His sisters and I continued to try to correct him and sing more of the song to help him learn that it didn’t stop at the one phrase. However, he just kept confidently blurting out the same line over and over, and with such joy. I didn’t think too much of it at the time, but the more I pondered it, the more it struck me. The Lord teaches us as much as we can learn. He teaches us line upon line until we gain confidence in one thing. Slowly, over time, we learn more and more, but just like the child, in the moment we are blissful with the portion we do know.

Furthermore, I found a second lesson: that there is value and beauty in just trying your best as you press forward. The fact that a four-year-old child was singing that song made it even more cute and beautiful that it wasn’t complete. How many moments in our lives do we hold back because we don’t have everything perfectly figured out? 

As I thought about it, I realized the number of times in just a few short days that the kids just jumped in and gave it their all in whatever way they could. If they didn’t know how to do something, they just tried the best they could. Drawing, baking, basketball — they just tried. They found joy in learning and getting better. When facing an obstacle, they just pressed on. 

For example, the 9-year-old girl had a vision of a pinwheel in her mind (a recipe a previous sitter had created). She talked about it and asked over and over if we could please create it. She couldn’t really remember anything beyond the fact that it tasted good, and a list of a few ingredients that she believed it contained. So we went to the store and purchased the ingredients. I was skeptical when she described the creation, but I helped her along and followed her instructions. We created some edible type of food. In my mind, it was messy, but in her mind, it was a masterpiece. She was so proud of herself for remembering all of the steps and putting things together in a way that it tasted just how she remembered. 

She overcame obstacles along the way. Her older sister kept telling her it wasn’t possible. “You don’t even know the recipe; why do you want to try?” We didn’t have everything at the house that she needed, so she asked if we could go and get it. She picked out each item with great thought and care. When everything was together, she jumped into action and worked with zeal towards her vision.  

What if we approached life as a child? What if the next time we had an obstacle or opportunity that was bigger than us, we jumped all in and did our best no matter the outcome? What would the results be? Would we teach a lesson with a one-sentence song, or create a new meal for our family? Even if it doesn’t turn out, what do we have to lose in the process? 

Line upon line, we get to grow and create our lives. We aren’t in it alone. There are people who cross our paths for a short time and family who are around a little longer — and most importantly, Heavenly Father really is here watching over us and cheering us on as we learn, grow and progress. I believe He assists us all along the way. It is up to us, for as Patricia Holland said, “We must have the courage to be imperfect while striving for perfection.” 

Ashley Dewey

Ashley Dewey is extremely talented at being single. Hobbies include awkward conversations with members of the opposite sex, repelling third dates, talking to boys about their girl problems and to girls about their boy problems. In her spare time she also has a very fulfilling school life, work life, and social life.

Besides being a professional single, Ashley is also a BYU graduate with a degree in linguistics (Aka word nerd). She enjoys studying other languages, particularly American Sign Language, and finds most all of them fascinating. She is currently pursuing a masters degree in Teaching English as a Second Language.

Ashley works most of the time and has often been accused of being a workaholic. Currently she works full time as a merchandiser and supervisor in a retail store, and part time doing social media work. On her day off she works (really it doesn’t feel like work) in the Provo LDS temple. The only kind of work she finds difficulty focusing on is house work.

Her favorite activities in her free time are reading, writing, creating social experiments, and spending time with great friends and family. Specific activities with those family and friends include: going to concerts, plays, dance recitals, BYU basketball and football games, and watching sports on television.

After a year of intense experiences, the truth is that I am still striving to find the lighthouse every day. Some days my view is clear and focused, and other days I have to look long and hard through the clouds to see even a glimpse of the light. L. Todd Budge said it best: “Trusting in the Lord includes trusting in His timing and requires patience and endurance that outlast the storms of life.” This endurance to outlast the storms of life describes my life well. As far as a diagnosis, the only possible definition I have been given is conversion disorder. In my opinion, this is fibromyalgia of the brain—or, in other words, “Something is happening to you, but we don’t have a solid reason as to why.” Even more confusing, the psychiatrists and neurologists keep sending me back and forth to each other. So even if I do have the disorder, there is no agreed treatment plan. 

The lack of solid answers has been frustrating, but it has also led to a beautiful dependence on a loving God. It feels like I am a toddler again learning how to walk, but this time I get to learn with God. The poet Rumi stated:

“Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place.”

That is how it feels. I’m slowly getting rid of preconceived notions of what my life should look like and how I should feel. Instead, I am choosing to accept that I don’t know all of the answers, that I can’t fix everything by myself, and that there is so much more to a person than any illness or other obstacle they face in life.

