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Why Counseling?

I am five and a half years into my journey of seeing a licensed professional counselor. Her name is Candice, and she has been an integral part of my being and living. I would not be the person I am today over these past five years without the paths she helped guide me through and over. Which is why, if you were to ask what has been the most transformational tool in my life -- spiritually, emotionally, physically, psychologically -- I would tell you its receiving professional counseling. 

Maybe this isn’t a secret to you. Perhaps you have known me long enough to know how much I adore my therapist. Or you have been apart of a small group I led where I was always armed with a list of counselors. Or maybe you’ve just followed me on social media long enough. Whatever it is, even though I feel wholly supported, I still feel there is stigma surrounding the notion and act of receiving professional help. 

Over the years, I have met with so many friends who began asking why I started going to counseling. What is it like? Was it scary? Is it actually helpful? So, let’s start there.

Why Did I Start Counseling?

It’s actually a funny little story, as it started because of a boy. (I think) he was incredibly well-intentioned when he told me that I needed to figure myself out and what I wanted before a relationship. I was a shipwreck full of anxiety and insecurity in relationships. Mostly, I was lost and kept trying to figure out how to navigate the sea I was in with another unfulfilling relationship. Whether he was projecting or not, it jump-started something in me. So, I asked the right person and found the phone number I needed.

Was it scary?

Yes and no. I don’t think Hollywood does a great job of giving us examples of what therapy can look like. When I first started, I didn’t know what to expect. Would I cry? Would I try to fake it? Could this person really handle me? What I came to find out is that great counseling begins with relationship. It’s the therapist getting to know you -- at your pace -- and you getting to know them. This is where trust is built. 

When that foundation is sturdy, what can make counseling scary is coming face-to-face with, and putting dialogue to, things like childhood trauma and all the ways in which we have subconsciously let that dictate our life. There is a lot of work when it comes to self-care in therapy, and that can be both hard and scary. We are hardwired to fight or flee during stress, but I can confidently say that every Co-Dependents Anonymous meeting I went to and every book I read and every prayer I prayed, always took me to the other side. A better, more whole, and healthier side.

Is It Actually Helpful?

If you find a great therapist, absolutely. I saw Candice just last night and was reminded why I have needed her guidance since I was twenty-four. I have entered important stages of life with her -- familial loss, dating, engagement, marriage, now parenthood -- and through each stage, she has tenderly held my fears, sorrows, excitement, anger, depression, and celebration. 

She has exclaimed “What the fuck?!” for me when I couldn’t say it myself; when I was too tired and angry and could barely form words anymore. But she could see through me and know I needed something validated. Candice reminds me of boundaries and caring for my inner-child (we all have one) and self. 

Isn’t Prayer Enough?

This one. I tend to get this a lot from the Christian community. Some of it has to do with generational gaps and/or conservative evangelicalism. Whatever the case may be, I hope it is enough to know that prayer and professional counseling are not mutually exclusive. Hand-in-hand, they are powerful tools to bring deep self-awareness and a more meaningful, trusting relationship with God.

Learning to recognize the unhealthy and healthy that resides in us -- spiritually, emotionally and physically -- we gain the ability to love and trust the Lord with all of our Hearts, Minds, and Souls. You know, the one of two things Jesus commanded of us.

“Our wisdom, in so far as it ought to be deemed true and solid Wisdom, consists almost entirely of two parts: the knowledge of God and of ourselves. But as these are connected together by many ties, it is not easy to determine which of the two precedes and gives birth to the other.”

Lastly, I am reminded of how tender it is to be human. To this day, my ego leads me to believe I can muster my way through emotions. I can choose to not feel them or acknowledge them, but there they are. And, whether or not I like it, my childhood wounds are still triggered by things both small and large, and usually outside of my control.  

Thankfully, Candice has helped me Captain my ship in learning how to trust myself and my emotions, and to rely on the Lord in new, profound ways. My hope in sharing this is to see you encouraged, maybe even towards taking a new step in your own counseling journey. Whatever that looks like, whenever that may be, know there is never any shame in looking inward. 

[seeingstigma-blog]

Mental Health + LGBTQ Community: Violet

The one thing I love about this blog, besides reading and learning from others, is the deep vulnerability and transparency I come across. I feel like I am constantly reminded that I don’t know the real definition of Brave or Bad-ass until see stories, like Violet’s below, roll into my inbox.

Violet and I have known one another since we attended the same church in Chicago. I am now keeping up with Violet’s coming and goings as she bops around the Pacific Northwest, watching her yogi and namaste far better than I ever will.

I asked Violet if I could share what she sent me and she kindly obliged. My hearts desire is to see freedom for the those within the Church (big “C”) who feel silenced by their mental health status and/or their sexuality. Violet owns her story, and I hope she encourages you to own yours, too.

I felt a bit compelled to reply to your request for people to chat with you about their own experiences with stigma.

As a female a part of the Christian community, I felt a pressure to remain silent about my mental health. The ugly side of anxiety and depression can silence you into thinking that your thoughts are invalid or simply a burden -- especially in a community that claims that all should be well especially if I have Jesus by side. Now, don't get me wrong -- I love Jesus and I would not be where I am today without my faith. However, choosing to follow God does not exempt me from mental health challenges, and I'm unsure why this has become a mindset within main Christian culture. 

It has taken me years to find the proper support of fellow followers that can either understand/relate or simply walk beside me and I try to find balance and healing. This stigma is not only unhealthy for those struggling within the Christian community, but very harmful to those who need help and don't feel inclined to ask for it out of fear of being judged, their feelings and thoughts being undermined, or having the devil prayed out of them (this totally happened to me more than once).

After overcoming some of these struggles, I ran into another issue of finally coming to terms with my bisexuality. There is this strange fear with many in the LGBTQ+ community that if they come out, especially while in a more severe bout of mental illness, that their sexuality will be correlated with their condition/illness. This was a fear of mine when considering coming out to my family. Even therapy is considered severe to my parents. 

I wanted to share my experience of progress and healing with my therapist as well as share my joy of being in a new, healthy relationship with a female. The fear and stigma of mental health in the Christian community held me back. Something in me knew that my parents would think that my sexuality/sin is what was leading to my anxiety and depression.

Despite all this, I know that is important to fight these stigmas in my everyday life. I am continuing to find my strength and guidance in my relationship with Jesus and support from my friends that have become family. Thank you for listening and continuing to bring up this important conversation. With gratitude, Violet L.”  

Again, I hope you found every word of Violet’s story encouraging. Maybe you even relate. For me, her “praying it away” or the stigmatization and correlation of mental illness and sexuality is far too familiar. I will never forget when I tried to advocate for a family member, but was met with “he’s only like that because he’s gay.” Years later, I would be sitting with him for an emergency psych evaluation.

