Robyn - disability, depression & anxiety

Hi, I'm Robyn. I grew up in a little town called Alpine, Utah. It was very rural. I’m the youngest of six girls. The story I want to tell today is my birth defect called spina bifida, (“open spine”), anxiety and depression.

Being born with a disability, I knew some things were different about me, and I did get teased a bit in elementary school, but nothing too bad. I remember well the moment that my physical differences became an issue for me. I was in 9th grade, walking down the hall at school. No one else was in the hallway, and one wall was lined with windows. I caught my reflection in the windows as I was walking. That was the first time I realized how drastic my limp was. It’s really more of a swaying back and forth as I walk—I like to say I’m like a pirate on two wooden legs.

From that moment, I became extremely self-conscious. I was acutely aware of every person that stared at me, and I knew what they were staring at. I wished all too often that I could disappear. I retreated into myself somewhat. This self-consciousness and self-doubt stayed with me through the years, and kept me from taking many chances, or really putting myself out there. I had always been a shy kid, but now there was fear.

I watched my peers experiencing their first dating and relationship experiences, and I desperately wanted to take part. But I was so afraid of rejection, that I rejected boys first, before they ever had a chance to get to know me. Doing so gave me a false sense of control and security. Fast-forward to college. I still yearned for a relationship. I had dated a few times, and had friends, but no real relationships. I lived in an apartment with roommates, and it was the typical first year of college. I had had a good few years to develop a “leave me alone” kind of persona with boys, and it was pretty effective. I was not a happy person.

One of my roommates, who had become (and still is), a dear friend, was the relief society president in our college ward (leader over the women’s organization in our congregation). With that calling she had a lot of meetings at our apartment, and women coming frequently to see her and counsel with her. My sweet friend sat me down one day and told me that she didn’t feel comfortable having people over, because of my attitude and general demeanor.

I don’t think anyone else could’ve said something like that to me. But I heard her, and I knew she was right. I thought, “I’m going to lose friends if I keep behaving like this,” so I decided to get some help. I was referred to a wonderful therapist who has helped me immensely over the past 20 years. That was a turning point in my life.

A few years later, I was becoming active in my church again, after a couple years of inactivity, and I was thriving. My spiritual life was where I wanted it to be, I was more social, and I was very comfortable in my singles ward (congregation). I had a very close relationship with my Heavenly Father, and I was trying my hardest to do what He would have me do. I was happy, but I still yearned to experience romantic love. I wanted to be cherished; I wanted to be valued.

In my church, it is common for young men and women to serve proselyting missions all over the world. I’m an extreme introvert, and also very sensitive, so thinking about knocking on strangers’ doors and having them reject me was never something I entertained. I started that process, but ultimately was not able to go because of my physical disability. My pride was hurt, and I was angry. I couldn’t understand why Heavenly Father had wanted me to pursue that if it wasn’t going to pan out. I felt lost.

In April I started to go to a new ward (same church but met at a different building.) I made some friends, and quickly became comfortable and active in my new ward. I remember one Sunday, sitting in Sunday school, and looking over at my now husband and thinking, “I just want to meet a nice guy like that.” He was quiet and shy, but kind and friendly.

He asked me out at the beginning of September, and it was everything I had always wanted. He made me feel special. I knew he cared for me—he didn’t try to hide it or play it off. He was proud to be with me. I don’t know when I first realized it, but I now know that Heavenly Father wasn’t asking me to serve a mission, he was asking me to be willing to serve a mission. And it was when I gave Him the one thing I truly can give Him—my will—that He gifted me with what my heart had always desired. We were married in June 2004.

 

Not too long after, I started to experience a depression. I saw my doctor, and he put me on medication. It worked, and we continued on as poor but happy college students for the next few years. During that time, I became really stressed with my job. I was always worried about doing something wrong.

I started my journey with anxiety. It was like a door opened, and the next few years were really hard. Work was agony. When I wasn’t at work, I was obsessing about work—things I had done, things people had said to me—was there anything I had done wrong or forgotten to do? I could not turn my brain off. I would make myself physically ill.

I got a new Dr. and we discussed the anxiety and depression, and he took me off the depression meds, and put me on something for anxiety. It was a night and day difference. I relaxed. I could be more myself. I had way more control over my thoughts. My husband started working full-time, which meant I could quit my job. For the next few years, I was a stay-at-home dog-mom, and I loved it!

I got a calling at church that was really stressful to me, and that was a challenge. I had some of the same issues I had had when I was working. I found the scripture Philippians 4:13 and it really spoke to me. I printed it out and taped it to the door of our little apartment. I read it daily, and it always gave me the courage to do what I needed to do to fulfill my calling.