It’s hard to say which came first, the depression or the doctors, but the reality is that I struggle with mental illness. I’ve been told by people I dated in the past that those with such problems would be hard to love. Family members and friends have pointed out the stigma, but most importantly, I have been hiding from myself in shame and embarrassment. The truth I’m discovering is that my illness doesn’t make me less or more than anyone else. It simply is my trial and obstacle at this time in my life. (We all get different versions of that.) I believe in some weird way, God is using this experience for my good. 

There are many things that I can’t control as I push my way forward through life, but I’m learning to be intentional about the things that I can. Some daily practices have become essential. Getting enough sleep, staying hydrated, surrounding myself with good music and spiritual things, spending time in the sun, being with people, and, most of all, service are what get me through. If I am intentional about those things, the Lord makes up for the rest. Even still, I faint sometimes—and while I despise it, if I intentionally choose to let it go, then I can usually get right back to my life in a matter of a minute or so. 

One day maybe this whole thing will go away or maybe there will be a treatment. But if not, I am working to find meaning and purpose in my everyday life. I gave up a while ago on doing anything grand or amazing and instead find hope in the small acts of goodness that I can provide. I can pray. I can write a note. I can send a text. I can do a little here or there.  

Currently, I’m doing pretty well with keeping the dark suicidal thoughts aside. I can’t guarantee I’ll never have them again. Sickness and weird episodes of varying degrees that are unexplained are tiring. The darkness comes in waves and not always when I would expect it. However, a friend really helped me put it in a perspective that has been working to keep me grounded. She explained that while suicide feels like you are only hurting yourself, the act actually acts more like a suicide bomb, spewing your pain and sadness onto all of those around you. I don’t always feel the purpose in my life, but I do value the happiness of others, so this has been extremely helpful for me. 

Every day I get to pick up a few more of the broken pieces of my life and slowly put them back together again. This comes in small steps like going to the gym four times a week with my brother and sister-in-law. It comes in spending 15 minutes a day trying to clean my room. It comes in answering people honestly about how I’m doing. It comes from chatting with my roommate rather than hiding in my room. It isn’t huge chunks of the puzzle at a time, but slowly every piece is starting to come together again, and I can see that there is more than just a pile of pieces: there is a picture and a plan for my life.

Instead of an ending, maybe the conclusion of my story is simply just a beginning. The conclusion is a new start to the next chapters of my life. Even though I don’t have all of the answers, I know enough to keep pushing forward. I know that through it all, I will have the love of my Savior by my side. I know that my weaknesses, sins, and overall shortcomings won’t prevent me from that love. That love, I believe, is what will heal my body and my soul. 

Ashley Dewey

Ashley Dewey is extremely talented at being single. Hobbies include awkward conversations with members of the opposite sex, repelling third dates, talking to boys about their girl problems and to girls about their boy problems. In her spare time she also has a very fulfilling school life, work life, and social life.

Besides being a professional single, Ashley is also a BYU graduate with a degree in linguistics (Aka word nerd). She enjoys studying other languages, particularly American Sign Language, and finds most all of them fascinating. She is currently pursuing a masters degree in Teaching English as a Second Language.

Ashley works most of the time and has often been accused of being a workaholic. Currently she works full time as a merchandiser and supervisor in a retail store, and part time doing social media work. On her day off she works (really it doesn’t feel like work) in the Provo LDS temple. The only kind of work she finds difficulty focusing on is house work.

Her favorite activities in her free time are reading, writing, creating social experiments, and spending time with great friends and family. Specific activities with those family and friends include: going to concerts, plays, dance recitals, BYU basketball and football games, and watching sports on television.

Coming back onto the grid after my second full-length hospital stay was extremely intimidating. I felt like everyone was watching me and afraid I would break at any moment — or at least, those who knew where I was during that time. Everyone else was very inquisitive and confused by the simplicity of my answer to my whereabouts of the past little bit. My confinement to a small place was lifted. I got my cell phone back that I hadn’t had in four days, and felt weird using it. 

Disconnecting from my phone was really a great thing. It allowed for “less Wi-Fi and more Nephi.” If you haven’t taken a technology break recently, I recommend even just an hour or two here and there. It is a practice I have continued, and it has made a tremendous difference. 

Continuing to disconnect has been valuable because if I’m being honest, I am sometimes still ashamed of my circumstances. I judge myself for having been in a behavioral hospital. It makes me feel as though I am somehow weak or less capable than others around me. At times when I do go back on social media, it can be easy to compare where I have been with the beautiful pictures of where everyone else appears to be.

During this time, comparison led to shame — the same shame that caused me to be vague with most people. I just told everyone that I had been in the hospital and had finally been released because I was doing much better. The simple nutshell version was easy, but also made me feel like a liar. Still, the bones of it were all true. A hospital visit had occurred, and now it was over. The truth is, I still wasn’t sure if I needed to be there or not. 

