kneel and pray.
I knelt hesitantly, not really knowing what I was going to ask for. I wanted everything and everyone to just go away, to sink into the floor, to go to sleep and not wake up. I didn't want to die necessarily, but I definitely didn't want to be living the life I was in. I started my prayer simply, and took a lot of pauses, some of them to sob. I didn't know why I was praying or what I was asking for, I was just following the first prompting I could remember in a long time.
Then, I don't remember exactly what I said, but it was something along the lines of, "Please take this all away. Please just let me breathe." And all of the sudden, I could. I felt the weight literally come off of my shoulders, a physical burden being taken off of my body. As I sat under the steaming water, I breathed deeply for the first time in months. I was still sad; that wouldn't leave for a long time. In reality, it still hasn't really left. But I could close my eyes, lay my head against the tub and just breathe, in and out, in and out. I didn't realize until that moment that I had been so physically tense, and then all of the sudden it was gone.
A little while later it came back, and I had to go back to my frightening life and face my terrifying husband and crippling anxiety. I would not have been able to do that, though, if I hadn't had those 5-10 minutes of peace, granted from a simple, honest plea.
I know the Savior took my sorrows and carried them specifically in that moment. He was right there, physically, although I couldn't see him, lifting the burdens from my back and carrying them for me, and then with me. My trial didn't end, my anxiety wasn't instantly healed, my fear wasn't completely dissipated for good; but Jesus Christ gave me the strength to ride through the storm. My Savior suffered for me, and carried me when I could go no further. As it says in Matthew 11:28-30:
About a year ago, when Ethan was still living here and the chaos was in possibly it's worst phase of nastiness, I was having an awful day. I don't remember any specifics, but I remember I'd gone a few days without showering, and I felt completely overwhelmed, Jasmine was teething, and Mom told me she'd take Jasmine for 30 minutes while I showered.
As soon as I got in the shower, I broke down and just bawled. Sadly this was not an uncommon occurrence, but that night for whatever reason was one of the worst. I fell to my knees, overcome mentally and physically by just how much I was dealing with. I'd been avoiding praying for a while; I felt like prayers didn't matter anymore, that they never got answered and I must be being punished for something I'd done wrong. I was in a dark, nasty place that I felt like I was never going to leave.
But, miraculously, I felt the gentle nudge to pray. I hadn't felt any promptings lately, or maybe I'd given up on listening to them, but somehow I felt the tiniest whisper reaching out to me to kneel and pray.
I knelt hesitantly, not really knowing what I was going to ask for. I wanted everything and everyone to just go away, to sink into the floor, to go to sleep and not wake up. I didn't want to die necessarily, but I definitely didn't want to be living the life I was in. I started my prayer simply, and took a lot of pauses, some of them to sob. I didn't know why I was praying or what I was asking for, I was just following the first prompting I could remember in a long time.
Then, I don't remember exactly what I said, but it was something along the lines of, "Please take this all away. Please just let me breathe." And all of the sudden, I could. I felt the weight literally come off of my shoulders, a physical burden being taken off of my body. As I sat under the steaming water, I breathed deeply for the first time in months. I was still sad; that wouldn't leave for a long time. In reality, it still hasn't really left. But I could close my eyes, lay my head against the tub and just breathe, in and out, in and out. I didn't realize until that moment that I had been so physically tense, and then all of the sudden it was gone.
A little while later it came back, and I had to go back to my frightening life and face my terrifying husband and crippling anxiety. I would not have been able to do that, though, if I hadn't had those 5-10 minutes of peace, granted from a simple, honest plea.
I know the Savior took my sorrows and carried them specifically in that moment. He was right there, physically, although I couldn't see him, lifting the burdens from my back and carrying them for me, and then with me. My trial didn't end, my anxiety wasn't instantly healed, my fear wasn't completely dissipated for good; but Jesus Christ gave me the strength to ride through the storm. My Savior suffered for me, and carried me when I could go no further. As it says in Matthew 11:28-30:
"Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."
