Hope House

Finally more psych ward synopsis...

I woke up on Thursday morning (D-Day) to the sound of Ingrid singing softly. I was slightly disoriented as I rolled over to turn off my alarm. I looked around me and saw packed bags and empty walls. Where am I? Slowly, it was all coming back together and I remembered what was happening that day. In just a few short hours, I would be getting in a car to fly to California where I would be checking into a psych ward for an indeterminable number of days. It was all surreal and I still couldn't believe I was leaving for (what I thought would be) an entire month. As I was getting some last-minute things together (AKA throwing a box full of tampons into my suitcase because I totally forgot about hormones), my roommate, Natalie, was heading out the door. We had a quick goodbye and hug. I was immediately overwhelmed with the number of goodbyes I would be saying that day.

I was still adding last minute toiletries to my bag(s) when my phone began to ring. I knew it was JanaLe. My heart stopped for a second. This was that next moment. This was me taking the next step towards my new life. I was leaving behind my old, sorry life in Provo and hitting that stupid, red reset button (don't you sometimes wish there actually was a little, red reset button?). I stood up and something wet landed on my foot. It was a teardrop. I didn't even realize that I was crying. My roommates each grabbed a bag and I grabbed my blanket and purse. We walked out to Jan's car in complete silence. There she was, sitting in my parking garage, with a plastered-on smile across her face. I turned to my roommates and tried desperately to convey every emotion inside. Instead, it was just tears. Lots of tears. I said my goodbyes and parted with my last words of wisdom: "Make good choices. Write me. Call me. I love you. Listen to Ingrid. Be friends with Emily. Don't have sex. I will miss you. We do hard things." My roommates laughed while I listed off my last-minute advice. I couldn't help but laugh, too. Bekah suddenly started whispering my current favorite song- Ingrid Michaelson's "I am a Lady in Spain". The three of us laughed as we emotionally sang my favorite lines, a hobby that will never get old. Despite the laughter and smiles, tears continued to fall uncontrollably down my cheeks. I quickly gave each of them another embrace goodbye.

With that, I slid into Janale's car. I sobbed and she reached her arm around my shoulders. "Okay, Rach. I need gas so let's do that... and then we can go to Starbucks, okay?" I nodded because words were not possible at that point. We pulled out of the garage and rain began to pour down on us. I laughed a little. Even the sky was crying. JanaLe turned on her favorite song and said, "I love rainy Thursdays". That's Jan for you. She knows how to make you smile and how to ease a tense situation. Before hopping on the freeway, we quickly stopped in at Starbucks. It's funny because had I not known otherwise, I would have thought it was just any other day. Me and Jan just driving around and eating food :) But, I knew the truth and it wasn't just any other day. We were on our way to the flight that would change my life forever. With hot chocolate in hand, we began the hour-long drive towards Salt Lake. 

Like I said, Janale has a way with people. She doesn't know it, but she can make anyone happy. She has this ability to express love in a way that is rare. Her smile is contagious. It was a little strange to be having such a serious conversation with her as we drove. When small-talk and favorite songs were no longer enough to fill the silence, she finally asked the question I was anticipating: So... what happened? It was a question I had been trying to prepare for, and yet there was still no answer. I don't know what happened. One moment I was okay and the next I felt as if I was in the depths of despair. I had no hope and no reason to live. We talked and talked about it over and over. It didn't feel real. I kept trying to internalize my situation by repeatedly stating the obvious: "I'm going to the loony bin. I am literally checking myself into a crazy house. What am I freaking doing, Janale??" She shut that up really quick. "Rachel, stop it. I won't let anyone talk like that about my friends, even if it's about yourself. You aren't going to the loony bin. You're going to a hope house. That's what it is. You're going somewhere to give you back your hope. One day, I would love to open my own so I can save amazing people like you. Zack (her BF, now husband) can do all the counseling, and I will provide the ice cream therapy." Jan has this theory- no situation is ever made worse by eating ice cream. You're happy? Here, try some ice cream. You just bombed a test? Here, you can have ice cream, too. You're checking into a psych ward? Here, a bucket-full of ice cream for you. 

No matter how silly Janale can sometimes be (in the best way), she was right. It wasn't the end of the world. No, I wasn't going to California for a vacation, but I was going to gain something very valuable: hope. I was going to take a second to re-learn how to breathe. I was going to live in a hope house. I was going to have a reason to live again. I was finally going to be happy.

His Grace is Sufficient

Last week, I went for a drive with one of my friends in the Elementary Education program, Lashea. We finished classes for the day and went to grab a soda before moving onto the rest of our day. One of our professors let us out early because it was his last day of lecturing for the semester. He gave us this really incredible speech about juggling the priorities in our lives and how to not get overwhelmed as we enter the teaching profession. It was amazing and exactly what we all needed to hear (after many of us failed a super important paper for the semester. whoops).