Liar or not, I was doing much better. It was time: I had to get back to life and one step was going back to work. I had so much to get caught up on. I had been in the hospital for a total of 14 days at this point and had missed about three weeks at my job. Piles of emails, events still to be planned, and phone calls to be made awaited me — and you know what? It felt great! Doing normal life things was a tremendous gift. Too often in life, I have taken “normal” for granted. 

This wasn’t the end of my journey. I fainted a few more times in a few weird places that landed me back in the ER. At this point, it was almost a joke. I would wait and see how long it would take me to convince doctors and nurses to let me leave. My boss once again enforced the wheelchair rule and I wasn’t able to drive a work vehicle. Restrictions began again. 

This truly was an “opposition in all things” experience. The very joy I felt in being normal started to be replaced with sorrow and disappointment. What had I not learned in this extremely long lesson? How much longer would God cause me to endure this impossible and frustrating trial? There were not a lot of answers. 

Soon I found myself sitting in a follow-up appointment with my doctor. It was there that I pointed out that the less medication I took, the more success I had. He wanted to change my medications again and I countered that maybe it was time to stop taking them altogether. Perhaps taking no medications was the real answer. He told me he felt it was a bad idea, but that I could try it for 10 days. I started that very day. He helped me to wean off the one medication that I couldn’t quit cold turkey. A new record was made — 32 days between episodes!!! 

After going so long with such success, I felt like I was on top of the world again (or at least the normal version of my own world). However, I may have pushed myself back into life a little too quickly. After working a 5-hour temple shift and a 10-hour workday, I ended up passed out on top of a box of hangers at a register. It really freaked out the customer standing in front of me, who called the ambulance. I got the opportunity to go back to the hospital again. Guess what? A new medication came shortly after that — but this time I began being treated for some weird blood vessel thing in my brain. On this medication, I was incident-free for another 36 days. One episode in 65 days is a true miracle!

Heavenly Father must have known how deeply I needed this break from it all. It was a relief that allowed me more hope than I can even express. It helped me to remember what it was like to feel healthy. The break in the storm reminded me that while God does give us more than we feel we can handle, He also finds ways to ease the burdens that are placed upon our backs. 

Trials can be a lot like a storm. You can feel peace and calm, and even sunny for a time. However, clouds roll in, the lightning of life strikes, and soon there is a downpour of difficulty. The storm can be light rain drops or hurricanes of hard. Yet through it all, we can have a lighthouse of hope leading us back to where we need to be. 

Ashley Dewey

Ashley Dewey is extremely talented at being single. Hobbies include awkward conversations with members of the opposite sex, repelling third dates, talking to boys about their girl problems and to girls about their boy problems. In her spare time she also has a very fulfilling school life, work life, and social life.

Besides being a professional single, Ashley is also a BYU graduate with a degree in linguistics (Aka word nerd). She enjoys studying other languages, particularly American Sign Language, and finds most all of them fascinating. She is currently pursuing a masters degree in Teaching English as a Second Language.

Ashley works most of the time and has often been accused of being a workaholic. Currently she works full time as a merchandiser and supervisor in a retail store, and part time doing social media work. On her day off she works (really it doesn’t feel like work) in the Provo LDS temple. The only kind of work she finds difficulty focusing on is house work.

Her favorite activities in her free time are reading, writing, creating social experiments, and spending time with great friends and family. Specific activities with those family and friends include: going to concerts, plays, dance recitals, BYU basketball and football games, and watching sports on television.

After my prayer that night, I felt a mix of peace and discomfort. I was so incredibly uncomfortable that I decided to try to sleep. At this point, I had been awake since 7 a.m. the day before and was almost 24 hours without sleep. I tried to lay down on a really unfortunate bed with one blanket and one pillow. I looked over and saw the girl to my right and wondered what her experience had been. Suddenly, I was sleeping in a room with a stranger. I laid there, eyes wide open, terrified for what felt like an eternity. I guess it was only 15 minutes because a tech stuck their head in to check on us. I soon came to learn that these techs check on us every 10-15 minutes. 

via nurse.com

After three more visits, the tech came to wake us up. I quickly got out of my bed and walked around until I found a place where there were other people. A woman walked up and asked me if I wanted any coffee. I replied that I don’t drink coffee, but thanked her. Soon 14 other women were in the room who looked to be in varying degrees of crisis. Their eyes looked sad and hard. I started to worry for them. I was still confused about what was happening. Soon a new tech named Gabriel came and replaced the first one, and I asked him a lot of questions. 

Gabriel became another angel to me in this story. He apologized for how I had been admitted with no information. He gave me a schedule. He explained what we would be doing every day. He told me what to expect. That calmed my nerves and fear a great deal. I was able to shower, change my clothes, and make a call to my brother. 