"Free" Time
- What are some of the things you enjoy doing in your leisure time?
Lately I haven't had a ton of free time. I'm nannying for two different families, teaching 7 piano students, working for the high school, taking online classes, going through a nasty divorce, all on top of being the mom of a toddler. I do, however, have a few things I enjoy if I have a minute or two to myself.
- Sudoku. I have always loved doing Sudoku, but recently I've been doing it even more. My 5th grade teacher introduced it to us, and I would attempt the daily newspaper Sudoku. The last month or so I've been trying to do it a little every day, and it's been very calming. My counselor said a while ago that minds that are struggling with anxiety thrive on comparisons and numbers, logical things. Observing things like, "That lamp is taller than the fireplace. There are four red apples and two green ones", and so on. My guess is that Sudoku does that for my brain and gives me a little breather every day.
- Playing instruments. It's been just piano lately, but if I ever have a spare moment and access to a marimba/piano/guitar/organ/etc, chances are I will be playing. I've been playing books I played from in High School the last few months, but I need to branch out and get some new books sometime. Maybe when I have extra money, haha.
- Blogging. Surprise, surprise.
- Reading!!! My goal this New Year's was to read more. I really didn't read anything at all in 2015, so reading anything at all would have been more than I read before. I used to read two or three books a month, maybe more, but being an adult I don't have as much free time as before. But I've read a few really great books this year: a few novels, A Man's Search for Meaning, and a really awesome book about the Salem Witch Trials. I've read a few pages every night before bed, and I take it to the Blake's when I nanny for them Tuesdays and Fridays; when Malcolm and Jasmine sleep, I read! (Or nap with them).
Using the Spirit to be a Mom
Jasmine tonight didn't want to go to bed, and kept asking to lay down. She was so tired though, and if she didn't sleep in her own bed tonight tomorrow would be miserable. I tried putting her down once and she just kept screaming. I've been so tired today, and I really wasn't looking forward to another night of constant back and forth. I went downstairs again, picked Jasmine up and just held her for a minute. I told her to "look at mama", and told her, "Gigi is going to sleep, Papa is going to sleep, Donut is going to sleep, Sadie and Andrew and Cameron are going to sleep... everyone is going to sleep, so Jasmine needs to sleep too". She laid down on my shoulder, and I sang the first verse of Joy to the World (her favorite Christmas song). I was about to put her down, but I felt the Spirit say, "Just a minute more. Hold her just a little longer". Right after deciding to say, Jasmine asked "more please". I sang her the rest of the verses, then gently set her in bed and gave her a blanket. When I leaned down to kiss her cheek, she said, "Thank you, Mommy". I walked away knowing I made her feel loved and safe. I'm so thankful for the Spirit's gentle nudges helping me to be Jasmine's mom.
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
THINGS ABOUT ME
List 20 or more things about yourself.
1. I have freckles and I love them!
2. My favorite books are Mistborn (Brandon Sanderson), Wuthering Heights (Charlotte Bronte), and Julius Caesar (William Shakespeare).
3. If I'm ever alone I sing at the top of my lungs. Around people, not so much.
4. I've been taking music lessons since I was 5 years old.
5. I have a secret soft spot for McChickens.
6. I used to think that Yoda lived in the toilet and that he would grab me if I went to the bathroom in the dark.
7. I know I'm stressed if I don't have any dreams. If I am dreaming, that usually means my life is going pretty good.
8. I love cheesecake. And pizza.
9. I used to have a huge crush on Dmitri from the movie Anastasia
10. I've wanted to be a teacher since I was in 2nd grade
11. I really actually hate eating breakfast, but I love breakfast food. Just for dinner.
12. I hate chocolate-peanut butter candies. Yuck.
13. I don't know if you can tell, but I am very passionate about food.
14. I love getting dressed up and looking really nice, but I hate doing my hair or wearing make up. It's a constant battle.
