The Difference between Judgement and Compassion

Judgement. Something that I completely hate that others do. In fact, the premise of this blog is to counteract the judgement that so many feel towards those with invisible illnesses - and the judgement that is felt by those individuals.

However, judgement is an aspect of my life that I hate, but have a hard time overcoming. (See my 9.16.19 post about this: https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2019/09/judging.html.) 

I judge so much - I judge the food I eat; I judge the work I've done; I judge how I act (and how much I fail). After all, I'm not only the most important peson in the world, I'm always right.

(God, forgive me!)

In case this is your first post, something you need to know is that I deal with bipolar type 2 as well as having other mental health issues. One of the effects of all this is latching onto a topic and not letting go until I've completely exhausted learning about it. YouTube is my best friend in this pursuit (or my worst enemy, depending on your perspective.)

Sometimes I don't even know how I started with a new topic. (I guess I can thank the almighty YouTube's algorithm.) But sometime this past month I started watching actual court proceedings. 

The main topic that drew me there was watching a video about a "SovCit" (sovereign citizen). This is a group of people who feel that the government doesn't have any control over them. They have a completely crazy script they use, especially during a traffic stop or in a court hearing. I advise looking them up if you are even a little bit interested, as it really is fascinating.

This led to more generic court hearings - about "Karens," spoiled brats, or, on the flip side, compassion showed within some of the courts hearings. 

Sprinkled in with these were some regular court hearings - all kinds of cases like landlord disputes, custody issues, and, of course, various criminal matters.

One day I saw one of those videos and the judge allowed the defendent to share her story. I really felt for her. In my humble opinion, she wasn't completely responsible for what she did. I think that she had some mental health issues that affected her thought processes and actions.

I later told my husband about that case and I was trying to justify how I felt compassion for her when I laughed at and judged some of the others. (I already confessed that I struggle with this so don't judge - lol!)

It was then that I had an epiphany. The difference between those I made fun of and that one young girl was that I heard her backstory. I knew how she got to where she currently was. I could identify with some of the thiings that had happened to her and recognized that "except for the grace of God go I." 

It changed everything. I still judge, unfortunately, but I'm better about pausing and thinking about why someone is doing what they are doing, not just judging their actions.

So, when you start to judge, try to stop for a moment and think about the why and not just the what that person is doing. After all, the difference between judgement and compassion is simply knowing someone's backstory.

Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD), Part 2

Note: If you want to read the background on how I got to this realization, find and read my post titled "Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD), Part 1."

So... to pick up where I left off, the thrush and gastroperesis were gone but my taste buds never came back completely. I was able to eat a greater variety of foods but there are still some that still don't taste right 6 months since I stopped the treatment.

The worst ones are chocolate, anything tomato based (ketchup, salsa, pasta sauce...), some ways chicken is prepared, and potatoes. Do you know how many foods are made with one of those things? I didn't realize until this happened. 

The first time I braved going out to eat, I insisted on going to a Chinese buffet. There were too many foods I didn't like and I didn't want to buy a meal (a splurge right now because we still haven't gotten caught up from the months of Dad's illness, death and my illnesses) that I wouldn't be able to eat.

At a buffet I could get a bite or two of all kinds of foods and see what I liked. 

That first time, I realized lo mein and the crab/cheese bake were okay and sesame chicken and egg rolls (former favorites) weren't. Sushi, something I had grown to like in the last few years, was a food I "lost" (as I called it). Other lost Chinese foods I previously loved were coconut shrimp, crab legs, and mongolian beef.

One major result of this issue was the fast food and quick meal impact. No longer could I run by McDonald's and get a cheap burger and fries in the middle of a day of errands. I couldn't make a sandwich and chips - the sandwich was incredibly boring not liking any condiments and the chips were potato based.

Losing chocolate was a bummer. As a food addict, though I was doing better than ever from working with a nutritionist, I still often gravitated to carbs, especially chocolate when stressed or depressed. Of course, all this made me even more stressed and depressed, so it was a rough time.

However, even though this has been incredibly diificult to adapt to, there has been one really good consequence - I've been losing weight without trying. Not only were there less foods I liked but during the time I had gastroperesis, my stomach shrank. I started only being able to eat about half of a meal before I was full.

Okay... FINALLY I'm getting to the point of this two-part post - body dysmorphic disorder.