Talking to him was sheer luck. His phone number had been in my hospital room on the white board in front of me for five days. When I was bored, I would memorize the number to distract myself. In that moment, I saw God’s hand. If I hadn’t known the number, I couldn’t have told my family where I was or what was happening. 

My brother was very surprised to hear where I was and even more surprised that I hadn’t reached out to him for help. My brother had recently gotten engaged and was extremely busy with fiancé and wedding stuff. He also had his 5-year-old son in town visiting. I felt like his hands were pretty full and didn’t want to be a burden to him. I explained all of this to him, but I could tell he still felt hurt. Apparently, my bishop had called him the night before and given him a talking to and asked if he cared or not. I’m sure that was hard. 

A few minutes after my phone call, everyone left to go down to the cafeteria. Because I was a new admit who hadn’t seen a doctor yet, I was kept “on unit” and ended up watching the news while I waited for someone to bring me food. I ate while everyone else was coming back from breakfast, then wondered what would happen next. It seemed sort of anti-climactic because everyone sat in a room coloring for the next hour. 

Because everyone else was coloring, I figured I was supposed to do it as well. During coloring time, a therapist came and met with me. A doctor pulled me aside and spoke to me and took a medical history. Finally, a psychiatrist met with me and asked me what my goals were. I told them I wanted to get off of as much medication as possible since I had felt better before taking them. 

The psychiatrist seemed pleased and surprised since I guess most people go there to get on medication. It was a new challenge. They immediately took me off of all of my medications and replaced them with only three. I fainted only a few times that day. However, when you faint, you can’t leave the floor either. So I stayed in and colored and watched the history channel while everyone else was away at meal times. 

via Talkspace

We began having group therapy sessions. To be honest, at first I thought that it was a waste of time. Everyone else in this place had attempted to kill themselves. I heard the most insane stories. All I had done was faint. I hadn’t felt so confidently sane in weeks! I thought, “How on earth is listening to these extreme versions of stories possibly going to help me?” I had a bad attitude. (Probably because I was now on hour 36 without sleep!) 

We had more group therapy. Gym time. Snack time. Coloring — so much coloring. Chatting with people about their problems. My brain was getting very weary, but I couldn’t go to bed until at least 8 p.m. when meds were given out. Finally, I slept some. It felt good to get that relief, but still kind of weird to be sharing a room. The girl I was sharing a room with talked in her sleep, which was entertaining. My bed was near the door and I woke up often to the person checking on us every 10 minutes. Sleep wasn’t extremely restful. 

The next day, I started by fainting and slamming my head against the cement floor beneath me. I could hear the doctor and his assistants laughing at me while it happened. (Note to doctors: Don’t laugh at psych patients. It isn’t helpful.) I tried to get up to go to my room to cry alone, but I kept falling. Gabriel noticed the struggle and came to assist me to my bed. I laid there and for the first time since being admitted, I wept deeply because of my circumstances. 

I felt like there was no hope left. The doctors once again were telling me I was crazy, and this time they even laughed. It made me feel small and unimportant. I don’t know if Gabriel told the psychiatrist or if he just happened to walk by while I was letting out my emotions, but either way, a new man came in. We talked some more. He apologized for the doctors and asked me what I wanted. He changed my medication again. He also gave me a wheelchair so that I could leave that room with the others. This made a big difference. 

That day I got to go to gym time, mealtime, and outside breaks. I wheeled around the gym in circles. It felt awesome to get some energy out, and also frustrating because I wanted to run or something. However, I had to count my blessings to be out of the same four walls. Feeling the sun and wind on my face while others took a smoke break was amazing! I appreciated the quiet moments to feel the warmth of the outdoors. Eating with others made mealtime go much more quickly, and I even got to choose for myself what I could eat. I had no idea that there were options. I thought for sure I would start to get better soon. 

That night, I slept very well and was feeling very good. I started contributing in groups and trying to make the best of the awkward situation. I started to listen other people who were having extremely hard trials. Their trials made mine seem so minimal. I began to feel an insane love for the people around me. I found myself praying for them during the day and at night. I wanted them to get better and be able to leave too. 

My family was able to come for a visit and my bishopric member called. I got to see my mom and my brother for a little while. It was nice to feel their love and their kindness. They were good at respecting the rules of the establishment and coming when they were able. It was still awkward for me to admit how I was doing, considering where I was at. The phone call, while unexpected, was helpful. It made me feel like I wasn’t forgotten. 

After two days on the new medication, it seemed like I was doing well enough to get rid of the wheels. I didn’t faint any more in that place. Maybe we had figured it out! I was so hopeful. They wanted to keep me longer, but I just really wanted to get out and get back to life as soon as possible. It took some convincing, but on the fourth day, I was released. 