Shea <3

Anyway, Shea and I were talking about this professor, Brad Wilcox, as we walked to her car. He is a literacy professor, but he also writes books, speaks for the LDS church, and teaches religion courses at BYU (along with all of his church work with seminary/institute, EFY, etc.). When I was a senior in high school, my laurel advisor (church youth group leader) had us read and study a talk Brad Wilcox gave for a BYU devotional (it's amazing. and if you watch the video for it while you read it, you will get a feeling for how amazing he is as a professor!). It changed my life. And as we studied this talk and tried our best to embody it in our lives, I felt so much peace and comfort. Nothing prepared me more for the difficulties that would take place in my senior year. And as those difficulties built into what have become the most grueling four years of my life, I'm grateful that such a powerful depiction of Christ's Atonement can be the driving force in my life.

I started telling my friend about some of the experiences I'd had during my senior year, something I hadn't done in quite a while as it tends to bring up a lot of the anxiety that I try to avoid. I don't talk about it much because it bring up a lot of emotions, so I only talk about it with people I trust most. In this group of friends, they know just about everything about me and don't ever judge me. They just love me and want me to be happy in whatever capacity I think is best. So Lashea knew bits and pieces of what had happened already, but didn't know explicit details. I have this policy with my friends: if you ask it, I will answer honestly. If you don't want to know something, then just don't ask it. So, we went into specifics and talked about that day. We talked about how it made me feel and how it affected me as a person. She then started piecing together the timeline of things. How two years later I found myself in a psych ward because was in a situation I couldn't handle. Yet, with the help and support of everyone around me, I did handle it. Shea reached her arm around me and said "Rach, I'm just so glad you're here. Think about everything you've done since then." It hit me and I had to try hard to stay focused on our conversation. These four years have been unfathomably difficult. Year after year, something big hits and it just becomes one more thing to deal with and overcome. We talked a little bit about that and then she quite candidly turned to me and asked "But, don't you see how far you've come? Do you notice a difference?" And with all of my heart, I can say “Yes. Absolutely, totally, completely, thankfully—yes!” (quoted from Brother Wilcox!).

I am not the same person I was when I started here at BYU. I am not the same person I was 3 years ago, 2 years ago, or even 2 months ago. These experiences here have been awful. But they have been tremendous, too. They have pushed me to places I never could have imagined. I have changed and grown more in these four years than I had in the 18 years leading up to this point. I get a little nauseous as I think about everything that has happened and how jam-packed with life these four years have been. I get excited knowing that I am to be leaving this place. But then I get sick thinking about leaving. While these four years have been some of the worst experiences of my life, they have also been the best. I have learned more about myself and others and God than I could ever articulate. I have learned what real friendship is. I have seen sacrifice, love, and charity day-in and day-out. I've seen changes in myself so drastic and powerful that it doesn't seem real. I've seen some of the most generous acts of kindness-- the stuff of Hallmark movies. I have become something here. I have become a person I can be proud of. 

In these four years, I have accomplished so many things. Not because of my own ability, but because of the support of professors, friends, and family in my life. On days when I struggled to get myself to class, tender mercies carried me through. And as I think about leaving this place, it makes me a little sad. There are places throughout this town and campus that have been the location of pivotal moments in my life. The laundry room where I finally confessed the inner turmoil taking control of my life, the street corner where I cried my guts out to friends, the school where I taught my first lesson, the campus where I faced my fears of failure, the classroom where I met some incredible peers, the apartment complex where I made friends to support me during my biggest trial to date. All of these places have left their mark on me. And even though it's been incredibly difficult, I wouldn't trade any of it. The compassion and love that I have grown to possess would not be possible without the heartache and trials I've endured. The confidence in myself and my ability to be a force of good were gained here. Because without sorrow, there is no joy. Without understanding the empty, dead feeling that comes with a lack of happiness, I would not be able to recognize the beauty of it when I finally allowed those emotions back into my life.  

Me and Brad!

His grace is sufficient to cover all things. His grace is sufficient to change us. His grace is sufficient for me. Although there have been SOOO many people who have helped me grow, there is nothing that has helped me grow more during these four years than the never-ending grace of the Atonement. The ability to overcome hardships and move on from horrible experiences comes from my ability to rely on the Atonement. My ability to use the Atonement to change has shaped me into the person I am now. Christ's constant companionship helped me endure periods of absolute isolation. Christ's compassion and complete understanding has helped me endure the pains of this life. My dear professor helped me to comprehend what His grace means in my life. And my amazing friend helped me recognize the changes His grace has already started within me.