Adjusting Focus

In honor of National Eating Disorder Week, I wanted to share with you my recent experience with my eating disorder. I've struggled with an eating disorder since I was about 13 years old. With various mental health struggles hitting me hard with the start of quarantine and COVID-19, I decided to see a psychiatrist. I was given a new diagnosis (something I am not quite ready to delve into on here as I try to figure it out for myself), and new medication. This medication had a side effect of weight gain. I was hesitant to try it at first, knowing that I was still in recovery from my eating disorder and worried potential weight gain could trigger me. Still, I was desperate to sleep and stop oversleeping, to feel like my life had purpose again. Within a few weeks, I'd noticed weight gain as my jeans started to get tighter. I shed a lot of tears and hated getting ready to go to work. At the same time, I was feeling emotionally lighter, ready to face the world in front of me. After ca...

For a long time, I believed my religion was enough; it was all I needed in life. If all else failed, I had God. I had this organization I so devoutly believed in and followed. What I didn't realize was that the day would come I would feel this wasn't enough for me, that I was feeling isolated, resentful, and overall unhappy with where I was, and religion played a rather large part in that. And though I am much happier with where I am now, happy to be leading my life as an openly bisexual woman, leaving wasn't necessarily an easy choice. My therapist pointed out that I spent my entire life within this organization, and have only spent less than a year out of it. That meant my thinking wouldn't change over night, and it would take time. I expressed to her the guilt I often felt when I did the things I was always taught not to do-date women, for one, get tattoos, pierce my ears more than once, drink coffee, and a lot of other things, a lot of which are relatively small in ...

It's been a while since I've posted here. Quite frankly I've been in some very dark spots over the last little bit and my motivation to write has been almost non-existent. I've spent more days crying on the floor and more hours sleeping than I would like to admit. But, for the first time in a very long time, I felt a burst of inspiration. I'm reading " The Gifts of Imperfection " by Brené Brown. I'm currently on a "vulnerability/courage journey" so that I learn to stop hiding and running from my emotions, share those emotions with others, and also learn how to be more present when I am feeling good (I often find myself on edge, waiting for the next "bad" thing to happen to ruin the happiness I have). It's been very eye opening, terrifying, and uplifting. Once again, for the first time in a while, I'm getting new ideas and writing more. I take notes constantly. I also cry a lot still, and throw my own pity parties because I w...

Every night, I take some time to read poems from some of my favorite poetry books I have. I've been marking some that particularly stick out to me with sticky notes. My books end up looking pretty worn and messy, especially with bent edges of various colored sticky notes adorning their pages. One night, I sat staring at the book in front of me, and found beauty in the messiness I held. It was an unusual feeling, because anytime things are out of order or not perfect, I feel uneasy, frustrated, like the world is closing in around me. My mind is unable to focus on anything else until I feel settled. I wrote down several thoughts I had about my OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder) and how these sticky notes were some sort of symbol to me about overcoming my obsession with perfection. It rules pretty much every aspect of my life, but at the end of my notes I wrote, "OCD doesn't have to rule my love for poetry." I then wrote a poem with the opening line being, "Poetry ...

I've spent the last couple months constantly on the move. Nannying part-time, trying to get 250 hours done for my internship, maintaining my physical health, and trying to find moments to myself have kept me busy. For the most part, I've loved every second of it. I was starting to feel fulfilled in life, starting to become a version of myself I was happy with. There was a sense of freedom and belonging I hadn't felt in a long time. Coming out and getting away from Rexburg was a huge burden lifted. But I write to you at 4am because I feel heavy. We all know the state of the world right now. Honestly, for the most part I've been pretty calm about it. I'm trying my best to do my part in flattening the curve, staying safe, keeping myself informed, etc,. Amidst all the chaos, I've found joy in the newfound hours I get to write and play the piano. All the memes make life a little more bearable and keep me laughing. I've been working out in my room to keep my bod...