If you have never been in a lockdown, keep-watch situation before, you can’t understand the depth of release and freedom that I experienced upon leaving that place. It felt like even though I got to go through the very depths of hell, God had loosed my bands and set me free. Being able to walk out of there and into the sunshine with my family around me was a glimpse of heaven. 

That moment of freedom reminded me of how many things the Savior has done for me to set me free. This wasn’t the first time He had interceded on my behalf. It wasn’t the first miracle I had seen, and yet I would forget them as I went through the experience. The longer the trials lasted, the more my focus was on the hard and the bad. I learned the importance of cherishing moments of freedom and light. I hope you will stop today and think of what good you have seen, and what miracles you have experienced — it really can make you feel free. 

Ashley Dewey

Ashley Dewey is extremely talented at being single. Hobbies include awkward conversations with members of the opposite sex, repelling third dates, talking to boys about their girl problems and to girls about their boy problems. In her spare time she also has a very fulfilling school life, work life, and social life.

Besides being a professional single, Ashley is also a BYU graduate with a degree in linguistics (Aka word nerd). She enjoys studying other languages, particularly American Sign Language, and finds most all of them fascinating. She is currently pursuing a masters degree in Teaching English as a Second Language.

Ashley works most of the time and has often been accused of being a workaholic. Currently she works full time as a merchandiser and supervisor in a retail store, and part time doing social media work. On her day off she works (really it doesn’t feel like work) in the Provo LDS temple. The only kind of work she finds difficulty focusing on is house work.

Her favorite activities in her free time are reading, writing, creating social experiments, and spending time with great friends and family. Specific activities with those family and friends include: going to concerts, plays, dance recitals, BYU basketball and football games, and watching sports on television.

Back to the hospital we went, and what happened next may have been the most traumatizing experience of my life. I was told to undress. I was not allowed to have any of my belongings and was to put on a hospital gown. A social worker came in to talk to me. She asked if I would be safe through the night. I responded that I didn’t know. Because I couldn’t confidently answer her, she told me that I needed to go into a behavioral health unit to get some immediate assistance with medication management, etc. 

My bishopric member and his dear wife stayed with me while I waited. We became very bonded in that room. They told me stories about each other, and I even learned about their individual struggles. They were so very kind in a time when I was so very frightened. All that I wanted in the world was to feel safe. Their kind presence was stripped away rather quickly, however, when an ambulance driver showed up. A couple of them moved me to the second gurney, took all of my belongings, and wheeled me out of there at rapid speeds. I turned to say goodbye and saw the expressions of concern on their faces. 

After a quick 15-minute drive, I was wheeled into the behavioral hospital where a nurse and a psychiatrist met me and took me to a room for an evaluation. They asked me what I was feeling and had me fill out some paperwork. I explained the fainting spells and how nothing was found physically so I was hoping for mental help to get better. She asked me what I had to gain from the fainting spells. I told her I felt like they had ruined my life and didn’t feel they were super helpful. She asked if I was coming in voluntarily or not. (It felt like a trick question!)

She wrote some notes and took me into a separate room. I was again asked to undress. She evaluated my entire body, noting every mark and scar. I had never felt so vulnerable in my life. She took everything I had away from me and gave me a brown paper bag that had a few things I could keep. She walked me down a hall behind closed doors and dropped me off. 

I wasn’t sure where to go or what to do. I stood there frozen for a moment and then approached what looked like an information desk. I asked where I was supposed to go and what I was supposed to do. The nurse told me to go my room. I asked where my room was since I was brand new and hadn’t ever been there. She walked me down a hallway and into a room where someone else was sleeping. She pointed to the bed and told me that this was where I would be. In about 40 minutes, everyone would be waking up. I asked if was supposed to stay there or what. She told me I could decide and walked away. 

Overwhelmed and feeling quite alone, I began to pray. I started to plead with God to help me and make the most of this intense and terrifying situation. I didn’t know anyone or anything that was happening. God was the only one that I could turn to in that moment. I clung to Him in a way I had only experienced a few other times in my life. He was my friend and He would stay with me so that I wouldn’t be alone. He knew if I was crazy or not. He knew where I was even though I didn’t. 

Through that experience, I recognized that there is some beauty in darkness and difficulty. When you hit rock bottom, the only direction to look is up. Those circumstances reaffirmed my belief in God. They strengthened my faith in Him and His plan. The pain, the fear — every emotion — helped me to understand the value of developing a relationship with Him throughout my life so that in that moment, I would know Him. I hope that everyone has a chance to need the Savior so desperately, because it changes you.

Ashley Dewey

Ashley Dewey is extremely talented at being single. Hobbies include awkward conversations with members of the opposite sex, repelling third dates, talking to boys about their girl problems and to girls about their boy problems. In her spare time she also has a very fulfilling school life, work life, and social life.