All, we have to be better. Church, we can be better. 

[seeingstigma-blog]

Mental Health: Suicide

It was in February of 2017 that I found myself in the depths of deep depression. A depth that nearly put me in the hospital. I feel that I have written on this so many times before, so I hope I don’t sound too repetitious. But I would like to talk about what it means to be on the brink of a complete mental health breakdown, and the shame attached to such.

I remember being asked when the suicidal thoughts began. How young was I? Were they frequent? In all honesty, I could trace them back to middle school. A lot of emotional trauma occurred all at once in middle school, and I never received support in and through that. It also didn’t help that I was also experiencing normal thirteen-year-old hormones. 

What I learned in middle school was that suicide was a viable option. This traveled with me through high school, where a bad day would translate to thoughts of death. The thoughts were pervasive and quick, too. And if I spoke out, I was told “I’m being dramatic.” Or “I don’t understand stress because I’m too young.” Having been met with closed doors in the help I was seeking, I traveled deeper into myself.

I understand now, after many Psych classes, that my frontal lobe had yet to fully develop, so my understanding of the permanence of death was not there. Even still, with all the understanding and therapy and prayer and community, how could suicidal thinking still occur now, right? I was just as confused by this. All I kept thinking was how I’m a Christian -- this isn’t supposed to happen.

But when I found that I could no longer separate my Christianity and love for Jesus from what was mentally robbing me, I knew it was time for medication. My medication story is already a blog post, so I won’t delve into that again. I will only say that Lexapro began to build protective fences for me. I could see my world through a fence now. My psychological and even physiological reaction to situations were entirely different. It’s as if my brain and body kicked up its feet and told me “Hey, man, it’s going to be OK even if it’s not OK right now.” 

Here is what I regret most through that really difficult time, though. I was silent. I told neither my husband, friends nor therapist what was happening. My coping mechanisms learned from middle school -- remain to myself because I’m just being dramatic -- followed me well into adulthood. So when it did come out, it was bad. Well, good, but bad. 

The bad was seeing how I hurt the people I trusted the most by withholding (quite literal) life-altering information. The good was that it was out and I was surprised by the support. B held me. Allie was at my door in three seconds. My therapist held me accountable to see my doctor about medication. And just like that ... I was on a new pathway of learning how to cope.

Now, there is a promise that I cannot break: I will not remain silent. I will tell B and my therapist and trusted friends if I begin to feel even an inkling of those thoughts.

Suicidal ideation is so real, friends. It is a silent killer in its own right. My hope in sharing this deeply personal story is to call you out of your own silence. I promise that you’re not being dramatic, your feelings are valid, and you deserve to be heard.

If you don’t feel safe talking to someone you know, at the very least call someone at the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-8255. It is free and confidential.

xo

Bre

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Mental Health Month 2018

I haven’t written on here for a year! A year! Lately, writing has come in spurts, even on my personal blog. If I’m honest, some of it feels so repetitive, even at times defeating, to keep writing on the same subjects still occurring. 

But that doesn’t mean I hate repetition. In fact, this blog was created specifically for just that. I want to keep talking about Stigma and the ways it affects each and every one of us. 

Tomorrow, May 1st, we begin Mental Health Month. I cherish this month and hold it so tenderly. My greatest desire is to see us all freed from the bondage that is Stigma, and the ways in which we view ourselves through the lens of who we should be and how we should feel per society. 

So, I will begin posting again tomorrow. I hope to hear from you and you and you and you regarding your own story with Stigma and Mental Health. This could look like anxiety, belonging to the LGBTQ+ community, depression, bipolar disorder, sexuality ... you name it. All of these, and so much more, can affect our every moment.

You can remain as anonymous as you’d like or not. I would just love to chat.

For anonymity, log in to the account below and email me at Breannalanej@gmail.com Log into Gmail: seeingstigma PW: killstigma

[seeingstigma-blog]

Medication Isn’t A Monster

I wanted to be sure I could say it out loud first, before I took myself to the keyboard. Slowly, I started with snippets of casual revelations. I would drop the word subtly -- here or there -- just to see the response in changing facial expressions. Well, to my surprise, while there was certainly a look of confusion, no one reacted. Responded, sure, but reacted ... no.

And I think that’s when I recognized that I, the same person who fights for the elimination of stigmatization, was standing in front of the mirror wearing the cloak of stigma in my own story and struggle.

So, to those who sat across from me and heard these subtle and casual remarks, thank you. You may not know this, but you equipped me with a certain bravery I didn’t quite know I needed. You gave me the power to write it out now.

--

I wrote a paper on this recently, so this blog is a hybrid of what I wrote and additional thoughts.

I do not recall when my biological father left. I was too young for that memory to form. But I do remember when my step-dad left. It was the summer before eighth grade and I had just made the cheerleading team at school. I was all-at-once excited for what the school year would look like, but I also held contradictory feelings in my hands. I knew that my step-dad -- who, by this time, I referred to as “dad” -- was leaving us. As I pulled out of the driveway with my mom for the first day of cheer camp, I looked through the back window and saw him loading up his little red truck with bulky, black trash bags. 

After ten years, he would no longer be the person who awaited me when I got home. He would not be driving my brothers, best friend and me to the beach to watch the sunset, or teaching me some silly skill like fishing or tying up a rope swing. He would leave our driveway in that little red truck and visit only intermittently. I, on the other hand, would spend many years wondering what his loneliness felt like; feeling somewhat responsible for their impending divorce. Out of these events, emotions, and the others that would transpire out of them, I believe this was the birthplace of my depression.

In the beginning, for me, depression wasn’t something so easily identifiable in my life. The sadness I held just became part of a normal emotion I seemed to have stored away. In my youth, the feelings presented themselves in the form of drug use and drinking, some suicidal ideation and rage. As an adult, I became a Christian and those desires faded. I could deeply appreciate the present and all the good that it seemed to give me. I could laugh until my belly hurt or be my quirky self. The “bad” feelings were quick to be folded and repressed. It felt like there was no time to acknowledge them -- I only wanted to see the good. In the years that I began therapy, though, I was diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder. Because I genuinely believed I was fine, I wrote off the diagnosis as a way for insurance to provide coverage. 

But as the years progressed and as counseling went on, what could no longer be buried was why I felt the sadness at such a depth that I did. In January of this year, the myriad bubble of troubles, both environmental and emotional, went pop. I was back in the dark and I no longer had the courage or strength to find the light. I had tried it all: counseling, tanning beds, massages, prayers, scripture. Nothing. Going through what it meant to take the next steps, I could only conclude one thing: medication. 