It was 7:30pm on a Monday when I was driving to my new apartment from my first day at my new internship. I honestly couldn't stop smiling. Salt Lake has already been a dream come true (minus the nasty pollution). Intern days are a little long sometimes, but I also love being there and come home feeling fulfilled. It makes me excited to continue in my education and career goals. I'm ready . As I've been thinking of what this next year will be, I recognize a lot of changes will be happening. First, my "big" move to Salt Lake and the start of my internship, then my graduation from BYU-Idaho in July. Other things are coming and also a lot of unknowns. I'm really excited for this year and everything that's ahead. Honestly, the last year was SO up and down. While grateful for those challenges and for all the good as well (because without it 'Bloom' wouldn't have happened), I'm ready for 2020. For once I feel like I have a solid foundation. I ha...

If you asked me what I thought my life would be like in a year from the time I stepped off the plane in Massachusetts after my mission, I would've never imagined anything that's happened. During my last night as a missionary, I stared up at the ceiling in complete darkness. I was nervous, terrified, excited, feeling about every emotion possible. I wondered what it would be like to finally hug my parents again. What would it be like to watch a movie? Or have my own phone again? What would happen when my mission, the thing I loved the most, was gone? Some nights I lie in bed and think about the last year. I've learned more about God's mercy and grace than ever before. 2019 has been nothing short of easy, but also one of the greatest years of my life. I've found my purpose in life again. I've established really good friendships for once in my life, I've stood up for myself, and I've found God in a much more real way. On one of those nights where I lie...

I'm currently writing to you as I sit on a blowup mattress in my brother and sister-in-law's living room, with what turned out to be a really bad braid, and with nails that are too long, so typing is actually really irritating. BUT I've had a post I've been meaning to write down for a while, so here I am. If you've followed up on this blog since the beginning of the year, you'll know my 2019 life motto is " Bloom ." It's a word which I feel sums up what this whole year was going to be for me- and it has. The year's not even over yet, but boy oh boy have I learned so much and found more of myself than ever before. I started college again, was seriously depressed and so anxious I barely left my room, decided to see a counselor on campus but he turned out to be... the worst... started the journey of medication, found a new therapist, ended up with a boyfriend for a brief time, gained and lost friends, started getting slightly political on social...

On July 29th, 2014, my sixteen year old self sat at my old laptop and began writing my first post as an amateur "blogger." I'd been wanting a blog for a while, mainly because I love writing, and because I had so many thoughts in my head-I wanted a place to express them. This blog was a way for people to look into my mind, my heart, and discover a part of me they didn't know much about. The only real problem was, I was sixteen and pretty clueless about the world, and I had a mother who I thought needed to approve of the idea first. I remember rehearsing how I would bring it up to her, how I would make it seem like a worthwhile thing. I was nervous about talking to her about it. When I did, she thought it was a good idea. So, I began taking the first steps. I looked for something to inspire me, something that would be the theme of this blog. In my short sixteen years I'd faced a lot and was starting to overcome my seemingly never-ending battle with anxiety and depr...

This weekend I was blessed to be able to go down and visit my mission again. I got my old car back and was able to drive around to see some old places I served in and visit some wards I was in too. It ended up being much more therapeutic than planned and I learned a lot and I needed a place to share that, so here we are. On Sunday I attended two different wards. I walked into my first sacrament meeting and looked around at this congregation of people I had grown to love. In this congregation sat three people I met who were either baptized or learning more about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It made me miss teaching and I wondered what more I had to offer in being home. The meeting ended and for the first time I was able to hug one of the guys I taught (as a sister missionary we weren't allowed to hug those of the opposite gender). I gave a big ol' hug to another one, and was able to talk with another girl I'd been teaching right before I left. Fo r a mo...

We're into February and I haven't really thought of anything I've really wanted to share with all of you. I've gone back and forth on plenty of topics. I've thought about how to make this blog better and more interesting, how to grow it, etc., but until I can better implement my plans and think about it a little longer, I'll leave you with this post today: If you read my  first post from when I returned home, you'll remember that I wrote about how hard it was to come back. I felt alone and lost. I had forgotten who I was and everything had a dark cloud around it. It felt like I was having an identity crisis. I didn't want to be the same person I was before I left on my mission, but I knew that I couldn't stay at the full-fledge 'Sister Linzey' state I was in. Now I'm at the point where I have my entire life ahead of me. When I was first at college, I really only planned up until my mission. There was a general idea of what to do after, ...