Day 4 of the #40daysto40 #birthdaychallenge Madness

Day 4: April 15
Challenge: Post a silly selfie

After embracing the silliness of speaking in an accent for a whole day, this one was kind of a breeze. It still took me until the evening to do it, though, because I don't want to be seen as frivolous or silly. Generally speaking, I want people to take me seriously. However, we all need to let loose, including me, and be OK with the idea of laughing at ourselves. So, I went extra and used an app to really get silly; and I loved it!

Day 3 of the #40daysto40 #birthdaychallenge Madness

Day 3: April 14, 2017
Challenge: speak in a foreign accent for a day

This challenge seems rather silly at the outset, but that was the whole point. I love being silly. I love speaking with different accents and funny voices; I just don't do it in front of people. I've always been afraid of their judgment; so I keep my silliness to myself. This challenge wasn't about the accent, it was about embracing the silliness. I chose to do a British accent (standard/queen's English) for two reasons: it's easy and I was in a play where I was a British character. My students thought that my accent was "on fleek" (whatever that's supposed to mean), and a grocery store clerk actually asked me what part of England I was from. I know, even if they didn't, that my British accent was far from accurate, I constantly mixed pronunciations from different regions.

At the beginning of the day, I was super shy about the challenge, and tried to talk to as few people as possible. Then I realized that not talking to people would defeat the purpose of the challenge. I decided to push my bubbling anxiety down, and really get into character, as it were. I made up a character in my mind (I didn't tell it to anyone else) who was a teacher from England here in the states on an exchange program. I let myself be someone else for the day, and it was really fun. It was nice to not think about my life for a hot minute. I enjoyed coming back to myself at the end of the day and discovered that I was really grateful for what my life is. I learned from this challenge that it is OK to let people see my "wacky" side. It's fun to be silly. It's good to escape every once in a while so that I can better appreciate what I have and what I'm capable of.

Day 2 of the #40daysto40 #birthdaychallenge Madness

Day 2: April 13, 2017
Challenge: Learn a song on the ukulele

So, I bought myself a ukulele like six years ago, and never learned to play it. Like many of the instruments in my life it remains largely untouched. I wanted to give myself a challenge to help me remember the joy of learning something new and also the joy of  music. Since ukulele playing is easier than guitar playing, I thought this would be an easy challenge; it was not. Learning the song was not hard, in the end, the hard part was going easy on myself for making mistakes. Music used to be so easy for me, I could pick up how to play any stringed instrument I could get my hands on, it just came so naturally to me. Then in my third year of college, I seriously damaged my wrist and my natural "knack" for playing was suddenly gone from my life. Even on the instruments that I studied (piano and bass) for years and years, I couldn't get the feel for what I was doing. Playing wasn't easy anymore, it was work, and it was hard. I had to learn to focus on hand position, and fingering - because it hurt if I didn't - and that took my focus away from the music. I had begun to play music from the head, and not from the heart, and it wasn't the same, didn't bring the same joy, peace, nor escape that it had always done. I bought the ukulele six years ago in the hopes that it would be easier to play, so that I would want to play more often. But I was still focused on the technical aspects and didn't let myself feel the music.

I learned to play a song on the ukulele for this challenge, but I also learned to let go of my insecurities about playing. I wasn't playing this for anyone but me, I didn't even record myself to share later. There was absolutely no reason to be worried about making mistakes. Here's the thing, though, I should never worry about making mistakes in music, or in life. I need to play and live more from the heart if I want the joy back. I need to learn to relax and enjoy the music. I still don't play as often as I'd like, but I play a lot more often than I used to.

Day 1 of the #40daysto40 #birthdaychallenge Madness

Day 1: April 12, 2017.
Challenge: Write thank-you cards to people who've inspired me


I decided to begin my birthday challenge with a shift of thinking. You see, I've spent most of my life focused on remembering the people that have hurt me, and caused me misery. I've spent most of my thinking about blame, and how it's not my fault that I'm stupid, and ugly, and nobody will ever love me. These thoughts are damaging, and they have stopped me from being happy. They have prevented me from remembering who I am meant to be. A big-time paradigm shift was in order. I made a list of people in my life who have made a difference to me. These people have done their best, in spite of my efforts to dissuade them, to convince me that I am wonderful, talented, kind, beautiful, and, perhaps most importantly, worthy of love. I have been brought back from the depths of despair by these wonderful people in my life, and I needed to tell them how much their love and support means to me.

The other reason that I decided to write thank-you cards is that is was always something my mother did. No matter how small the act was, Mom wrote a thank-you note to show her appreciation. She tried to teach that a grateful heart is a happy heart. Focusing on my gratitude for the incredible people in my life has helped greatly to overshadow the grief and pain brought by the memories of those that have hurt me, and to even be grateful for the lessons I've learned from the pain. It has helped me to be more grateful in general and to focus on the positive things in my life.