After talking with my therapist about the decision (“I think it’s a great idea.”) and my primary care doctor, I was put on Lexapro. Never in my life did I think I would be on medication, and I think much of this is (I concluded) was because I was a master perfecter of my emotions. I was supposed to be in control of them. I was supposed to be able to hold onto the idea that sadness was easily replaced with laughter or community or prayer.

As a Christian on an anti-depressant, I can (so much more clearly) acknowledge the lie that that is. I love Jesus with my whole heart, but that doesn’t guarantee that I won’t suffer emotionally or physically in this life. My initial thought before going on medication was that I was giving up my reliance on God. No matter how dark my thinking was, I truly believed that God would want me in the pit. The counter to that argument only came after I was on medication. 

Now, in my clearest state of mind, I have the ability to see the Lord without a second thought of how he loves me and sees me. My reliance on God has neither faltered nor faded; it has grown stronger. The environment around me doesn’t feel as overwhelming or dooming. Another thing medication has provided me: a mental fence. Where I once felt like I could not take the weight of another issue, I am now afforded the ability to look through the fence to see the weight of the world at arms length, and a choice of whether or not I want to let in on my terms and with my energy. 

More than anything, I am better. I feel better. I treat myself better. I hold others’ stories better. I can say, matter-of-factly, that medication is not a monster. 

The creeping shame that we are inherently wrong is the real monster. The silence that follows when no one talks about it is the real monster.

My guess is that I’m not alone in this, especially as a Christian. Because of that, I want to leave you with the words my doctor told me after my appointment with her.

“We are not helpless. We are not helpless. Please know this world would look so much different without you.” 

[seeingstigma-blog]

The Church & Our Response

I want to be as clear as possible when I say this: as a straight woman who identifies more with white culture than my native culture (Mexican, Spanish and Native American), no, it’s not a flip-the-switch and sudden-to-identify with the different culture, race, ethnicity, socioeconomic status or sexual orientation I interact with. However, because I choose to be self-aware as I interact with those whose lives are different than mine, I am also choosing to make myself available to their story. What it looks like is setting aside preconceived, society bred-and-born notions that I am inherently right and they are inherently wrong.

Since the shooting at Pulse in Orlando, I am still choosing to be self-aware in my words and actions. While I am admittedly not going to always respond perfectly, what I have seen are responses out of the Christian community that have alarmed me more than anything during this. Apparently, we all need a voice in this, which is not necessarily a bad thing when the voice is wise, helpful and encouraging. But what I am coming across are the questionably destructive, hateful, evil comments from those who stand in opposition of same-sex anything. Including, very obviously, even death.

(A very real message sent to me for “correction.” Oh, and he kept going even when I didn’t respond. You should have seen what was said about women.)

Some opinions - the more hateful ones - are as easy as an “Unfollow” button on Facebook (something I have taken a huge liking to since Sunday). But I think the one that has boggled my mind the most are the opinions of Christians who are, for a lack of words, “trying to understand how to feel” ... when an evil person kills 49 people who, majority, belonged to the LGBTQ community. I read some biblical scholar’s post stating “in this case” it’s OK to grieve those within the LGBTQ community, because “they’re likely quite scared.”

A white man gave Christian’s permission to grieve the loss of 49 lives because gay people are scared.

I know one of my friends shared that out of a very well-intentioned heart (we spoke on it). I think in some self-reflection of my own, I could see how it could feel warm and helpful. Still, I felt it was dismissive of how angry we are allowed to feel for the LGBTQ community, Muslim community and gun control reform. It still says it’s against us against them. So, I have to ask: At what point did we, the people who belong to the Church and Body of Christ, need permission to sit alongside someone, who we perceive to be different than us, and hold their grief in our hearts and hands?

--

If you’re a Christian reading this, then you’re familiar with the Sermon on the Mount. It’s Jesus’ most powerful preaching moment before the Cross. You are given an introduction to who’s blessed and going to inherit the Kingdom. You are also taught about murder. Adultery. Divorce. Oaths. Giving to the Needy. Needles in Your Eye. Judging Others.

The Sermon on the Mount was the moment where God could choose to exclude or include. You would think, in a culture where homosexuality was present, Jesus would want to be very clear on the Lord’s opinion. But He chose sentences like, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” and “Blessed are the merciful.” and “For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

And, my favorite, “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.” At one point in His walks and talks with the disciples, Jesus is asked which commandment is the greatest (you know, to be sure they get into heaven using the “right” will of God). Jesus simply replies, “Love God and love your neighbors.” There’s no asterisk implying how to define neighbor, either. She’s the transgender woman sitting next to you on the bus. He’s the straight white guy who files your taxes. She’s the homeless youth who just came out as a lesbian to her parents.

Loving someone is rewarding yet risky and painful. In a post from my pastor about this, she described love as an emptying of self. Love is an awareness to your own faults and missteps. It’s quite literally saying, “I love you the way my God loves you.” It is the unquestionable grief that comes after such unspeakable, targeted tragedy.

Love is not “love the sinner, hate the sin,” because contradictions cannot live together. Those little phrases only become an excuse to keep your fences raised. Truly, it’s a disfavor to your spiritual life to not know the depths of love through the eyes of someone different than you.

Church, I call you forward ... from behind the safety or fear of your gun reform opinion, from your notions of who should be let into one country or another, from fired up television and computer screens ... to find someone different than you. To hear them. See them. Love them.

If you’re still having a hard time with this and the image of God, I encourage you to read through the Gospels. Read through the character of our God-man Jesus. Pray that the Spirit guides your heart. And if you still come back to your same opinions, fine. At least you tried. But remember above everything:

“Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” and “We wrestle not against flesh and blood...”

We will be known for our responses to such tragedies. I’d like to think the Church was oppressed because we knew how to love well and deeply and inclusively. Not because people are tired of hearing our opinions shouted from soapboxes that are exclusive and dehumanizing to flesh and blood.

I have created a new tab for those who want to dip their feet into the water of cultural and racial exploration, and to become a little more self-aware. I’ve gathered these from different talks I have attend throughout the years and amazing, thought-provoking professors I have had.

Bre

[seeingstigma-blog]

City Beautiful

Sadly, it has been a long time since I have updated this blog. Since getting married, I feel like life only sped up. However, I do want to pause and write about what has happened within the LGBTQ community. 

By now, we are all aware of what happened at a well-known and gay friendly club called Pulse. It was a club that, for most (if not all), was a safe place because it held the kind of love that didn’t welcome shame or fear or question in response to loving the same sex. On Saturday, a man walked in with an assault rifle and took away that safety. He shot and killed 49 innocent people and changed the trajectory of lives for another 53 people. This does not account for the psychological damage done for everyone else in attendance.