I haven't weighed in years. The few times I had to weigh for medical reasons (surgery, etc) and worked hard to not see the number but saw it anyway put me into a deep depression.

So I don't know how many pounds I've lost. But my clothes started hanging on me. 

A couple of weeks ago I got brave enough to pull out the clothes I haven't been able to wear  for about 6-7 years - and they mostly fit. (Because my body shape has changed, some shirts were still tight but most weren't.)

Once I started noticing the change, I got excited - then became terrified. One of the reasons I haven't tried to lose weight for the past decade or so is because every time I was successful, I'd gain it back - and more. What if this was another short-term weight loss? What if I hoped that I might actually become somewhat normal only to have that hope bashed?

I started paying more attention to my weight. I started noticing how my clothes fit. In fact, it was more than paying attention/noticing... I started obsessing over it.

Some days I felt "skinny" (a perspective thing, as I still am waaaay overweight) and others I felt like I hadn't lost any. 

But weight doesn't fluctuate like that - not that much. 

And this was when I had an epiphany. The term "body dysmorphia" popped into my mind. I learned about it when I did all of the research about my daughter's and my newly recognized eating disorders.

According to Dr Google, body dysmorphia disorder (BDD) is "a mental health condition in which you can't stop thinking about one or more perceived defects or flaws in your appearance - a flaw that appears minor or can't be seen by others. But you may feel so embarrassed, ashamed, and anxious that you may avoid many social situations."

It's sometimes called "phantom fat" or "phantom fat disorder" and another symptom is people who have lost weight still perceiving themselves as very large or heavy.

This is the main symptom that I recognized that morning. Since then, I've done more research and I realize I have some of the other symptoms. 

I always thought that the way to overcome an eating disorder - and the way to see that you've succeeded - was to change your eating habits. I totally forgot that the psychology behind having an eating disorder is not only the cause, but part of the cure.

There's more work to be done, but at least I'm back on the path to making it happen.

Body Dysmorphic Disorder (BDD), Part 1

I've known I have an eating disorder for about 5-6 years now. I've had weight issues my whole life and knew I wasn't "normal." After analyzing it more, I feel I was born with it - or got it very soon after. 

It was an essay I found in my baby book that proved that I haven't been a typical eater since I was a toddler. My older brother (nine years older) had a class assignment where he wrote about his "My Red-headed Little Sissy."

This was when I was about 2 years old.

One of the main points he had was how if someone went to the kitchen, I "burned the soles off my shoes" getting to the kitchen in case someone was eating.

That's just not normal.

However, I didn't know that someone overweight could have an eating disorder - I had the stereotypical perception of an eating disorder as someone who starved, threw up, and/or excessively exercised until my daughter, also overweight, was diagnosed with one (I can't remember the exact name so I won't list it until I confirm it with her.)

When she realized she had an eating disorder and went to treatment for it, I started learning as much as I could about the condition. 

But explaining symptoms, types, etc isn't the reason for this article.

It's about something I recently realized about myself.

A little background...

In November 2023, I got a TERRIBLE case of thrush. My dad had been in the hospital for a couple of months at this point and wasn't doing well. By the time he passed away, I wasn't able to talk. I had what could be best called sores all over the inside of my mouth.

I also wasn't able to eat. It hurt but mostly it was strange. Nothing tasted right. Actually, at that time, there was almost no flavor at all. 

I had no idea where to go for treatment - or if there was even a treatment available. I asked Dr Google more than once. When I still hadn't gotten rid of it a few months later (February 2024), my husband mentioned that an ENT might be able to help. 

Thankfully, I had one already established. It took no time for me to make an appointment.

I got there and yes, it was officially thrush. My heart was beating fast while nervously waiting to hear if there was a medicine or something would help.

There was. He told me about a special compounded (which means the pharmacist combined drugs to make it) mouthwash. I had to swish it for 30 seconds twice a day. 

Though it didn't taste horrible, it didn't taste good. Each morning and evening I had psych myself up in order to take it. It took getting to the bottom of the bottle for it to start working. 

I was so glad to not have to do it any more! I was so ready to get my taste buds back.

Time passed. During my Dr Google search, I saw that it's very easy for it to return. The pessimistic part of me meant that every day I woke up scared it was coming back.