 

 

During all of this, after we’d been married two or three years, we decided to try to have a baby. I wanted to go to the doctor to make sure my body was in the best condition it could be to have a baby—that there weren’t any issues with my disability, etc. So I went to the doctor, and because I was a new patient, he started getting my medical history. I told him I had broken my hip when I was 19. I don’t know why, but that hadn’t stuck out to any of my other doctors, but this one said, “That’s strange. Why don’t we get you checked for osteoporosis.” So I had the test done, and was diagnosed with severe osteoporosis. I was referred to a specialist, who forbade me from even trying to get pregnant. I suppose if my desire was stronger, I would’ve challenged her or gotten a second opinion, but I didn’t.

We were happy, just the two of us, and we had faith that everything would happen the way it needed to. Like I said, I didn’t have a strong desire to complicate my little world with a child. I know that sounds selfish, and I realized it was. I just wasn’t ready. After we’d been married for seven years or so, and I started to yearn for children.

I went to a different specialist for osteoporosis, and he told me that I could absolutely try to get pregnant; I just need to be careful not to fall with that extra weight throwing off my (already really poor), balance. We found out we were expecting at the end of April 2012.

I went off my anxiety medication early in my pregnancy, because I wanted to do what was best for the baby, and also because if anything went wrong, I would blame myself for taking the medication. That made for a rough pregnancy. I had a lot of anxiety. I remember waking up from naps extremely anxious, or when I had to take an antibiotic for a UTI (which happened frequently), I would get anxious. I had panic attacks. I remember driving in the car on the way to an appointment and not being able to control my racing thoughts. It’s really scary to feel out of control of yourself and your mind. But I made it through, and we welcomed our daughter on Christmas Eve 2012. Everything went perfectly, and we were so happy!

Having a baby in December came with its own stresses. I was always worried about her getting sick. . But she was strong and healthy. We knew we wanted more children, but I had some conditions about that: 1) I wanted my daughter to be at least three years old, 2) We needed to move out of our tiny condo first, and 3) I wasn’t having another winter baby. I had a plan.

I was praying one evening, and something that someone told me once came back to me. It was to pray to Heavenly Father without restrictions or conditions. So I did. And we started trying sooner than I had planned, and guess what? It all worked out how I had hoped. We were blessed with a sweet baby boy in March 2016.

 

 

Life with two kids has been hard. It feels like someone always needs something from me, and anxiety takes a ton of mental, emotional, and even physical energy. I told my husband the other day that it’s like I’m walking a tightrope, and if I fall, I will die. All the while, there are two little kids who need things. I feel like I could die at any moment, but I have to ignore that and feed my kids, get them to play dates, preschool, and make sure they are generally happy and healthy. Kids make noise, and are in constant motion, it seems. That’s hard for me; I feel like I have no control over my environment. I constantly have anxiety at some level.

And then there’s the guilt. I know every mom has guilt—it’s a thing, right? Mom guilt. But here’s the thing. While other moms are stressing because they aren’t feeding their kids enough nutritious foods, or not providing enough enriching activities, I feel guilt over pawning my 4-year-old off on the iPad so I can get lost in a show, or try to cope with my anxiety, or just sit on the couch and exist. My kids don’t get out as much because, yes, my physical disability plays a part, but the anxiety is way more debilitating.

I don’t want to do anything with the kids by myself unless I’ve come up with a contingency plan for every possible scenario. What if we’re outside and one of the kids gets hurt? What if a scary stranger approaches? What if, what if, what if??? I frequently wonder if I should’ve have kids—I don’t know if I’m cut out for it. I feel like a burden to my family a lot of the time. My sweet husband does so much, and is so patient. I would not be able to do it without him.

 

 

I wouldn’t trade any of it. I have grown and learned so much. I have learned to trust my Heavenly Father, His timing, and His plan. When I pray and read my scriptures regularly, that makes all the difference in how I view my trials—even everyday life. And doing those things draws me closer to Christ. I pray to the Father in Jesus’s name, and I read His words when I read the scriptures.

Trials have driven me to seek Him out and get to know Him—my older brother who has, through His atonement, made it possible for me to keep going, despite the feelings of darkness, inadequacy, ineffectiveness, guilt, anxiety, being overwhelmed, and all the other things I feel on an almost daily basis. He helps me hold my ground. He helps me know who I am, and like Inigo Montoya, “I will not be moved.” I have purpose. My life has purpose. I am a child of God with infinite value. Tomorrow is a new day, and in the words of M. Russell Ballard, “There is always hope.”

 

 

If I were to tell myself something before this earthly life, knowing what I know, I would say, “It’s so worth it. There’s so much more. This earthly experience is so fleeting, but the things you learn will be invaluable. You will meet people and do things that aren’t possible anywhere else. This will make you a better person. There will be moments when you wish you could just come home, but hold on. Talk to the Father, and He will be with you. Relax. It will all work out, and you will be home soon.”

My name is Robyn, I'm a wife and mother of two. I am active in my church, and my relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ has carried me and IS still carrying me through the trials in my life.