In the wake of this, I want to continue to advocate loudly for the LGBTQ community AND the Muslim community. I want to continue to share stories of how you’re processing or how you’re advocating in your own state or here in Chicago. I want to get involved, too. 

If you are a part of the LGBTQ and/or Muslim community, let’s get in touch. Please follow the prompts below if you would like to remain anonymous.

Log into Gmail: seeingstigma PW: killstigma

If you are interested in donating, please click here.

(Also, A - I’m still trying to get in touch with you. Please let me know when you want to connect!)

Bre

[seeingstigma-blog]

Hi, friends -

I’m sorry I haven’t been as consistent as I had hoped to be with this website. Being in school and working full time and planning a wedding has caught up to me! I created this website during a week off from classes, so my focus was steady and stable. 

My next continuation in this series is to be addiction. My assumption is that there are some who would rather their addiction (to anything) remain anonymous. That said, I have created an anonymous way in order to chat with you. 

Directions: Log in to the Gmail account listed below, enter the password and get in contact with me through email. Once we find a time, we can communicate through Gchat.

Gmail: seeingstigma PW: killstigma

xo Bre

[seeingstigma-blog]

Our Mental Health Community: Tabitha

I’m honored to introduce you to Tabitha. We served together some six years ago with a high school ministry in Florida. She reached out to me when she saw I created this blog. In October of 2014, she unexpectedly had a traumatic brain injury. Tabitha shared with me just the surface of what has been happening with the state of her mental health due to this TBI.

We chatted on Wednesday night, and I’m so beyond grateful for her bravery to share.

---

Me: I'm really excited to do this, Tabitha! I really appreciate your bravery in reaching out.

We can start with the basics -

Where is it that you're living now? Where are you working?

Tabitha: I appreciate that. I spoke with Kayla briefly about it last night. It is a bit scary. Most people may know I struggle with mental health, but outside of my husband and sisters, no one really knows the extent.

I moved back down to Florida at the end of September. Settled in Clearwater with my husband, Michael, and I am working as an Activities director at a longer term care nursing facility.

Me: Tabitha! That is incredible! How life-giving for you and those sweet patients. I didn't realize the extent with which you have decided to keep this private. I'm really grateful that you reached out. We haven't spoken in quite some time since I moved from Florida. How are you feeling about this now?

Tabitha: I did that when I lived in New Hampshire (along with working with special needs students) and I am back at it. I feel comfortable. I am more uncomfortable with this topic remaining taboo or scary.

Me: Well, let's start chipping at that taboo together!

Tabitha: Let's!

Me: So, we are going to be talking about mental health and mental illness (a terminology that I try and hope to avoid, but still trying to find a different term).

Can you tell me a little bit about what happened in October of 2014?

Tabitha: I had a student that required one-on-one attention, majority of which was in an isolated room to help prevent him from being overwhelmed. He was on the severe end of the autism spectrum and could only communicate through grunts and noises. Once a day he was scheduled to join his homeroom class for about 20 minutes - an activity that was routine for him. The morning of the incident was fine until it wasn't. He began to become very physically, mentally, and emotionally heightened, I began administering several different therapeutic techniques that he usually responded well with – unfortunately, he became physical instead of calming down. He flipped his desk over and began to run towards the other children in the room. In my chase after him he stopped abruptly, ripped the phone off the wall, and slammed it onto my right temple. I blacked out for a millisecond and pursued him as he went towards the other children. He reached a box of large rocks on a table, they had been learning about geology, and threw one at another student, barely missing the child. My concern was to avoid my student from hurting himself or anyone else. While administering a restraint, he over powered me and slammed another rock into the same place on my head. That's where my memory stops being clear. The rest of it comes in and out and I rely on the report of co-workers, paramedics, and witnesses for the rest.

Me: Tabitha, that sounds absolutely terrifying. I cannot imagine just how scary that was for you in the moment, hoping this student would not hurt himself or others ... and you're the one most affected.

These injuries not only sound painful, but also harmful. What has been the lasting effect of these injuries?

**NOTE: I spoke with my old roomie, a special education teacher, on violence and autism, its rarity and why it may happen: “The needs that come along with autism (social skill deficits, sensory dis-regulation, communication challenges) are what cause people with autism to exhibit challenging behaviors. Mainly communication - they cannot typically express their needs in a way that is clear to their communication partner, which is obviously very frustrating to them.”**

Tabitha: Physically, I suffer from permanent migraines, some altered vision, neurological symptoms (pains mimicking strokes or heart attacks), and seldom need of a cane. All of this is WORLDS better than it was in the months after the incident. I was bed rest for weeks, unable to speak or walk, vision that was severely lost, nausea and vomiting daily, and migraines that seemed perpetual. About three or so months after the accident I began suffering from a different set of symptoms. I began having night terrors and paralysis several times a night. I would wake up screaming and feeling a person holding me down but unable to move. Or I would wake my husband up in hysterics because I heard people in our home - and no matter how many times he checked the house I didn't believe we were safe. I started having anxiety and severe panic attacks. Hyperventilating, crying, shaking, shooting body pains. Scared out of my mind and not sure why. Then I began fearing that I would have these attacks and I would get attacks from anticipating them. And then add all of this, and the fact that I was 28 and needed a cane to get around, as well as finding it near impossible to get the proper care and I needed - I became severely depressed.

While some of these mental health symptoms have "settled" some, they are far from gone. And as of late have actually been worse.

Me: This is really hard to hear. For so long, you lived a - for a lack of a better word - "normal" life. Now you were suffering these very foreign feelings. I want to dive deeper into your mental health status, but I first want to ask if you remember a time without these feelings?

Tabitha: Kind of. I remember being about 23 and realizing I had suffered from anxiety most of my life - including childhood. I felt like an idiot for not realizing it or ever having a name for it. It was NEVER spoken about in a manner that made believe it was even a possibility for me to suffer from. I was 26 when I began seeing a counselor and was on a light medication for it. But it was so incredibly manageable and didn't prevent me from living a "normal" life or make living unbearable. I can say for certain that prior to the incident I had ever had thoughts of taking my life or wanting so desperately not to be around. Now, it's a pretty regular part of me.

Me: I'm so sorry to hear that, Tabitha. It sounds like the injuries caused aggravated your anxiety and caused even more mental health problems to arise. I also want to mention that suicidal thoughts are very real and can be very overwhelmingly lonely for anyone who does not understand or attempt to understand.

How has your family responded to you and these circumstances?