On the other hand, my optimistic side was simply excited to gain my taste buds back. I wanted to be able to eat normally again so much.

The thrush cleared up completely. It never come back. But my taste buds didn't - at least not for a while.

Part 2 of my issue occurred later that month. My doctor had put me back on Ozempic after being off of it for over a year (through my insistence). Somehow, though, he missed how long it had been since I took it so I didn't start off slowly. 

I started back with the strongest dose right away. 

Time passed and I still couldn't eat. My taste buds started to slowly heal so that wasn't the cause. Foods started to taste a little better but I couldn't get anything down. 

No matter how hungry I was, I couldn't eat more than a few bites of food at a time. There were many times that when I tried to take one more bite, I would chew it up and have to spit it out. I just couldn't swallow it.

It was so strange to have hunger pains, to be weak from hunger, to want to eat so much - but not be able to.

At first I didn't attribute this to Ozempic. I wondered if, even though the thrush was visibly gone, there was something else about it that made me not be able to eat.

It took two doses of the Ozempic before I put two and two together. Dr Google told me that one of the side effects was gastroparesis, which it defines as a "long-term condition that causes food to move through the stomach more slowly than normal. It occurs when the stomach muscles that push food through the digestive tract become weakened or impaired."

Symptoms include: nausea, vomiting, bloating, belching, upper abdominal pain, feeling full soon after starting a meal, heartburn, and poor appetite.

I had every single one of the symptoms. 

I never got an official diagnosis. Once I looked up the tests a diagnosis took, I thought I'd try something first - stopping the Ozempic.

Dr Google told me that it took about 5 weeks for the Ozempic to fully leave my system. Hope came back. 

I started ticking off the days, the whole time nervous that it wouldn't work. 

The 5-week mark came and went. It was a little better but I still couldn't eat. 

Another week and it was still improving but the symptoms were still not completely gone.

However... I kept improving. 

However... months later the symptoms still weren't gone.

Stay tuned for Part 2 where I get into what I've recently realized about Body Dysmorphic Disorder.

Accomplishment Boards to Combat Discouragement

As someone with depression, anxiety, bipolar, and many physical issues, it's easy to get discouraged. It's easy to feel like nothing is going right, that no matter how hard I work, I'm never going to really be able to make this work.

So one day I took an idea a friend had and morphed it into my accomplishment boards. I bought a big magnetic whiteboard, one with a nice black wooden frame. On it I put credentials I had obtained, programs from events I shot and/or covered, tickets that were complimentary because of doing an article on someone, and similar items.

At first, it felt like it was futile. There wasn't much to put on there. There was a lot of white showing.

Then it started filling up. I had to layer items. I had to put multiple lanyards with credentials on hooks. I had to take some of the less noteworthy items off.

I decided to buy another matching whiteboard. 

I divided my stacked items and placed them on the second display.

Once again there was a lot of white shining through.

But I went back and updated this post today. Now there are many, many items on my accomplishment boards. In fact, there are so many that it's almost impossible to put something new on without knocking something old off. I now have a basket I keep everything on. 

I really need a new whiteboard but there's literally no space to hang it in my study. One day I might move things around and take down a picture or two to make space for another one.

But for now, my main goal is to at least occasionally take the time to remember about all that white showing through at first, and how much it's changed - one event/photoshoot/article at a time.

If you get discouraged easily, think about getting an accomplishment board, a star chart (I've done that recently too - to record workouts), or something else that is a reminder that even though there's not much to show of a goal at first, if you keep working on it, chances are good that it will fill up.

And so will you.

Some of my big accomplishments as of 8.18.23 (the last time I tried to list them)

Photography

-        Over 150 original photos published online and in print

-        Had an original photo featured in a national training book for Lifetouch/Shutterfly

-       Featured photographer for local print magazine

-       Received local and national recognition, including two photos chosen as winners in The Birmingham      View Photo Challenge