15. I am the worst dancer you will ever see. There's a reason I play the music and avoid moving to it.
16. My least favorite thing in the whole wide world is clothes shopping. I've had my mom find my clothes for the last ummm..... pretty much 21 years. My whole life.
17. I really love grocery shopping. Don't judge me.
18. Every day at 3:30 PM I get so tired. Which is really, really bad because I teach piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays from 3:30-5. There are honestly some lessons that I am struggling to keep my eyes open.
19. My socks rarely, if ever, match. Except for the 2 nice pairs my mom bought me a few months ago.
20. There used to not be a curtain on our sliding glass door downstairs, and I was always afraid someone was going to break in at night while I was going up the stairs and grab me from behind. I ran up the stairs every single night until a few years ago when we finally got curtains. BUT Cameron told me recently he used to do the same thing, so at least we're afraid of the same things!
16. My least favorite thing in the whole wide world is clothes shopping. I've had my mom find my clothes for the last ummm..... pretty much 21 years. My whole life.
17. I really love grocery shopping. Don't judge me.
18. Every day at 3:30 PM I get so tired. Which is really, really bad because I teach piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays from 3:30-5. There are honestly some lessons that I am struggling to keep my eyes open.
19. My socks rarely, if ever, match. Except for the 2 nice pairs my mom bought me a few months ago.
20. There used to not be a curtain on our sliding glass door downstairs, and I was always afraid someone was going to break in at night while I was going up the stairs and grab me from behind. I ran up the stairs every single night until a few years ago when we finally got curtains. BUT Cameron told me recently he used to do the same thing, so at least we're afraid of the same things!
Thursday, December 1, 2016
JOBS
What were some of the jobs you had throughout your life? What were some of the memorable experiences you had with these jobs?
1 - I babysat starting when I was 11, mostly for Marianne Larsen. When I started babysitting for them they had 4 kids, ages 0-4. Now they have 8 kids between 3 and 14 with a baby coming in May. I watched their kids once or twice a week, and for a few other people on weekends too. My most memorable babysitting experience has to be a night I did with Madison Egli. We watched the Larsens (they had 5 at that point) and their cousins- a 2 year old and twin babies. Yikes. There was never a moment where there wasn't a baby crying for 2 hours straight. Luckily we got paid $25 each for 2 hours of babysitting. That night was crazy.
2 - Piano lessons! I started teaching piano when I was 14 years old from my house. I was really hesitant to teach; I didn't think I was qualified to teach beginning students something I was still learning myself. Once I started, however, I learned that I actually really do love to teach! I loved the funny things my students would say, watching them have those "ah-hah!" moments, getting hugs from the little ones, and learning myself. There was one student, Hailey Ostler, that I always knew would keep me on my toes. She was so excited to learn, but had way more energy than I knew what to do with. And she was right after school, so she was always hungry during lessons and would ask for pretzels. I still teach now and it is different now that I'm not as much their peer and more of an older, mom-like figure, but it is still mostly fun and I still learn every time I teach.
3 - Reffing for the Rec League basketball. This is my least favorite job I've ever had. I thought in the beginning that it would be fun, and a good use of my otherwise open weekends. Little kids running around chasing a basketball is cute, right? Well, the kids might be cute, but their parents are terrifying. Who would have thought that parents have so much invested in teams of 5 year olds? I was so relieved when that basketball season was over, and I will never do that again.
4 - Online Music TA. I got this job my 3rd semester of college for my Sight Singing professor, Sister Duerden. I was the TA for one class, World Music Cultures, and it was all online. When I accepted the job, I had this picture in my head of me doing all my work from my nice comfy bed in my PJ's eating ice cream. Sadly, they actually wanted all the TA's to work from the Online Department office, which worked out once I got pregnant, because it was air conditioned and my apartment was not. But my job was basically just to grade everything, answer emails from confused students, monitor quizzes, and organize the chaos that was the documents folder. Sister D, as wonderful as she is, didn't really put Music 102 as a top priority in her teaching career. She graded midterms and finals and that was pretty much it. By the end of that job I was ready to not be the teacher anymore.