Tabitha: There was a lot of secrecy surrounding it for a bit. I was so ashamed of what was happening. I didn't understand why my brain and body were betraying me. That's what it feels like - as if my body is against me and has switched its loyalty to another force. So for a while I kept it from the doctors and my husband. It wasn't until the night terrors started happening that I couldn't hide it from him. For my husband, he was so frustrated and it came across to me that he wanted me to stop "being sad and pathetic" so we could move on. Of course, that was how my vulnerable heart and brain viewed it. In reality he was suffering having to watch me suffer and become out of control of myself. Once I became open with him and the doctors about what was happening, I opened up to my mother and sisters - and the response was that they wanted me to do whatever it took to get better - but I don’t think the gravity and realness of the situation was understood.

Part of that would be due to living out of state and they weren't living it like my husband was. And part of it I believe was due to preconceived notions of what mental health was supposed to look like - especially coming from a evangelical background. (I could be off base on that, I never spoke with them directly about that.) Additionally, it's hard to believe the situation was serious when I am by nature a bubbly, outgoing person. It wasn't until I was hospitalized for wanting to take my life that things sank in for everyone. And once that happened there didn't seem to be any judging or assumptions - and that was a remedy in itself.

Me: Hearing you say that the judgment did not really subside until something as serious as trying to take your life and being hospitalized for it is heartbreaking. I assume that was the switch for your family, and maybe even your husband, to understand the grip of depression and anxiety had/has on you?

And since your hospitalization, what help have you sought as you continue to navigate these thoughts and feelings? Are there still good days in the midst of it all?

Tabitha: Yeah. For myself and my husband, it was this moment when we realized how serious and threatening depression really is.

The tough part of seeking treatment during this was that it was all a workman's comp issue. When it came to my vision, migraines, walking, etc. they got me all of the treatment I needed. However, depression, anxiety, etc. cannot be measured on a MRI. I have statements and records from doctors and specialists that refused to allow me back to work without proper treatment and time - instead of helping me with this - the insurance company denied ALL of the doctor’s diagnosis' and treatments recommendations and discontinued my pay and then I lost my job. Without a job I didn't have insurance - and without insurance I couldn't get help.

I had an amazing PCP who did everything she could - including writing me scripts for my meds to last me a few months after my move. Unfortunately, I am out of that reserve and am still waiting for my health benefits to kick in before pursuing more treatment - and I think that is why my symptoms have been pretty severe lately.

And yea, I have some good days - if you met my husband you would realize how impossible it would be not to! He is truly incredible and supportive. And we are no longer afraid to talk about those days when I no longer want to be around. Just having the security in my relationship with him has been immeasurable in my healing. In that same token - he cannot be my everything.

Me: That is so frustrating to hear how another insurance company played with your life like that. I always wonder why we can't live in a world where GOOD mental health help is cheaper and more easy to come by - without insurance! When do your benefits start again with your new job?

I'm also really happy to hear just how much your husband has been there for you - he is really living out those vows you took together. I think it's a testament that familial support is SO imperative to finding health again, even amidst the darker days.

Tabitha: I have three more months to wait out for health benefits. I am a part of an online support group and they are extremely helpful on tips that they use to help them get to sleep of try and keep an attack from getting too far. Three months doesn't seem too long to wait in the scheme of things.

As for my husband - I don't even know what God was thinking when He gave him to me. He will stay up with me when I need a bath because of anxiety. Sometimes this happens multiple times a night! He has said to me, "If you are up, I'm up". He knows when I need deep pressure and sacrifices his own comfort to try and help manage mine. As difficult as it is for the person suffering from mental health - it should be mentioned that the support system and family living through it also suffer and deal with a lot. Mike and I weren't even married a year when this happened to us and he continues to show me how undeserving I am of him.

And even with having him things are still so difficult, so my heart breaks knowing that there are people who deal with this daily and have no one. They have no one! And to top it off, society isn't helping to make them feel that they can be better and this doesn't have to be the end all be all!

I should add that my sister Kayla came up form NYC to spend a week with me in NH when this was happening). And that was so moving and touching for me to have.

Me: Wow, that is beautiful. That is perhaps one of the sweetest pictures of marriage that I have ever read. What a good man, Tabitha. I'm also happy to hear that you've found a support group. I've received so much help from online support, too! You moved back to Florida pretty recently. Was any of this to be closer to family because of your mental health?

As for our society, I agree. We don't make it better if it remains hidden. Ultimately, our silence is shaming.

Tabitha: Being closer to family was the catalyst for the move. Mike and I had been talking about moving for a while but had never set a proper timeline. And my in-laws are INCREDIBLE and I miss them terribly. But to be honest, this is still something I feel like I am burdening people with and I didn't want to do that to them. The depression was also unbearable and there were days that just being able to visit my sister would have made all the difference, so we decided to pack up and come to Florida.

The silence is shaming and that only exasperates the issues. For a while my mentality was that "Mental Illness" (I also despise that term) was something I helped other people through as a staff member of a youth ministry. But it was never something I would ever experience myself. But that was because back then, I believed it to be something that afflicted the crazy or unrepentant population. But mental health discriminates against no one.

Me: I'm really happy you can be closer with family and can also receive the immediate need. I'm sure your family would say it is certainly not a burden. You are so worthy of being so deeply loved, even if that is a message you need repeated 60,000 times.

That mindset is unfortunately very real and pervasive within the church. Certainly there is spiritual warfare, and a time and place for that, but traumatic brain injuries are another thing.

Can you tell me something you tell yourself each day? Something that can get you through the day?

Tabitha: I suppose I have a collection of thoughts. It start's with, "Worse things have happened to better people." That usually is followed by a scolding of some sorts. Then I think about my husband, and how I want to try and get out an entire lifetime with him. And then I try and remind myself that if I was able to get through yesterday, then I can probably get through today.

Sometimes I have to try to put whatever my situation is into perspective. For instance, a tough day at work doesn't mean my life has no meaning or I will lose my job. But trying to find that perspective is difficult when you are fighting anxiety.

And a lot of times, just remembering to breathe deeply is all I can do to get through the next few minutes. And then I try to get through the following minutes, etc.

Me: Absolutely. It sounds like an entire resetting of your mindset for your everyday. Do some days seem easier than others?

Tabitha: Yes! And I have worked hard to recognize what my triggers are and trying to avoid them. That can be difficult because sometimes it is unavoidable - but those days when I can prevent it are some of the best. It gives me a sense of accomplishment and control over something that seems so uncontrollable most of the time.

Me: That's wonderful to hear! I'm sure having that support in your husband and family is of so much help.

I wanted to let you in on the survey results surrounding mental health and mental illness. A lot of the responses were very positive. One of them has me curious as to what your response would be.