-      Noteworthy sporting event shoots:

o   The World Games

o   USL and Women’s Premiere League soccer          

o   MLB major and minor league baseball                    

o   MBA G-league basketball                                          

o   NCAA Division I and Division III football                  

o   USFL football

o   High school football

o   High school volleyball                                                  

o   IndyCar                                                                          

o   NASCAR

o   MotoAmerica                                                                   

o   WERA                                                                                

o   SPHL ice hockey                                                               

o   Collegiate women’s gymnastics                           

o   Paraclimbing Nationals                                     

o   Wheelchair Rugby International                          

o   Local 5K races                                                             

o   US floorball                                                                                                                     

-          Noteworthy performance shoots:

o   K-Love Fan Awards Weekend and Red Carpet

o   Darci Lynne, America’s Got Talent winner

o   Winter Jam

o   StarDome Comedy Club featuring Mickey Bell & Eunice Elliott

o   Dancing with the Stars of the Magic City

o   Arangetrams and other local dance recitals

o   The Thorn

-          Noteworthy editorial shoots:

o   Southern Baptist Convention 2019

o   Baptist World Alliance and Baptist World Alliance Women’s Conferences

Writing

-          Over 250 distinct articles published online and in print

-          Won local and national awards, including a grand prize award

-          Writing published in three books (might be four soon)

-          Noteworthy interviews/articles:

o   Jinger Duggar Vuolo of 19 Kids and Counting

o   Darci Lynne, America’s Got Talent winner

o   Jon Erwin, award-winning producer, writer, director

o   Simon Lythgoe, award-winning producer of So You Think You Can Dance, American Idol

o   Michael Jr, comedian

o   Barbara Cross, child of 16^th Street’s Baptist’s pastor who lived through the bombing

o   Scott Wesley Brown

o   Chonda Pierce, comedian

o   Jeanne Robertson, comedian

o   Jake Rufe, Birmingham Legion USL soccer player

o   Sting Ray Robb, rookie IndyCar driver

o   Chris and Nik Nikic, 1^st person with Down Syndrome to complete a Triathlon

 

My Floaters Story (Eye Floaters)

This is my story about eye floaters. It's one of those things that some would chalk up to circumstance... I feel it's God who led to me to a doctor who could fix something that was not only a big annoyance, but interfered with work and life.

I'm a photographer and a writer. My eyes are really important to me. Visual acuity is important to me. Not seeing things that aren't there is also important to me.

Rewind back to Christmas Eve 2022. I wasn't feeling well (it turns out I had the flu and was in the hotel room all day instead of hanging out with my husband's family) but I just thought I was tired at the time.

I started seeing flashes of light in my peripheral vision of my left eye. I sometimes have visual migraines, so I thought it had to do with that, even though this wasn't what typically happens to me with a migraine.

I took some ibuprofen and tried to rest - and not worry. After a while, when my anxiety started ramping up about what was going on, I did some online research (after all, it was Christmas Eve… no doctors) to make sure it wasn't something I needed to deal with immediately.

Thankfully, it wasn't. 

Then I noticed the floaters. I didn't think too much about them at first. I've had floaters before. Never this many or this big, but it's not a new thing.

I really thought they would go away... that they would be reabsorbed (do they do that?) or my brain would learn to ignore them. More research found that usually in six months they would either go away or be bearable to deal with. 

My online searches also revealed a few over-the-counter therapies I could try with no risk. When there was no change after a couple of months, I chose a supplement - L-Theanine - to try. 

It didn't help. I was already taking some other OTC supplements for my eye health since my cataract surgery so I stopped there.

After six months, I went to my eye doctor and asked if there was anything that could be done. He said that eventually my brain should adjust. He may have mentioned laser therapy but if he did, he also discouraged me from going that route. I simply remember leaving the office dejected, with no hope.

Because living with it was the only option I seemed to have, I did so. It got in the way of making my living as a photographer, but what could I do? I had to keep going. Besides, with only one eye affected, I kept in mind that it could have been worse.

Fast-forward to January 2024… It got worse. 

The same thing happened in my right eye. At least this time it wasn't accompanied with the fear of the earlier instance. I knew the signs that indicated if I needed to go to the doctor/ER and I wasn't "seeing" any of them.

More floaters followed. It became harder and harder to ignore them at this point. It affected editing photos and writing more than anything because when I work, I stare at two extra-large monitors. The floaters are worse when you dart your eyes from side to side, which I do constantly when I'm on the computer.

However, though work was affected the most overall, what is really unnerving is the peripheral vision issues. So many times, I would think someone had come up beside me, only to find it was a floater. When driving, I had to be extra careful to make sure the lane was clear (thankfully, I have lane assist with my car!) because a floater could look like a vehicle coming up.