40 days to 40 and how it Changed My Life

     A few months ago I left the thirties behind me as I celebrated my 40th birthday. It was a huge milestone in my life for a lot of reasons, but mostly because I decided to start living. I was tired of being tired all the time, tired of feeling sorry for myself, tired of feeling lonely, bored, and depressed. I needed to make some changes. What better time than to do it than on the cusp of a new decade of life? So I began to think about things that I'd always wanted to do, but never dared to. I began to think about times in my life when things were going particularly well for me, and what I was doing then to make things better. After much pondering and research, I came up with the idea of doing a birthday challenge. Since I was turning 40, I would make it a 40 day challenge - 40 days to my 40th birthday. I created a list, and recruited my sister's help to generate ideas of things that I could do.

     Each of the 40 days leading up to my birthday I did something from the list. Some of the things were easy, and some were hard, but they all challenged me in ways that I hadn't allowed myself to be challenged before. I started to change. I became more confident, more understanding, more relaxed. I became less bothersome, less self-absorbed, less depressed. There are still times that I struggle with the new me - change is hard - but I'm finally becoming the person that I was meant to be: happy! Every day I find things to be grateful for. I'm not afraid to do things anymore, things like call the doctor's office, or say hello to strangers, or go to something by myself. I'm sure of who I am, and what I want, and the things that I like and don't like. I've given up, mostly, the idea that I have to be someone else's version of perfect to be accepted. I've learned to accept me the way I am. I've started taking care of myself (eating right and exercising) because I finally understand that I am worth the effort it takes to be healthy even if I don't lose weight as a by-product (but I have lost weight).

     Changes continue to happen in my life, and I still have moments, and even days, of complete stress and anxiety. I've been struggling a little of late with some of the changes, and what is happening in my little world. So, I thought it would be a good idea, and a good time, to chronicle my 40 days to 40 adventures, and really think about the effect they've had on my life so that I can continue on the path of confidence and happiness. 

What if?

Do you ever find yourself playing the what if game? What if I won a million dollars? What if I could eat whatever I wanted all day, and still get skinny? What if I didn't go to work today, just stayed in bed? What if I never find someone to love? What if I drive into oncoming traffic? I know, a little extreme. But what if?

I've struggled for a very long time with depression. It hurts physically. When I'm in a low spot, I have a hard time moving: my head starts pounding, my teeth ache, my arthritis pain seems to multiply to the point where every movement is excruciating, my fingers swell, my neck kinks, and so on. Depression hurts emotionally, too: I relive all my worst memories, I imagine all my worst scenarios, the loneliness and emptiness envelop me to the point where the idea of continuing to exist is excruciating.

Luckily for me, I've always had the presence of mind to realize that this is depression. That if I wait long enough, I will feel better. It's never really completely crippled me before. I've never acted on my impulse to drive into a telephone pole, or step in front of a train; I know in my head that those choices are stupid, and would hurt more than help.

Let me make this perfectly clear: I am not suicidal, I do not want to die, I do not want to kill myself. I have just found my mind playing the "what if" game more and more. And what if, one day, I no longer have the presence of mind to say to myself "this is the depression talking, don't give in to it," what if?

About five years ago, I began to experience anxiety as a by-product of the depression. One might think that they would balance each other out, that the high pressure stress of anxiety could easily combat the lows of depression. This is not the case. Anxiety gives me more fear, more worry, and more what ifs. Anxiety feels like fear intensified, but an unknown fear. It's like I'm being chased by something horrible that I can't describe. I don't have any idea what it is, but I know it's bad. My chest tightens, my breath shallows, my pulse quickens, my senses go to high alert - everything is brighter and louder - and the worry consumes my thoughts. "What if," my brain starts wondering, "the people at the place think I'm horrible? What if they call me names, or make fun of me? What if they tell me I'm not good at anything? What if they throw things at me? What if they hurt me?" Although I know that these thoughts are ridiculous, that most people at most places are not like that, the thoughts terrify me.

Until now, I've always been able to combat these thoughts with a simple mental reminder: "this is the anxiety talking, don't give in to it." But last week, the anxiety won. For the first time that I can remember, the anxiety won. I drove to a place that I was supposed to be at, an orchestra rehearsal if you must know, which, by the by, I've always loved doing. I got there to the place and sat in my car. I literally could not make myself get out and go in. I sat arguing with myself for nearly 45 minutes:
"Just go in, it doesn't matter that you're late."
"Yes it will, everyone will hate me for interrupting."
"It won't make a difference, your instrument is needed."
"They have another bass player."
"If you don't go in, the conductor will hate you for backing out."
"They have another bass player, they don't need me, nobody needs me."
"The music makes your heart better, it will help you get over this."
"I can't, I can't, I just can't."
Then I cried, a lot. Then I started over with the conversation. My reasonable self trying to convince my anxiety-ridden self that I should go in and partake of the joy of making music. Anxiety won. Depression took over. I texted a lame excuse about getting lost to the conductor, and drove home, crying all the way. I wanted to be in the orchestra, I wanted to play music, I wanted to belong to a group. But I couldn't. For some reason, I just couldn't. And it was depressing.