The question was: "What does mental illness mean to you?"

Their answer: "An illness that causes a person to act/think/speak differently than someone without mental obstacles/difficulties. I think a lot of people are afraid to engage with people who are different from themselves due to fear and I have to admit that I am one of them. I am not close to anyone with a mental illness and I think the fear of the unknown can be powerful, unfortunately."

How would you respond to their "fear of the unknown"?

Tabitha: Their fear is pretty typical really and I believe should be validated. I think it's important that we separate the person from the affliction. A person with a broken leg needs assistance getting around, but they are inherently still the same person. Just as a person with PTSD needs assistance in other ways, but they are still underneath what they are battling. I would tell this person to reach out to the person. Don't try and avoid or ignore their battle - if we ignore it we will never understand it. If we never understand it then we will continue to fear what we do not know. And most of the time, there is little to fear.

Me: Thanks for that response. My hope is that they read this response and actually do face their fear of the unknown.

Tabitha: Thank you for what you are doing. I mean that with everything in me. It is so encouraging to have someone like you around taking initiative.

Me: That's wonderful to hear! I'm sure having that support in your husband and family is of so much help.

Tabitha: It really is. But I want to give you some credit here as well. Your compassion and passion for those dealing with these issues is obvious and evident even thousands of miles away. Your advocacy is so uplifting - sometimes it is what can take a weight of of me at the end of the day. Thank you for what you are doing. I mean that with everything in me. It is so encouraging to have someone like you around taking initiative.

Me: Oh, friend. I hope you really do feel lighter after talking! I may have my own struggles, but all of our stories are so different, but that's what makes it beautiful. I'm sincerely so grateful for your vulnerability to share.

I saw that you're doing makeup, too?! You are incredible at it!

And you're so welcome. But I also want to thank you! You are so brave, Tabitha!

Tabitha: Thank you! Yes, I love it. I got started 6 years ago working with Chanel as a freelancer and then I couldn't get enough. Makeup gives me the same feeling that music does and it is incredible therapeutic for me. The goal and hope is to one day be doing PYT Beauty full time.

And thank you for recognizing the vulnerability of this. I don't think my story is particularly moving, but I do hope I can some how some way be a part of changing the conversation.

Me: Ah! That's so much! I'm glad you've found something you love doing. You're seriously amazing at it.

Tabitha: Thank you! That means a lot - truly.

Me: Is there anything else you feel like you wanted to talk about that I missed?

Tabitha: Only that I wish my anxiety and depression could have been recognized as a child and dealt with then. Hinds sight is 20/20 and how much I could have benefited from therapy and counseling as a 4-year-old, 10-year-old, 17-year-old. Of course I could have never predicted a head injury that would worsen these symptoms. I am particularly passionate about reaching out to children dealing with mental health issues. In a perfect world, that is the population I would be working with.

Thank you for taking the time to listen and doing this series, Bre!

You are reaching so many hearts and changing lives. You really are.

Me: That is definitely going to be added. It's important! Thanks for including that, friend. You are helping change lives, sister. Really and truly so grateful for you and your story.

--

Listening to Tabitha’s story was heartbreaking. After receiving this traumatic brain injury, she endured a kind of silent protest to mask what was really going on. Her anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts and ultimate actions, though, were heavy and deep and real. Listening to how Tabitha’s husband and her family have been so supportive through this process was inspiring. Support is the bridge we cross to health!

I went into this interview thinking Tabitha had never suffered from these mental health conditions before, but I learned that Tabitha did indeed need help from a young age; perhaps, had she received help, she would have certain tools now to learn how to cope easier? This taught me just how presumptuous I can be with those who are outgoing and fun. 

Truly, we don’t know until we ask.

Tabitha, again, thank you. You are worthy of a beautiful, abundant life. I pray that your good days are the best days, and your bad days are carried by those around you. 

You can check out Tabitha’s makeup website here.

xo Bre

[seeingstigma-blog]

Our LGBTQ Community: Chase

It is a cold Thursday night here in Chicago, but according to Accuweather.com, Texas is a balmy 66 degrees. My cold toes curl in jealously. Chicago’s cold night meets a Texas balmy night as I talk with Chase.

Chase is 20-years-old and currently lives in Houston, TX. We met back in 2013 as we served together on the same photography team for an event at our church. Yes, that means Chase once lived here in Chicago. We’ll get to those details later. Chase loves photography and art, used to attend Church regularly, and he is also attracted to the same sex. 

Let’s listen to Chase’s story.

---

Bre: Chase! So excited to get this started.

Chase: Me too!

Bre: Let's start with the fun and easy facts. How old are you? And where do you currently live?

Chase: I am 20-years-old and currently residing in Houston, TX.

Bre: Have you ever done anything like this since coming out? By "this" I mean give yourself a platform to talk.

Chase: I have never done anything that has been recorded or exposed to a wide audience (such as the Internet). The only times I've given my stories have been in one-on-one conversations.

Bre: Well, I'm really honored. How are you feeling now about this?

Chase: I'm feeling great! Since coming out in 2013 I've taken a new turn on the whole idea of being a gay male (male, used loosely). Back when you and I knew each other, and before, I was incredibly secretive and shy. If someone had asked me to talk about myself in the way you're about to, I would've absolutely denied it. As of recent, I feel like I have been more of an open book than I've ever been!

Bre: That is wonderful to hear, Chase. I'm really happy you're feeling at home with yourself and confident in who you are. Let's talk about the years before 2013.

Chase: Go for it.

Bre: At what age did you begin to recognize that you have feelings for the same sex? And how did you process that as you got older?

Chase: Looking back on it, the signs were always there. When I was actually in the moment, living it, I started to really acknowledge it was a thing when I was in 4th/5th grade. And I grew to resent myself more and more as I got older.

I was in a curve where the whole concept of sexuality was not accepted at all. The redeeming factor was that I had youth pastors who were not of the same mindset. I won't say they encouraged it in anyway, but they didn't deny it in the same way the head pastors did.

That was probably my one saving grace in my youth. Otherwise, there's a very strong implication that I wouldn't even be having this conversation with you right now.

Bre: I've heard that age time and time again. I think it is incredible that you had very supportive people within the church for you. Talk about a real saving grace. I want to sit with that resentment you felt towards yourself for a second. What did that look like for you? What kind of thoughts were you having about yourself?

Chase: I always hear people say that they thought that God made a mistake with them. They think of themselves as accidents or what have you. One of my coping mechanisms was that I didn't believe that I was a mistake, but that my sexuality was meant to be a learning experience. At the time, I convinced myself that I was bisexual. (Which is a very real thing, but it wasn't for me.) So I told myself that it would be my weight to carry but it would be something I would never act on.