This issue is the biggest problem when I'm doing a photography shoot. I use my peripheral vision a lot while my face is plastered against the viewfinder. Not knowing whether something is real or not in your outer vision gets to you after a while - and makes concentrating on taking photos harder than usual.

Speaking of "getting to you," there's one more reason that I am having a hard time with these little black specks - my mental health. I don't have a diagnosis of OCD, but I definitely have some obsessions and compulsions. These and my other mental health issues make it really difficult to ignore the floaters and they can increase my anxiety (which is regularly high already). 

Then, on a fluke, my mom had an optical issue where she needed a retinal specialist. I had no idea this kind of doctor existed! I took her to the specialist and realized that they might be able to help me.

Asking the tech, she told me that not only did they deal with floaters, the doctor we were seeing had a special interest in them. She added that he had developed a website - www.floaterstories.com - that explains what's going on, its history, the impact of floaters on everyday life, and, obviously, stories from those who have experienced them.

I now knew I had at least a chance of getting rid of them. So I made an appointment.

During the appointment, after several tests to measure my acuity and the number of floaters I have, I waited nervously for the verdict.

He told me what I had feared - that he had seen much worse. However, he went on to say that a condition like this doesn't have a clinical guideline to show definitively whether or not a person should have surgery. It depends on the person and how much the floaters negatively impact his/her life. 

So, I was the one who got to choose. (HUGE sigh of relief!)

Needless to say (but I'm saying it anyway), I'm choosing surgery. There is a risk with any surgery, but I feel that the possibility of being free of these annoying distractions will be worth it.

Fast forward to the surgery on my left eye.

Because I have generalized anxiety disorder, I was nervous going into the surgery, but I was sure of Dr Morris' experience and I knew he would do everything possible to make it successful. 

Of course, there's always a risk so I couldn't be certain it would be okay. However, there's risk walking up and down stairs, traveling to a doctor's appointment, or even eating a thick, perfectly cooked steak. Everything in life has risk.

I had no doubt that in this case, the reward definitely outweighed the risk.

It only took about 24 hours after the surgery to know I was right.

First, the pre-operative instructions were thorough and even though I usually question everything, I didn't have any questions. The directions to the surgical center were complete. I had all of the information I needed to have the procedure without an issue.

Then, Callahan Eye Hospital was amazing - from check-in to recovery. I joked with the nurses who took care of me that I wanted all of my future surgeries there, even if they had nothing to do with my eyes.

Part of it could have been because I was one of the first patients that day, but they got me ready quickly. I was able to have my husband with me while I waited and they even gave me something for anxiety when it got close to time to take me back. 

The surgery didn't take long before I was in recovery. Just like recovery from any procedure that involves anesthesia, I was groggy. I got the typical crackers and soda and then my husband came back to help me get dressed.

Because I woke up with a shield taped over my eye, I didn't know if it "worked." I was told that it could feel a little gritty, like I had something in my eye. When this was the case with me, already knowing it was a possibility assured me that it wasn't a problem.

After I got home, I rested a lot, but honestly, I felt fine. Surgery is always a nice excuse to have someone else take care of you, so I didn't push it (which is what the doctors always recommend anyway). 

The next morning, I had my follow-up appointment and finally got to take off the shield. It worked! My vision in that eye was completely clear - and I didn't even have the slight blurriness that I had been told is a small possibility until your vision settles.

The recovery period involved wearing a shield at night the first week (which was annoying to deal with but not difficult), two different eye drops on a varying schedule (thank goodness for phone alarms), and having a few restrictions like a weight-bearing limit and no heavy chores (oh, darn!)

But all of this was extremely worth it. I don't regret doing this for even a minute. There were only slight inconveniences I had to deal with - and, once again, I emphatically state that the risk was worth the reward.

I immediately knew I wanted to get the right eye fixed so I talked to Dr Morris about it. He wanted me to give it some time and make sure I wanted to risk the surgery again. I knew what I wanted, but waited like he said to do (not like I had a lot of choice – lol).

When I compared eyes, though the left had been worse than the right, with more abundant and darker floaters, the floaters in my right eye were still hampering work and my life in general.

Maybe it's because after the first surgery I was constantly comparing the eye with floaters to an eye with no issues. 

Maybe it's because the floaters seemed to be wispy and larger - not quite as noticeable but more in the way of getting clear vision.

