Here’s Looking at You, Hope

Here's to crying yourself to sleep with the Finding Nemo theme playing, grounding you in unreachable hope. Here's to sleeping in out of fear of depression, only to realize that the day is bright and full of hope, and you feel better. Dear readers, don't you ever give up. Life seems like too great a … Continue reading Here’s Looking at You, Hope

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Hope: I Am Enough

I don't know if anyone else is like me, but I have problems. Looking at Facebook, is sometimes seems like I'm the only one. But I don't post every time I have a bad day, and I guess neither do you. What I don't post are days that I cry solely because my brain chemicals … Continue reading Hope: I Am Enough

The Unglamorous Art of Surviving

Dear Reader, You asked how I function; how I get through the day. You asked how long it took for me to accept that my loved one was gone. You asked for advice. Well, here are words: You have recently lost a loved one, and I am so deeply sorry for you. It has been … Continue reading The Unglamorous Art of Surviving

Something Worth Waiting For

I didn't cry when he proposed to me, but I'm crying now. Looking at the pictures of the proposal, his perfect face glowing with happiness, fills me with an emotion so deep I didn't even know it existed. I don't know if it has a name. It involves the knowledge of how unbearable life has … Continue reading Something Worth Waiting For

My Capital-T Truth

Dear humans who read this, I hope that the holidays treat you well. I hope they are filled with joy and love, and that all your dreams come true. I hope you look back on December 2015 as one of the best times of your life, and that you move forward into 2016 with renewed … Continue reading My Capital-T Truth

amidst ashes: surviving suicide

I wrote this piece for Young Mormon Feminists but it totally applies to y’all, my original readers. Much love!

Young Mormon Feminists

In recognition of September being National Suicide Prevention Month

Last year I got this close to killing myself, but I survived.

It hurts to talk, to think about the experience. I went to BYU for a semester and within a few months I was severely depressed—on the brink of suicide. My lifelong perfectionism had finally caught up with me, and it was tightening around my neck in an invisible noose. They were dark times, endless days of pain I can’t even put into words. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to wake up. There was no rest for my soul; not in prayer, in conversation, in closeness. An untouchable emptiness inside me itched constantly. I got headaches from clenching my teeth from anxiety. I moved through the days with a constant wish that a car would flatten me.

I made feeble attempts to live, one of which was joining a BYU therapy…

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Moving On

There are a lot of words inside me lately, all swirling in my brain and confused about how to get out. The summer is winding down and I'm looking forward to starting Fall 2015 semester soon. This summer ends along with the hope of a new relationship: someone I love decided I wasn't for him. It … Continue reading Moving On