Abuse and Neglect

I have been woefully neglectful of this blog.  I admit it.  It's not as if I haven't had things to write about, but more that I didn't really want to detail and expound upon the downward spiral I have been on for the last month. 

April has always been a difficult month for me.  For some reason, it's the month in which I am absolutely and unequivocally reminded of the chemical imbalance that lends itself to my depression and anxiety issues.  This year, I have been plagued by headaches, the likes of which I haven't known in a long while.  For those of you who suffer with migraines, you know what I'm talking about. 

My job is difficult, more difficult than I ever thought it would be, but I love the work.  I decompress by talking things over with my husband, and, as was the case last night, spending some quality time with an equine friend.  Sometimes I think about what life will be like when I am out in Utah, and how amazing it would be to host a rehab program for survivors of abuse (both equine and human).  Connecting with horses has done more for me in the last two years than the countless hours I have spent in counseling.  There is something immensely healing about the trust that exists between horse and rider, and the knowledge that neither of you will make any progress without trusting the other. 

As for my faith, I'm glad to say that my testimony has not wavered, despite the mental attacks I have been going through for the last month.  What has faltered is my ability to do everything.

I am no Molly Mormon.

Wow, that stung a little.

I tend to hold myself up to standards I would never expect from anyone else.  For my work to be exemplary, as well as for my house to be spotless, meals to be flawless, Church callings magnified to the nth degree... you see where I'm going with this.

Well, my work must be exemplary, and my callings must be magnified.  But admitting to myself that "the rest is just details" has been a chore.

This weekend, if the current migraine goes away, I will be planting sunflowers in our community garden.  The worst is over, and I feel like playing in the dirt.