Maybe it's because I use my left eye to see things clearly far away and my right eye for close-up vision (it may sound weird, but your brain adjusts to it). My theory is that my brain has a harder time going back and forth between near and far vision and compensating for it with the floaters in only one eye - but I could be wrong with that.

No matter the reason, it's interesting (and kind of strange) when I again realized it's much more annoying to have floaters in one eye than when I had floaters in both.

Remember that I'm a professional photographer and writer. I need clear vision, especially for editing photos. Before, with floaters in both eyes, the movement of the floaters darting in and out of my vision was annoying.

Now, with my close-up eye having these blur-inducing floaters, it's more than an annoyance. I literally can't see clearly a lot of the time when working. I've found that if I hold my head still and don't move my eyes around, I can see clearly (like when being asked to read an eye chart). 

But in real life, I'm constantly looking around. The floaters' appearances make work and simply living everyday life much more difficult than it needs to be. 

I've been through it before. I knew the risks – but I also knew the rewards. I was very blessed that the rewards outweighed the risks in my first floaters removal surgery.

I was more than willing to risk it again for the second. 

Clear vision is important to everyone but for me, it not only affects my life, but it also really affects my job. I wanted to do whatever it took to get back to where I could see the way I could before all this happened.

So, during a follow-up visit about my left eye, I once again asked Dr Morris about the right eye. We discussed it some and he asked me to make an appointment to look more into what was going on in that eye.

I went into the appointment with the same anxiety I had the first time at this point in the process. Would he think it was bad enough to risk surgery once again? Would I have to learn to live with it?

A small complication came up around this time. The day before my second follow-up for my left eye, I had a floater reappear. It was very different than what I had before. It was always a tiny and circular, sometimes looking like a bullseye target, sometimes two circles, sometimes a black dot. All the ones before were long and skinny or wispy like lace.

However, it wasn’t always there. 

When I talked to Dr Morris about it (from what I remember), he told me that it was because, due to the delicate nature of the surgery, they had to err on the side of caution and sometimes weren’t able to completely clear up the issue. 

Even with my left eye not being completely floater free, I knew I was still very willing to get the surgery done on my right eye.

As I suspected, my amazing experience at Callahan Eye Hospital wasn’t quite as amazing as the first time, as I wasn’t the first patient there this time. It was still great but I did have to wait a little longer than the first time.

The healing was also different. The first time I felt the gritty feeling they mentioned in my left eye. With my right, it didn’t feel gritty; it felt sore. But after a few days it was back to normal.

I had to do the drops like before, which wasn’t fun to try to remember, but wasn’t difficult. I also had the same weight and activity restrictions as before to deal with.

But I didn’t care one bit about these inconveniences because my second surgery was even more successful than the first. Not one even teeny tiny floater has shown up – and as of this writing, it’s over a month since the surgery and not one issue has come up.

The little dot/circle/bullseye in my left eye comes and goes. It goes much more than it comes and it’s not bad to deal with. I have hope that eventually it will settle out of my central vision and/or my brain will eventually block it out. 

But even if it doesn’t get better, I wouldn’t change a thing. Sometimes I look around and I’m just so thankful that I was able to find Dr Morris and have these surgeries. They have made my life so much better… there aren’t enough words to express my gratitude.

Trying Something New (AKA Attempting Something Very Old Again)

 Tonight I did something that I haven't done in YEARS - playing a keyboard. Back in the day (when I walked 5 miles in the snow to and from school - uphill both ways) I was pretty good at keyboard. I took piano for about seven years as a child but never really played after my last lesson.

But I was good at complimenting the instuments in the worship teams I played with. I played filler strings, low bass, etc. I also played rhythm acoustic guitar or sometimes filler there too. Kind of like the keyboard, I had my niche and I didn't sway from it. I didn't play an electric guitar; I didn't play lead. 

I wasn't great at it, but I was pretty darn good at those things. Playing with worship teams was part of my identity. In fact, the email address I concocted with the help of a friend was based on my love of guitar: harpofworship. It was based on the fact that a harp is just a more elaborate stringed instrument than a guitar.

Years passed... The churches I went to either died or moved locations far from me. I got cynical when church after church added to my hurt. Becoming a part of a worship team became a part of my past. I gave my beloved white thin-bodied Alverez Yairi and my keyboard to my daughter and put my even more beloved amazing-sounding full-bodied Takamini in its case and set it aside.