Besides being a professional single, Ashley is also a BYU graduate with a degree in linguistics (Aka word nerd). She enjoys studying other languages, particularly American Sign Language, and finds most all of them fascinating. She is currently pursuing a masters degree in Teaching English as a Second Language.

Ashley works most of the time and has often been accused of being a workaholic. Currently she works full time as a merchandiser and supervisor in a retail store, and part time doing social media work. On her day off she works (really it doesn’t feel like work) in the Provo LDS temple. The only kind of work she finds difficulty focusing on is house work.

Her favorite activities in her free time are reading, writing, creating social experiments, and spending time with great friends and family. Specific activities with those family and friends include: going to concerts, plays, dance recitals, BYU basketball and football games, and watching sports on television.

Have you ever felt like you need a rest from resting? For a week or so, I laid around watching tv, reading, and paying far too close attention to the ceiling tiles. My roommate was uncomfortable with me going downstairs because she was afraid that she wouldn’t know if something bad happened to me. This meant me and couch had some good bonding time. If I wasn’t depressed before, these circumstances certainly were not helping me — so I decided it would be best go back to work. 

 The fainting had not stopped. I was still having episodes multiple times a day. I would find myself on the floor or limp in a chair repeatedly. It was fine if it was only me seeing the episodes, but soon my employees and coworkers saw them too. One day I was talking to a coworker and feeling just fine. I guess I had an episode, though, because I came to with EMTs standing over me. I fainted 12 times while they were watching and, therefore, they needed to take me in an ambulance to the emergency room. They watched me for a while and determined that “nothing was wrong,” so I got a ride and went home. 

About a week later, I was still trying to go to work. (Has anyone noticed how stubborn I am yet?) I was in a coworker’s office when I fell to the floor and started convulsing. I don’t really remember it, but she was pretty sure I was having a seizure. She called the EMTs, and back to the same hospital ER I went. They told me again that nothing was wrong; that I was fine. (No tests or anything.) 

My boss didn’t really agree with the ER. He didn’t feel these episodes or me leaving in an ambulance was a good sign. He decided that if I were going to come to work, there would be some conditions. First, I wasn’t allowed to drive a store vehicle (and preferably I wouldn’t drive me own, either). Second, I had to be safety belted into a wheelchair. 

Thankfully, a kind coworker picked me up for my shift every day for three weeks. He drove me and my wheelchair to the office, and he or someone else would also drive me back home. I continued to work, but when I fainted, I was safely in the chair and didn’t have to go to the ER. The lessons I have learned from weeks in a wheelchair range from noticing ADA violations everywhere to learning how to deal with feeling trapped and stuck.

During this time, I met with my doctor almost weekly. He felt that changing some more medications was the answer. He thought maybe the doctors I’d seen at the hospital were wrong altogether and that I now had narcolepsy. We added another pill. Let me tell you, it didn’t help. It made me feel so bizarre and confused. 

One Sunday, I was sitting on my couch once again and was at my breaking point. I couldn’t understand why God would allow me to continue on this insane journey. I explained to Him that everyone thought I was crazy. That day, I’d had 28 fainting spells. I couldn’t figure out what to do next. I had fainted during the sacrament and my friend had to shake me to get me to come to. I was not feeling great and my spirits were low. I looked down at the box (literally a box) full of medication and was tempted to take the entire thing at once to feel better. 

That day was one that changed my life forever. A member of the bishopric reached out to see how I was doing. For once, I didn’t give the “I’m great” answer. I was honest. I explained how I was feeling and how frustrating the situation had become. He asked a few of the right questions and really got me to be honest. He became concerned about my mental state and asked me if I was going to be okay. I answered honestly that I didn’t know. I knew that Satan had been tempting me to finish it off and to get immediate relief. That good brother asked me if I trusted him. He said he felt strongly that I needed help. 

Help. Yes, that did sound very much like what I needed. However, I wasn’t quite sure how I would get that since I felt that working with numerous doctors over the course of months (and even years) hadn’t brought me to a good point yet. I had prayed, cried, tried medication, and worked with a therapist. What more could I do to obtain help? 

The truth is that I didn’t know, but I trusted this man — and more than that, I felt that God had once again placed the right person in my path at the right time. Instead of trusting in my highly-medicated zombie self, I felt like trusting my leader would be a good bet. Listening to his advice was the single most intense and difficult moment in my life. 

Ashley Dewey

Ashley Dewey is extremely talented at being single. Hobbies include awkward conversations with members of the opposite sex, repelling third dates, talking to boys about their girl problems and to girls about their boy problems. In her spare time she also has a very fulfilling school life, work life, and social life.