Bre: Kind of like your thorn in the flesh?

Chase: Yeah that was actually very much my mindset. I tried to date girls. I kissed a few. Went on dates. Had girlfriends. It was never fulfilling.

Bre: Was your desire to date girls and even go through with kissing them anything to do with what others expected of you? Your parents, friends, church community?

Chase: Oh, absolutely. It's society's expectation. From a young age, even as young as a few months old, you see parents joking about how their son is checking out some girl or vice versa with their daughters. Hollywood has romanticized and normalized heterosexuality (to create and reinforce heteronormativity). Granted, Hollywood and indie directors are starting to do a better job about same sex and other types of relationships.

And it's not even so much about condemning same sex and other types of relationships (that comes later) but where society assumes that every child is born to be heterosexual. Similar, in the sense that if you're born with a penis, you're male. And if you have a vagina, you're by default a girl. Which is not always the truth.

Assuming can be incredibly dangerous to a person's well-being.

Bre: I agree - assuming anything about anyone is a dangerous game to play. And we are all are born into a social construct that we may not always fit into.

Did you grow up in a Christian home?

Chase: Loosely. My mom would take my sister and me to church every Sunday. My dad would stay home every week because he "got his fill as a child." I got the Sunday aspects from them, but there really wasn't much reinforcement or teaching from my parents at home.

We were Sunday Christians.

Until I started to become incredibly involved in high school.

Bre: That's interesting, because when I met you, you seemed very involved with church. Maybe it's a bad assumption (there I go assuming). So was it ultimately joining a youth group at church that you started your own path with God?

Chase: Oh yes, when I was in high school I was up at my Houston church almost every day, if not every day. I had, more or less, replaced my parents with my youth pastors. Which, looking back on it, was probably incredibly stressful on them and I feel really bad about it. My first job was through the church and I interned every summer I could with them. It actually got bad enough that one of them had to tell me to back off. And they were definitely right to do so!

Bre: It seems like church was really important to you. Is that the time period that you walked around with this feeling that your feelings were a thorn in your flesh?

Chase: Yes! I was most definitely overcompensating for the self-hate I was feeling. That's not to say I didn't believe in what I was doing, but I was definitely doing some cover-up work.

Bre: I'm really sad to see that you had suffered through the self-hate cycle. Did you ever consider harming yourself? Or was this feeling you knew you just had to live with?

Chase: I used to cut myself a lot

I stopped after my freshman year of high school. That was right about when I got heavily involved in church.

Bre: Wow, Chase. I'm really sorry to hear that. It is so alarming to me that statistics show LGBT youth are four times more likely to attempt or commit suicide. What would you now tell someone who is a part of the LGBTQ community, but suffering silently with suicidal thoughts or cutting?

Chase: I hate to go with the super cliché "it gets better" theme because the harsh reality is that, for some people, it doesn't. I am fortunate enough that I have parents who have learned to support me and I have some truly incredible friends for support. After talking to other people in the community, I've discovered that there are people who never find that.

Self-confidence is incredibly important. Learning to love the skin and soul you're in is absolutely invaluable.

To be absolutely honest, it wasn't until I learned to stop giving a fuck about what society thought about me or what I did that I was able to take a deep breath and be okay with who I was. (I apologize for the language but it's the real mindset I had to acquire.)

I didn't finish college, I find dudes attractive, I wear black most of the time, math and sciences don't really interest me - I'm an artist.

The amount of things that make up who I am run very closely in parallel with what society condemns as abnormal. But I stopped caring. I'm going to make my own way in life and I'm going to put my happiness first.

As much as it goes against a lot of teachings from churches - you HAVE to put yourself first. Otherwise you end up diving headfirst in to doing everything for everyone else and end up losing yourself.

Bre: That is incredibly honest, Chase. Thank you for sharing that. I am sure someone needs to hear that in order to fight back for their mental health. 

Once you graduated what school did you apply to and ultimately attend?

Chase: I applied to four schools in total. Stephen F. Austin (Nacadoches, TX), Houston Baptist University (Houston, TX), Mary-Hardin Baylor (Belton, TX), And Moody Bible Institute (Chicago, IL).

I was accepted to all four, but I ultimately ended up attending Moody Bible.

Bre: Majority of the schools you applied and were accepted to are Christian schools. Perhaps it was from those really incredible youth pastors, but you seemed to have a sense of security and safety being a Christian and knowing you are gay. What was it like for you attending Moody?

Chase: Moody was an experience - certainly. And had I been in a better place of mental health I might have done better. But being in a place SURROUNDED by people who had not quite formed their opinions about what the Bible says, and had been majorly influenced by the older generations who had attended their home churches, I felt very discriminated against even without coming out. There was a lot of hate disguised in the form of love. BUT on the flip side of that - I had two incredible friends who, once again, without them I might not have made it to today. Moody was also the first time that I, a) began to attend therapy and b) had any type of experience with a guy.

It was a very pivotal point for me in a lot of ways.

Bre: That's really interesting to hear that it was somewhat positive and also somewhat negative. That must have been a hard world to live in. You and I both know this, but our readers don't: What made you end up leaving Moody and moving back to Houston, TX?

(Also, super happy to hear that you started to attend therapy!)

Chase: To be completely honest, I'm not sure what I told you guys when I was sending emails that I wasn't returning. I had three main reasons. My sexuality was the primary reason why I left. The pressure to be the ideal Christian and the stigmas against homosexuals was a little too much for me to take given the settings. My grades had also taken a major nosedive. I was told by Moody that I was allowed to return for another semester if I chose, but I would be on academic probation. Lastly, I hadn't had the chance to create much of any art while I was at moody. I had a love for photography that I had been able to implement and use MAYBE a total of three times. I wanted to go to art school (which didn't work out) and pursue a career that way. I got to pursue art, but it wasn't the way I had thought!

Bre: Thanks for clarifying that. I had personally heard a different story from a close friend of yours on why you left, but I feel much more at ease hearing it from you. (I was told you were kicked out of Moody after coming out.) 

Chase: Ah yes. I thank that friend for trying to cover for me. They only had the absolute best of intentions!

As far as I'm aware, my sexuality never reached anyone of "importance" who would've had the power to make that decision. Bre: Well, I am super thankful for that clarification. I'm sure your friend really did have the best intentions for you. I know he has truly cared for you!

Chase: He absolutely has! He was and is one of my best friends. He is also one of the best things to come out of my Moody experience.

Bre: I'm also happy that you finally get to pursue art now! I see that you're working at Michael's, too, right?

Chase: Yes, I am! I work as a full-time custom framer at Michael’s.