When I met my husband and found out he had also been a part of worship teams in his past, it became a dream/goal to hopefully play together on a team. But over the years we have been together, different attempts have failed for various reasons (adding to the earlier mentioned hurt, by the way). 

But a little more than a month ago, we started going to a new church. The band was the style both of us had played with before. Best of all, they didn't have anyone playing percussion and my husband, a drummer who really liked to play percussion, was able to fill a need.

We talked to the worship leader about it and were a little bit surprised when he said this was a possibility. My husband told him he played percussion and I told him I played keyboard and guitar. I was nervous about saying that, since it had been so long, but I thought it would come back. Other times in my life I had put the instruments down and was able to pick them up and play like I hadn't stopped.

The worship leader told us that we could start practicing with the team and maybe in a few months, we might start playing. It was amazing when, to our surprise, after only practicing two weeks, he was asked to start playing during the service.

Meanwhile, I had shared with the worship leader what my real passion was - to sign during worship. All of my years of learning sign off and on had finally come together and signing worship songs is something I feel I might can be successful at.

I was shocked when the worship leader asked me what my passion was to do with the team. He used the word "passion." Just a few days before I had been telling that signing during worship was something I was passionate about. So I was incredibly, incredibly excited when I felt free to share that passion with him.

He didn't seem very enthusiastic at first but as I explained what I was thinking, he seemed to think it could be a good thing. He told me that he needed to talk to the pastor.

So the wait began...

The pastor was out of town the next week for his wedding anniversary. I was really encouraged by something a worship team member told me about signing. Then he was really busy with family obligations when he got home. I was resigned to wait.

This morning my wait was partially over. I texted the worship leader about something else and he mentioned that they had talked. By this point, I was really expecting a "yes." (You know what they say about expectations!)

It wasn't a yes. It wasn't a no. I was a "the jury is still out."

I cried. Yes, I know it wasn't a no, and honestly, a no at the moment doesn't mean a no forever. For one thing, it means that my waiting isn't over (and I hate waiting!)

But the biggest issue is that it may mean that once again my dreams about once again being part of a worship team might not happen.

So while I was crying, I tried to not catastrophize/spiral into that pit. I reminded myself that maybe if the signing thing didn't work out, maybe that would give me a chance to play keyboard and/or guitar again.

Well, I got to the church early tonight so I could practice before the main practice. I felt like a dinosaur. The keyboard is a lot more high-tech than I expected and even though I didn't dare mess with any settings, it was a little intimidating. 

Then I just couldn't seem to figure out what to play. About halfway through the time I had pre-practice, I realized what was wrong - the entire time I played, I used paper chords charts. I wrote like crazy over those things with notes about what I worked out.

I was using my phone for both the chord chart and for the music, which meant that any time I needed to go back to a certain part to practice it over and over, I had to close one screen and open another. I couldn't write on it. I was straining to even see the little print.

It was all I could do to not lose it completely and run crying out of the sanctuary. 

I'm trying to be optimistic about the whole thing - similar to what I said earlier, just because I couldn't get it tonight doesn't mean I never will. Just because when I picked up my guitar I realized I'm too overweight to play it doesn't mean that I'll never be able to (after all, I am losing weight now). Just because "the jury is still out" right now doesn't mean the jury might not come in with a favorable verdict. 

But right now it hurts. I want to just give up. On top of it, I'm watching my husband play with the team. I'm so happy for him - and so jealous, I almost can't stand it. I'm listening to songs about how good God is. At the moment, I know in my heart that He's good but I don't feel like He is. 

To top it off, I can't seem to sign. I keep getting "hand-tied" (a made-up word I use for the signed version of tongue-tied). I feel like I can't get anything right tonight. I just want to go home and cry myself to sleep - and hope that tomorrow is better, either in being able to do this after all or having a better attitude about it. 

No Longer Afraid... A Follow-up

As always, I can't ever believe it when I once again get back to this blog, months have passed. I need to get past the need to apologize, but it's a compulsion. 

So, I'm sorry it's been so long. And, like I always say, I'll try harder to post more consistently.