5 - Music Theory Tutor! This was a job I enjoyed a lot more than I thought I would! Brother Kammerrer, my Theory professor, approached me about it when I was in my 4th semester at BYUH, and I was very hesitant to accept. I passed Theory with an A, but I didn't feel like I was necessarily the best there was. But I actually found that the more I helped tutor the students in Music 100-115, I became much more competent myself! Funny how that works. I learned to enjoy talking about leading tones, the best way to double in choral writing, augmented 7th chords... Not to mention that if no one came in for tutoring that day, I got paid for practicing piano or doing my own homework. It was a sweet job!
6 - Chauffeur. For the last year-ish, Marianne Larsen has paid me to drive 4 of her kids to and from clarinet lessons/marimba band/steel drum/choir/math lessons/etc. It's the perfect job for a single mom! I can take Jasmine with me in the car if she's awake, hang out wherever they're going or come home, and when they go to Marimba Band or Steel Drum, I help teach the class with Mr. Hampton. It's great!
7 - PT Aide at Dad's clinic! In the summers after I graduated high school, I worked Mon/Wed/Fri in the mornings at Columbia Physical Therapy as an aide. I got the best job of all: sticking electro-pads on hairy bums. Hooray! Seriously, I got paid to put sticky pads on lots of bums and chests and shoulders and legs. I also helped patients with their exercises and did cleaning around the clinic. Sometimes if Belen was gone, I filled in as a receptionist. I didn't think I'd enjoy it as much as I did, but I loved working with people and talking to everyone who came through.
3 - Reffing for the Rec League basketball. This is my least favorite job I've ever had. I thought in the beginning that it would be fun, and a good use of my otherwise open weekends. Little kids running around chasing a basketball is cute, right? Well, the kids might be cute, but their parents are terrifying. Who would have thought that parents have so much invested in teams of 5 year olds? I was so relieved when that basketball season was over, and I will never do that again.
4 - Online Music TA. I got this job my 3rd semester of college for my Sight Singing professor, Sister Duerden. I was the TA for one class, World Music Cultures, and it was all online. When I accepted the job, I had this picture in my head of me doing all my work from my nice comfy bed in my PJ's eating ice cream. Sadly, they actually wanted all the TA's to work from the Online Department office, which worked out once I got pregnant, because it was air conditioned and my apartment was not. But my job was basically just to grade everything, answer emails from confused students, monitor quizzes, and organize the chaos that was the documents folder. Sister D, as wonderful as she is, didn't really put Music 102 as a top priority in her teaching career. She graded midterms and finals and that was pretty much it. By the end of that job I was ready to not be the teacher anymore.
5 - Music Theory Tutor! This was a job I enjoyed a lot more than I thought I would! Brother Kammerrer, my Theory professor, approached me about it when I was in my 4th semester at BYUH, and I was very hesitant to accept. I passed Theory with an A, but I didn't feel like I was necessarily the best there was. But I actually found that the more I helped tutor the students in Music 100-115, I became much more competent myself! Funny how that works. I learned to enjoy talking about leading tones, the best way to double in choral writing, augmented 7th chords... Not to mention that if no one came in for tutoring that day, I got paid for practicing piano or doing my own homework. It was a sweet job!
6 - Chauffeur. For the last year-ish, Marianne Larsen has paid me to drive 4 of her kids to and from clarinet lessons/marimba band/steel drum/choir/math lessons/etc. It's the perfect job for a single mom! I can take Jasmine with me in the car if she's awake, hang out wherever they're going or come home, and when they go to Marimba Band or Steel Drum, I help teach the class with Mr. Hampton. It's great!