Bre: As of today, what does life look like for you now since coming out? Are you still following God or attending church? How have friends and parents responded?

Chase: I'm not currently attending church, actually. Especially after coming back, Houston churches are very uncomfortable. (I guess you could say Soul City spoiled me.) And outside of that, I won't say Moody "ruined" the idea and concept of God/faith/religion. But it has most certainly left very large bruises, scars, and holes in my faith. I have always said, and still say, that if I were ever to move back to Chicago, I would go back to Soul City immediately. But until then, I have to do a lot of personal work and I'm still mending my wounds.

My parents actually knew before I even left for Moody. My mother read my journal and I told my father shortly after. Once I came home from Chicago the only difference was, "Sorry, I figured out I'm not actually into girls." So that really wasn't a big deal. Funny enough, once I came back and started telling my friends, almost every single one told me that they knew. Not because anyone told them, but they just knew me well enough that they could just tell. But being the incredible people they are, they let me figure it out on my own instead of trying to convince me.

If there's a reoccurring theme in this whole thing, it's that I may not have a large amount of friends, but the ones I do have are truly amazing.

Bre: That's incredible, Chase. Your story is a beautiful one and I feel that you're still healing in a lot of ways. Attending Soul City myself, I know their heart for people in general. We are always told "Everyone is accepted, but everyone is expected to grow." As if to say, it is not our job to judge or hand out notices of conviction, but rather, it is the work of the Holy Spirit to do just that.

I am really interested to see how God (assuming you still believe in Him) does heal those wounds. I am a firm believer that there are seasons where we feel distant from God, but that he chooses to use our friends to hold us up. He is good, after all.

All this to say, where do you see yourself in 10 years from now? Where do you hope to be with this story of yours? Spiritually, physically, emotionally?

Chase: My biggest goal is to get my business off the ground. As much as I love working at Michael’s, I would love to be able to take photographs full time. I'm confident that my business will help me live somewhere I want to be (Austin, Chicago, etc.) I don't know that I necessarily want to be married at that point, though it would be nice. I know how a business can seriously affect a relationship and I don't want to drag down a partner.  Spiritually, I'm not putting a timeline on anything. If I return to a church in that time, fantastic. If not, I won't force anything. I saw exactly how that affected me last time, and I can't take a repeat. I'm working on myself in my free time and in therapy and it's a slow process but I have full confidence that the end result will be more than worth it.

Bre: Your words "... it's a slow process but I have full confidence that the end result will be more than worth it" are moving. IT IS worth it, friend. You have lived more years in a secret than without, so now it's time to figure out how to live life vulnerably and comfortably.

I just have two more questions.

Chase: No problem!

Bre: One response yesterday sat with me, and I'm curious about your response.

The question was: "What is your opinion of the LGBTQ Community?" 

Their answer: “I think a lot of hate is directed towards them and instead we should be loving them and pointing them to Jesus. One of my best friends is gay and I have struggled with it quite a bit, fearing for and trying to understand his relationship with God, but every time I come back to my only job is to love him and point him to Jesus. We have had some very deep conversations and I know he struggles with it as well, and it kills me when people think he chose to be gay or to have homosexual feelings when that is absolutely a lie.”

What advice would you give this friend?

Chase: She can't force it. Which, as someone who worked very hard to show people that I loved them and that God loves them, I know it's very hard to not smash a vase of love over someone's head!

Keep inviting them to church. Only ask once, when they say no, don't argue or push. Make sure they know that your doors are open when (and if) they feel comfortable.

It's very macabre and dark- but also a reality. You can't save everyone. But you can certainly try. All throughout history, we have time and time again been shown that people will fight religion and God until the very end. It's sad, but it's true. If you let yourself get disheartened by every friend who tells you no, you'll destroy yourself. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't be their friend. (If you walk away, that will definitely convince them that your cause isn't worth anything)

Love from both an arms distance and from a close and intimate hug. The important thing is to remember when each is acceptable and necessary.

Also, why I said she I have no idea.

Random assumption of a person's gender. Even I do it!

Bre: Ha ha, those pesky assumptions. Thanks for that response. The next one is more of sharing with you one answer that was really beautiful for me to read on the question: "Do your beliefs determine your feelings with those in the gay and lesbian community? Please answer why or why not."

This person answered: “I've come to peace with saying that homosexuality isn't ‘biblical’ (a convoluted term to begin with), but also found rest in the knowledge that Jesus was consistently more inclusive than anyone else around him, even on the cross. So I've decided I'd rather get in trouble for being too inclusive than too exclusive.”

Chase: When it comes down to the brass tacks of life- we are told to love everyone. And as much as Christians preach that they do- we are actually some of the worst at it!

But that's just it. Kind of like the response to the last question. We can't walk away and condemn every single person who denies God. It's counterproductive. Every single person deserves love and to be loved. Unconditional love is a concept that is often largely misconstrued.

Bre: Agreed. We humans ... we've so much to learn. Thank you SO much for opening up my eyes, letting me learn from you and your story, and giving me the opportunity to value you, Chase. You are an incredible human being. I'm so happy you are finding hope and healing now.

Chase: Thank you very much, Breanna! As someone who has seen both sides of the fence, I definitely believe that everyone needs to wise up a little. Neither is 100% right or wrong.

I'm overjoyed to see more and more people like you who have the curiosity to discover and learn about others! It gives me a lot of hope. I was incredibly excited when you asked me to share.

--

Friends, 

I listened to how Chase tried to hide and even understand his sexuality. He tried cutting and overcompensating for his feelings, but he ultimately came to the conclusion that it is OK to be him. I find it sad that it took years of repression to finally draw this conclusion. However, I’m thankful he has been given a strong, supportive foundation through this.

I learned that Chase is still finding emotional and spiritual healing from his time spent within the Church. What I also learned is that he doesn’t seem to hold onto any anger towards those who have hurt him. Instead he is seeking healing through counseling and surrounding himself with people who love him unconditionally. 

Chase, I pray you feel cared for and known through this. Again, thank you for your time and for sharing your beautiful story.

You can check out Chase’s beautiful photography work here.

Thanks for reading!

xo Bre

[seeingstigma-blog]

Welcome! 

I woke up this morning with an urgency to write down this idea to begin a blog surrounding the LGBTQ community, mental health/illness, and addiction. So, I’m excited that it is only hours later that I can share this vision with you.

Feel free to poke around and to take this anonymous survey. The purpose of the survey helps me identify the depth of our conversation together.

The format will be interview style with another participate. The participant may belong to any one of these categories, and I will be honored to listen, learn, and offer compassion as they share their story. Will you come alongside me to do this, too?

Let’s see where this goes!

xo Bre