Besides being a professional single, Ashley is also a BYU graduate with a degree in linguistics (Aka word nerd). She enjoys studying other languages, particularly American Sign Language, and finds most all of them fascinating. She is currently pursuing a masters degree in Teaching English as a Second Language.

Ashley works most of the time and has often been accused of being a workaholic. Currently she works full time as a merchandiser and supervisor in a retail store, and part time doing social media work. On her day off she works (really it doesn’t feel like work) in the Provo LDS temple. The only kind of work she finds difficulty focusing on is house work.

Her favorite activities in her free time are reading, writing, creating social experiments, and spending time with great friends and family. Specific activities with those family and friends include: going to concerts, plays, dance recitals, BYU basketball and football games, and watching sports on television.

During my five-day stay in the hospital, I am confident that I met with every single kind of doctor possible. Some of those doctors made a lasting impression. Some I wish I could forget forever and others I will count in my blessings for eternity. Jeremiah is one of the most impressive people I have ever met, let alone doctors, and has a good friend (a psychiatrist) who also made an impression on me forever.

It was Sunday morning and I was discouraged. I had spent four days being told I was crazy and feeling awful. My occupational therapist, Jeremiah, came into the room. He could tell I was done. I wept to him with the amount of hopelessness I felt. I just wanted to get out of that place and feel good. No, I didn’t want him to push me in a chair to see the sunshine again—I was miserable and I intended to stay that way for a while!

He must have been in tune with the Spirit or something, because he said, “There is an LDS worship service in an hour. What if we go to that for our occupational therapy today?” I complained that I looked terrible, smelled bad, and my hair was dirty. Jeremiah was exceedingly kind in his response. He said, “What if we get your hair washed and give you some clean scrubs to wear? It won’t be Sunday clothes, but then at least you would feel clean for church.” I finally consented, very curious how this would all happen.

Jeremiah left for a few moments and returned with a handful of treasures. One of my favorite treasures was an inventive hairnet that allows you to fully wash and scrub your hair clean while laying in a bed. (They really should market these to all people!) He also provided me with clean scrubs and helped me to change my clothes in a very dignified manner. After I was washed and dressed, he helped me comb my hair so that I could feel less yucky. He even took me to wash my face in the bathroom sink. (Breaking the bedside rule was almost enough to make me shout for joy!)

After I was cleaned up, he took me outside of the hospital and let me sit in the sun for a few moments before he wheeled me into the tiny church room. Shortly after we entered, the opening hymn, “Be Still My Soul,” was blaring in my ears. The talks were all about trusting in the Lord during our trials. One of my coworkers and friends said the closing prayer. It was exactly what I needed to make it through the hospital stay.

Jeremiah was a tender mercy to me and showed me the value of true individual kindness. Every action he took was so generous and above and beyond anything that I could have ever expected. It was good for my heart to believe in humanity again. He helped me to feel heard and remembered as a person and child of God.

In all my life, I hope I never forget how big of an impact kindness can have on the human soul. It doesn’t have to be a really big thing that bring great healing and hope to the heart. Small things can go an extremely long way to make a difference. Jeremiah probably won’t ever remember me by name or even the experience, but it is something that I will never forget.

The next day, the doctors decided that I might have something called conversion disorder and brought in a psychiatrist to speak with me. We talked about how I was feeling and what was happening. He was very kind and thorough in his evaluation. He was compassionate and a great listener.

While the psychiatrist was there, he took time to review my labs and every part of my medical history. He became very concerned that no one had been monitoring my liver. Apparently, the enzymes were 4x higher than they should have been. He was good at helping me to remember that even if I did have mental challenges (which, at this point, he was unsure about), I definitely also had physical problems.

After the psychiatrist’s evaluation, whatever he said to the rest of his peers lit a fire under them. They ran more and more tests: a heart x-ray, EKG, CT Scan, more blood work… The list went on and on. Thankfully, every test came back showing how extremely healthy I was, which meant, sadly, that no one understood why my fainting episodes were occurring. Since it was a mystery, they decided that even though I couldn’t walk on my own, it was time for me to leave the hospital.

Ashley Dewey

Ashley Dewey is extremely talented at being single. Hobbies include awkward conversations with members of the opposite sex, repelling third dates, talking to boys about their girl problems and to girls about their boy problems. In her spare time she also has a very fulfilling school life, work life, and social life.

Besides being a professional single, Ashley is also a BYU graduate with a degree in linguistics (Aka word nerd). She enjoys studying other languages, particularly American Sign Language, and finds most all of them fascinating. She is currently pursuing a masters degree in Teaching English as a Second Language.