7 - PT Aide at Dad's clinic! In the summers after I graduated high school, I worked Mon/Wed/Fri in the mornings at Columbia Physical Therapy as an aide. I got the best job of all: sticking electro-pads on hairy bums. Hooray! Seriously, I got paid to put sticky pads on lots of bums and chests and shoulders and legs. I also helped patients with their exercises and did cleaning around the clinic. Sometimes if Belen was gone, I filled in as a receptionist. I didn't think I'd enjoy it as much as I did, but I loved working with people and talking to everyone who came through.
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Values
What are some of the personal values that are very important to you? What have you done (and what are you doing now) to teach these values to your children?
I feel like I've done a lot of lists, but they just work so well with these questions. So here goes.
1. I value a sense of humor, and not just when life is easy. 2nd Nephi 2:25 very clearly states, "Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy." If you can't laugh, even when life is hard, that's just sad. No one wants to be sad all the time! I'm trying to teach Jasmine now that when someone is sad, the best thing to do is make them smile. I am also trying, in my own time of extreme trial, to keep smiling. I stopped smiling for a while, and it was a bummer. Now I feel like I'm back to my old self a little bit and laughing every day, and it makes life so much better!
2. I value hard work! I'm not going to lie, I don't love yard work or cleaning the house or doing the bills. It's not fun. But I also know that life isn't meant to just be fun all the time. If we never work, we never learn or grow or earn money to pay the bills. Without work we are static, no change, and that is literally the definition of "damned". For personal growth we have to work! Right now I'm teaching Jasmine to help me clean up, and let me tell you, there are plenty of her messes to clean up every day. I've taught her the clean-up song, which she sings a lot. It sounds like this, "Nean. Up. Nean. Up. Nean. Up." We'll work on the "cl" sound soon. Maybe. Jasmine also "helps" with the dishes, sweeping, feeding the dog, folding laundry, scrubbing the toilet, stirring cookie dough... she's my best little helper!
3. I value my testimony of the Gospel. My whole life, I have known that living by the standards of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints has brought me happiness. I have awesome parents who taught me to pay my tithing, go to church every Sunday, dress modestly, read my scriptures, etc. There have been a few times that I wasn't quite sure in my testimony, and I relied on my mom or dad's, but I always knew that there was more to this life than what I could see or learn in school. Since going through the temple for the first time, receiving my patriarchal blessing, and especially since having Jasmine, my testimony has grown exponentially. There have been a lot of trials the last few years, enough to make me wonder what's really true. Something inside me though always knew that I needed to keep going to church, I needed to keep reading the scriptures, I needed the temple and the peace of the Spirit at least with me, if not within my home. And even though now sometimes it is so hard to be at church as a single mother, I know it's where I need to be every single week. I only hope I can teach Jasmine as well as my parents have taught me!
Health And Sickness
What kind of health challenges have you experienced?
I could have sworn I answered this question earlier, but I actually have something different I wanted to add today. As I believe I said earlier, growing up I never really had any health challenges. I never had the chicken pox, broke a bone, I didn't even really get sick all that often. There were a lot of years in school I got the "perfect attendance" award. My senior year I had a weird stomach thing, but I'm 99% sure that was simply stress playing it's part.
However, the health challenge I want to write about today is one that most people wouldn't categorize as health, but it really truly is. From the beginning of 2015 until even now, September 2016, I have struggled with anxiety and depression. There's a lot that's happened in my life the last few years I haven't blogged about, but that will have to wait for a different blog post. For now, I will sum up. Ethan, the man I married in August of 2014, was a verbal, physical, and emotional abuser. I didn't realize it until after Jasmine was born and he physically abused her, but from the beginning of our relationship until the very, very end, he controlled and manipulated me, maybe intentional maybe not, but the effect was the same.