Having texted the conductor, I figured that still left me an in if I could get myself to rehearsal again the next week. So, this week, on the day of the rehearsal I got up in the morning, packed up my bass so it would be ready to go when I got home from work, and thought "this is going to be great! I know the music, missing one rehearsal isn't a big deal, I played with them last year, and the conductor liked me enough to invite me back; this is going to be great!" All day long I looked forward to rehearsal. I hummed the music in my head. I practiced the fingerings on my desk. I was excited. As I began driving home from class, however, anxiety struck. My chest tightened, my breath shallowed, my pulse quickened, everything was louder and brighter. I recognized this: a panic attack. I started forcing deep breaths, I turned the radio to the classical station, I prayed. It wasn't until I told myself that I could stay at home that night that my body started to relax. Then I started to cry. I wanted to go, I needed to go, I would go! Then the anxiety happened again. A vicious cycle, the entire thirty-something minute drive home: anxiety and depression fighting  for mastery. Anxiety won, again. I was so panicky and stressed about going, that I couldn't go. So, I didn't go. I e-mailed the conductor, I told her I had some personal stuff going on that would make it impossible for me to participate in the orchestra this year. I asked her to forgive me for backing out of the commitment, and told her I hope she'd invite me again. Then I spent the evening at home, crying and praying, and I went to bed at eight; depression is exhausting.

I've thought about this experience a lot over the last couple of days since it happened. I imagine from the outside it seems that I'm weak. I don't have control over my mind and body. Problems like this are all in my head, right? Why can't I just do what I want to do? Why can't I control my thoughts? Why can't I just talk myself down? The thing is, though, I can't. And it's not for want of trying, either, believe me, I've tried. Anxiety and depression are real problems; only people who suffer with them can know the pain.

Right at this moment, I'm crippled. I can't go to places and do things, because my body thinks that's an excuse to panic, to shut down. This triggers the depression, and makes me uncontrollably sad. Did you get that? Uncontrollably. I can't control it. I want to, I try to, but I can't. I'm getting help. I'm seeing a doctor, I'm taking medication, I'm researching remedies. I will get better, but right now I'm sick, and the things I need most are less judgment and more kindness.

Sweet Sixteen and Never Been Kissed

Partly because I was sick this week, but mostly because I secretly love them, I watched a lot of silly movies over my Christmas vacation. Most of them were holiday themed, because I'm just that cheesy, but some were silly without a theme. One of the movies that I watched was about this 16-year old girl who had never been kissed. Been there, done that. Granted, growing up in Utah, most of my friends could say the same thing. As the movie progressed, however, and the girl became increasingly upset with her friend that was trying to find her someone to kiss, I started thinking about my own romantic escapades, or rather the lack thereof. This year I will turn 36, and the last time I kissed someone I was 20. Sixteen years. Sixteen long and lonely years. It's kind of like being 16 again, 16 and never been kissed.

Most of the time I'm OK with the lonely; I'm kind of a pro at it. I like being able to what I want, when I want, and not have to clean up after anyone else. I don't have to trust anyone else with my happiness, nor try to be responsible for keeping someone else happy. I imagine that lonely works well for selfish people. Unfortunately, I don't think that we're meant to go through life so alone. Yes, it's good to have friends, and my family is terrific, when they're around, but sometimes I want to not come home to nobody. Sometimes I want so badly to be in a relationship that I fantasize about it: I imagine myself meeting Josh Groban, or Ryan Gosling, or some other equally talented and gorgeous man, and they, of course, fall madly in love with me at first sight and convince me that their life was incomplete until the moment they found me. Maybe I watch too many silly movies...

Or, maybe, I've finally reached a point in my life where my heart is ready to start trusting again. After all that I've been through and learned, maybe it's time to let go of the past and look toward the future. So, at the dawn of this new year, I am going to start doing just that. I am going to let go. I am going to let myself fall. I am going to let myself trust. It will be scary. It will be hard. But it will be amazing. I'm not expecting to find someone to share the rest of forever with right away, I need to fix a few more things about me first, but I am expecting to let me be me, and let the chips fall where they may.

From this point forward I do not care what anyone else thinks of me. I am beautiful, and talented, and brilliant, and I will do all in my power to develop those gifts that God has given me. I am going to take care of my body because I am worth the effort required to do it. I am going to sing, and dance, and play every day because I can. I am going to spend less time playing facebook games and spend more time face to face with the people I love. This is it, this is now, this is me: sweet sixteen and never been kissed!