(But both you know and I know that this won't happen.😏)

If you aren't a regular reader of this blog, go back and look up my "No Longer Afraid" posts. There are four parts: part 1, part 2, part 3a and part 3b. You'll need that background to understand what I'm writing here.

Okay... so it's been over a year since I wrote those posts, sharing what happened in the hardest time of my life and admitting/confessing what I did to cause it all. 

I finished the first post of that series with these words: "I'm finally free." I'm still free, but I'm still human. The anxiety/fear still rears its ugly head on a regular basis. There are a lot of issues where I still have walls up. 

But... God... 

Even with all of my failings, mess-ups, and frankly, crap, He hasn't given up on me (even those times I've almost completely given up on myself.)

There are some subjects that I've wanted to write about but haven't. So I'm going to sum up some really amazing stuff that God did in me to get me here. It shouldn't be summed up - there are a lot of really cool details - but I need to get to what happened today, so I'll sum up anyway.

- At K-Love this year, God did a work on my heart. After years and years of having a massive wall and being completely against going to church, I left the weekend wanting to find a church and attending.

- So, I wanted to find a church. But how does one do that outside of recommendations of family or friends? That was a dead end. I use the mighty Google for any other search, so of course I thought about doing a web search. But churches are so personal and websites are so sterile... how would I find one that way?

- I thought I might as well try. What would it hurt? I don't even remember the search parameters I put in, but whatever I used brought up just under a million options. (It's the South, remember?) 

(I just realized that this is NOT summing up.)

- Anyway, I clicked on a website or two then saw one that intrigued me: A2 Church. I looked at their website, and it wasn't that different than others, but something drew me to it. (Yes, yes, I know it was God.) I was even more intrigued and told my husband about it. 

- We skimmed through a video of a recent service and I started getting excited about this possibility. 

- But what's really just short of a miracle is that, when the next Sunday came, even after a really busy weekend where typically I would have easily made an excuse to stay in bed... me, a huge social anxiety sufferer... me, someone who usually avoids the church like the plaque... me a very tired, old, physically and emotionally exhausted human... woke up excited to attend the 9:30 (yes, I said, 9:30!) service.

Fast forward a few weeks to this past Sunday.

For reasons I simply don't have time to go into now (I'm already way past summarizing), for approximately the last twenty years, I have avoided holding babies like the plague. In addition, I've also avoided children because of "the incident." (See the first "No Longer Afraid" post). 

Even though I have led the children's ministry in a couple of churches in younger days, I've kept that information a tight-lipped secret from anyone in the few churches I've attended the past couple of decades - and became even tighter-lipped after "the incident."

Something happened this past Sunday. I saw a tiny baby in the aisle across from where I was sitting - and I actually wanted to hold that adorable infant. I had the thought, "Maybe I should volunteer for the nursery."

But my past was hanging over my head. What if they did a background check and found out what happened? It's not like I hurt anyone, but I lost my teaching license anyway. I was still terrified that I would be found out. It wasn't worth it.

Sometime during the "year of hell" (again, see earlier post), my best friend - who was also a teacher -  told me that she found out that there was a way to get my license back. Because undiagnosed mental health issues were at least some of the precipitating factors of "the incident," I could appeal to the administration using recommendations from mental health professionals I was seeing.

Ironically, for the first time ever, after seeing therapists for decades, my therapist just last week dismissed me. She said I'm doing amazingly well and that I don't need that intensive therapy any more. 

Go back to the Sunday service and seeing the baby. I immediately decided to research what it would really take to get my license back so that this fear would be gone forever. I had a burning desire to do it right then. I couldn't have put down my phone if it was on fire.

I found out what I needed to know - and realized it could still be a fight. I simply don't have the mental and physical capacity or the time and resources to dedicate to this venture right now. I don't want to teach again so it's really a matter of pride more than anything. 

I then decided to give up. I realized it didn't matter. It's not a big deal.

It was at that point that I finally tuned into the message...

... only to have my new pastor look my way and say, "You don't have to hide anymore."

Oh... my... gosh!!! What? Did he really just say that? 

I started bawling and as soon as the service was over, I rushed to talk to him. I was still somewhat blubbering so there was no way I could tell him what happened. I asked if there was a time this week we could meet.

About 3ish hours ago, I shared all this with him. And he didn't judge me! 

It never ceases to amaze me about what God has done - and what He is still doing every day - even to someone as messed up as me.