While we lived in Hawaii, I always felt scattered, but I felt like that was my fault. I convinced myself I just needed to clean more or pray more or go to the temple or get more organized with my schoolwork, but I was still struggling and didn't understand why. I had always excelled in everything before, so failing classes and skipping work and rehearsals wasn't like me. Once Jasmine was born, I luckily had enough sense to know I needed to stay home with her full time and focus on being a mom.
There were days at home with Jasmine that I literally would not leave the apartment all day long. As much as I hated it, I couldn't bring myself to go out among happy people when my life felt so chaotic and wrong. How do you explain to someone how disheveled you feel when you don't know the reason why?
Eventually things got so bad financially and otherwise that Ethan and I decided we needed to leave Hawaii. If I had been in a normal frame of mind, I would have been devastated; but things being as they were, I couldn't wait to leave and go home to my mom. I could not wait to see my family again and be in a home I felt absolutely safe. Ethan wasn't as thrilled to live with my parents, but luckily there was no where for us to be at his parents house, especially not with a baby, so we moved to Kennewick. A lot of what happened between then and around February I honestly don't remember, but my mom told me a few weeks ago that I slept for about 3 days while she took care of Jasmine the first week we were back. I was exhausted from just trying to stay alive and take care of a baby by myself, and I just collapsed.
After a few weeks of my parents observing interactions between Ethan and I, his lack of interest or interaction with Jasmine, and my general despair and helplessness, my Dad (the bishop of our ward) brought me in for a one-on-one chat with him. I told him a little bit of what had been going on, and he asked if I wanted to see a counselor. I was so relieved that I would be able to finally talk to someone about how I really felt; I never could tell Ethan because I was afraid it would be too much for him. He hated when I would cry, didn't like being accused of doing anything wrong, and just treated me like a child in general. Talking to him was not helpful. I finally had some hope that a counselor would be.
I started seeing Scott Wangsgaard in I believe December of 2015. My first 3 or 4 sessions I cried the entire time. Cried talking about Ethan, about Jasmine, about my loss of college experiences, my up and down relationship with my parents, finances... everything was a mess and I didn't even know where to start. But, much like the tidying up book that Mom loves, the best way to clear out the clutter starts by throwing everything you have on the floor. It was here that I started recognizing that it wasn't just Ethan that had mental health problems. My counselor, and eventually my mom too when I started talking to her more, both recognized that I was struggling with anxiety and depression. My counselor said it was likely a combination of post-partum depression and also trauma-induced anxiety and depression. And as funny as it sounds to say it, I was relieved to finally understand a tiny piece of what was going on in my life. No wonder I felt so crappy!
After one of our sessions, I believe a week or so before Christmas, Ethan and I went to his parents for a few weeks. Things there were always crazy. I would never say it out loud, but I hated visiting Bothell. It was seriously the worst. But again, that's a story for a different day. About halfway through the week of visiting his family, I was having an awful day. Everything seemed like it was going completely wrong. At the beginning of the day, Ethan took me to a gun shop by his parent's house. I thought we were going just to browse so that Ethan could get in his gun fix for the month, maybe get an idea of prices and whatnot; then, he said something like, "I think I'll buy this one." At the time we were over $8,000 in debt and not working a lot, and spending $150 on a gun we didn't need stressed me out so bad. Luckily Ethan noticed I was unsure, and listened to me when I told him I didn't think it was the right time to buy a gun - but he was mad.
He was silent the whole drive home, the kind of quiet that always scared me because I knew it came before either an angry outburst or something drastic that would be a way to "punish" me. I was right; when we got back to his parents house, he was still silent, even when I tried to ask questions, and I went to get Jasmine from his mom then followed him into the bedroom. I took care of Jasmine while I sat on the bed, waiting for him to talk to me. He ignored me and played on his phone. All of the sudden, he took out his credit card and started cutting it into tiny pieces. On the inside I was rejoicing, I had wanted to do the same thing for months, but I also felt a pit in my stomach because I knew it meant he was angry. I don't remember what he said to me, but he pretty much just played the victim and said things like, "I got this money for my birthday, I should be able to do whatever I want with it" or "Every once and a while it would be nice to spend money on something that isn't diapers". Like I didn't want to buy nice things for myself either? I just wanted to shake him and say, "Do you think I like spending $65 a month on diapers? Don't you think I'd like something nice for myself too? This is what you do when you have kids, you sacrifice things you want for things they need." But of course I couldn't say any of this.
After the initial episode of the silent treatment and playing the victim, Ethan asked to be alone, so I went downstairs and took Jasmine with me. I got out some of her books and let her wiggle around on the floor of the conference room in their basement. At first I was fine, but gradually this sense of dread grew out of my stomach and consumed my whole being. I starting bawling uncontrollably and holding myself, trying not to completely lose it in front of my 7 month old baby, who I could tell was very concerned about me crying. It felt like my brain was closing in on me and I was going to implode right there. I wanted to run and collapse all at the same time. This lasted for a few minutes, and then I finally felt like I could breathe again. After it was all over, I realized that wasn't the first time I'd felt that way. There were a few days I could recall feeling that exact same, and knowing that for some reason I couldn't talk to Ethan about it.
Once I talked to Dr. Wangsgaard, he told me that these were anxiety attacks, and that he was glad I told him about them. He gave me some advice about what to do if I felt them coming on, and that the best thing to do would be having someone with me.
There is a lot of other stuff that happened and that I've had to handle as a result of the abuse and our inevitable divorce and custody battle. I am sure I will have little pieces of anxiety and/or depression for some time. I have grown a new sense of respect and love for those who develop these mental illnesses for seemingly no reason; I'm able to say "I feel this way because of this", and it makes it a little bit easier to battle. But I will say this: no matter the reason, the intensity, who you are, where you live, how young or old you are- the Savior is there always. Even when he doesn't make it go away, he is there holding you up and leading you on. I have felt him so close, especially recently as I have made a larger effort to grow closer to him. My trials haven't left me. I still struggle through a lot of days and cry a lot of tears. The difference is I have hope, because I feel him there fighting my battles with me. And when the one fighting your battle is the one who overcame all, it is so much easier to trust that good will triumph over all.
Eventually things got so bad financially and otherwise that Ethan and I decided we needed to leave Hawaii. If I had been in a normal frame of mind, I would have been devastated; but things being as they were, I couldn't wait to leave and go home to my mom. I could not wait to see my family again and be in a home I felt absolutely safe. Ethan wasn't as thrilled to live with my parents, but luckily there was no where for us to be at his parents house, especially not with a baby, so we moved to Kennewick. A lot of what happened between then and around February I honestly don't remember, but my mom told me a few weeks ago that I slept for about 3 days while she took care of Jasmine the first week we were back. I was exhausted from just trying to stay alive and take care of a baby by myself, and I just collapsed.
After a few weeks of my parents observing interactions between Ethan and I, his lack of interest or interaction with Jasmine, and my general despair and helplessness, my Dad (the bishop of our ward) brought me in for a one-on-one chat with him. I told him a little bit of what had been going on, and he asked if I wanted to see a counselor. I was so relieved that I would be able to finally talk to someone about how I really felt; I never could tell Ethan because I was afraid it would be too much for him. He hated when I would cry, didn't like being accused of doing anything wrong, and just treated me like a child in general. Talking to him was not helpful. I finally had some hope that a counselor would be.
I started seeing Scott Wangsgaard in I believe December of 2015. My first 3 or 4 sessions I cried the entire time. Cried talking about Ethan, about Jasmine, about my loss of college experiences, my up and down relationship with my parents, finances... everything was a mess and I didn't even know where to start. But, much like the tidying up book that Mom loves, the best way to clear out the clutter starts by throwing everything you have on the floor. It was here that I started recognizing that it wasn't just Ethan that had mental health problems. My counselor, and eventually my mom too when I started talking to her more, both recognized that I was struggling with anxiety and depression. My counselor said it was likely a combination of post-partum depression and also trauma-induced anxiety and depression. And as funny as it sounds to say it, I was relieved to finally understand a tiny piece of what was going on in my life. No wonder I felt so crappy!
After one of our sessions, I believe a week or so before Christmas, Ethan and I went to his parents for a few weeks. Things there were always crazy. I would never say it out loud, but I hated visiting Bothell. It was seriously the worst. But again, that's a story for a different day. About halfway through the week of visiting his family, I was having an awful day. Everything seemed like it was going completely wrong. At the beginning of the day, Ethan took me to a gun shop by his parent's house. I thought we were going just to browse so that Ethan could get in his gun fix for the month, maybe get an idea of prices and whatnot; then, he said something like, "I think I'll buy this one." At the time we were over $8,000 in debt and not working a lot, and spending $150 on a gun we didn't need stressed me out so bad. Luckily Ethan noticed I was unsure, and listened to me when I told him I didn't think it was the right time to buy a gun - but he was mad.
He was silent the whole drive home, the kind of quiet that always scared me because I knew it came before either an angry outburst or something drastic that would be a way to "punish" me. I was right; when we got back to his parents house, he was still silent, even when I tried to ask questions, and I went to get Jasmine from his mom then followed him into the bedroom. I took care of Jasmine while I sat on the bed, waiting for him to talk to me. He ignored me and played on his phone. All of the sudden, he took out his credit card and started cutting it into tiny pieces. On the inside I was rejoicing, I had wanted to do the same thing for months, but I also felt a pit in my stomach because I knew it meant he was angry. I don't remember what he said to me, but he pretty much just played the victim and said things like, "I got this money for my birthday, I should be able to do whatever I want with it" or "Every once and a while it would be nice to spend money on something that isn't diapers". Like I didn't want to buy nice things for myself either? I just wanted to shake him and say, "Do you think I like spending $65 a month on diapers? Don't you think I'd like something nice for myself too? This is what you do when you have kids, you sacrifice things you want for things they need." But of course I couldn't say any of this.
After the initial episode of the silent treatment and playing the victim, Ethan asked to be alone, so I went downstairs and took Jasmine with me. I got out some of her books and let her wiggle around on the floor of the conference room in their basement. At first I was fine, but gradually this sense of dread grew out of my stomach and consumed my whole being. I starting bawling uncontrollably and holding myself, trying not to completely lose it in front of my 7 month old baby, who I could tell was very concerned about me crying. It felt like my brain was closing in on me and I was going to implode right there. I wanted to run and collapse all at the same time. This lasted for a few minutes, and then I finally felt like I could breathe again. After it was all over, I realized that wasn't the first time I'd felt that way. There were a few days I could recall feeling that exact same, and knowing that for some reason I couldn't talk to Ethan about it.
Once I talked to Dr. Wangsgaard, he told me that these were anxiety attacks, and that he was glad I told him about them. He gave me some advice about what to do if I felt them coming on, and that the best thing to do would be having someone with me.
There is a lot of other stuff that happened and that I've had to handle as a result of the abuse and our inevitable divorce and custody battle. I am sure I will have little pieces of anxiety and/or depression for some time. I have grown a new sense of respect and love for those who develop these mental illnesses for seemingly no reason; I'm able to say "I feel this way because of this", and it makes it a little bit easier to battle. But I will say this: no matter the reason, the intensity, who you are, where you live, how young or old you are- the Savior is there always. Even when he doesn't make it go away, he is there holding you up and leading you on. I have felt him so close, especially recently as I have made a larger effort to grow closer to him. My trials haven't left me. I still struggle through a lot of days and cry a lot of tears. The difference is I have hope, because I feel him there fighting my battles with me. And when the one fighting your battle is the one who overcame all, it is so much easier to trust that good will triumph over all.
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