Ashley works most of the time and has often been accused of being a workaholic. Currently she works full time as a merchandiser and supervisor in a retail store, and part time doing social media work. On her day off she works (really it doesn’t feel like work) in the Provo LDS temple. The only kind of work she finds difficulty focusing on is house work.

Her favorite activities in her free time are reading, writing, creating social experiments, and spending time with great friends and family. Specific activities with those family and friends include: going to concerts, plays, dance recitals, BYU basketball and football games, and watching sports on television.

The surgery went smoothly, and I felt like I was on top of the world again. I felt happy and strong for the first time in a long time. It was like the sun was shining again in my life. I could eat. I could not run to the bathroom. I could make it through meetings and conversations. It was truly a whole new world. 

The happiness and awe of it all only lasted about a week, then I found myself extremely depressed and anxious that I would have the symptoms again. Back to the doctor I went. When I arrived and explained how I was feeling, I was certain the doctor would stop my medications immediately. However, to my shock, he felt strongly that we should double the dosage. I was not in a good headspace at the time, and so desperate for relief, that I determined I had better do what the doctor said. I began the double dosage immediately. 

After one week on that, I was ready to end my life. It was worse than ever before. Oddly, suicidal thoughts would just come from nowhere. I wasn’t sad about anything specific. In fact, at times I was even happy and laughing and then a thought would come. The thoughts were irrational and spontaneous. 

Due to the extreme success I had been having with that doctor (can you hear my sarcasm?!), I finally decided it was time to make a change. After hearing my story, I was sure he would see that my physical symptoms were healed and that stopping the antidepressant would be the next step. Instead, he decided to switch that medication, add an anti-anxiety medication, and a sleeping pill. 

Soon, I couldn’t get out of bed. The sleeping pill made me sleep for 12 hours a day. The only thing I did was wake up and go to work. I was feeling like a walking zombie, going through the motions. People were asking me questions and I didn’t know if I could answer them. They were depending on me, and I wanted to hide. No one should live their life like that. It didn’t feel like I was living at all. Then the physical symptoms started again. 

On one really bad day, I began feeling extreme shooting pains in the upper left quadrant of my stomach. I fell to the floor of my town home and my roommate became extremely concerned. I was convulsing in pain. It hurt so severely that I couldn’t move, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. It lasted for so long that she called my brother and he rushed me to the emergency room. 

In the emergency room, they ran a million tests and were just about to send me home. I asked if I could go to the bathroom. While I was washing my hands, I fainted and fell to the floor. My head was so dizzy and spinning so much. I felt nauseated and vomited a couple of times. They determined it would be best to keep me overnight for observation. When nothing had changed despite being observed for many hours, I inquired about going home.

 The doctor asked me to stand up and try walking around the hospital. Time and again, I would faint and fall down. They didn’t want me to get up. I am stubborn and after about 18 hours, I determined I wasn’t waiting for my nurse to take me to the bathroom because they weren’t coming and I had to go really badly. I sat up and made it partway out of my room. The doctors were watching closely and I felt confident and successful. Suddenly, my legs collapsed from beneath me and I was on the floor again. 

At this point, they determined that I may need to be admitted to the cardiac unit of the hospital. For the next five days, I was monitored very closely. The episodes only continued to increase in frequency. It got to the point that I was only allowed to use a bedside commode with help of a nurse.

I don’t believe I have ever felt lower in my life. All dignity was stripped from me. Every test in the world was run. All I could see was my medical bill increasing but my results staying the same. I felt frustrated beyond belief, and tired too. Every doctor that would join the discussion would bring another pill for me try. Soon I was up to 13 prescription medications per day. No change. 

This ER stay may have been one of the most trying times of my life, but just like I had help in the first part of this journey, I had help there too. My roommate was quick to respond. She couldn’t do much, but she got me the help I needed. She called for backup. My little brother stuck with me through the entire experience. He waited patiently and watched me closely. He prayed for and with me. He hugged me. He held my hand while I cried. 

It really taught me a profound lesson: Sometimes we need to get others to the right help. My roommate saw that I was in trouble and didn’t wait. She acted quickly and did all she could. She helped me find my brother. The love of my brother felt truly symbolic of the love of my Savior, and I felt like God worked through him to be my support and my strength at that time. I believe my Savior was with me too.

Sometimes we can help, sometimes we can support, and most often we need to do all we can to get people connected to the Savior in their trials. I am thankful for this lesson that has continued with me on my journey. 

Ashley Dewey

Ashley Dewey is extremely talented at being single. Hobbies include awkward conversations with members of the opposite sex, repelling third dates, talking to boys about their girl problems and to girls about their boy problems. In her spare time she also has a very fulfilling school life, work life, and social life.

Besides being a professional single, Ashley is also a BYU graduate with a degree in linguistics (Aka word nerd). She enjoys studying other languages, particularly American Sign Language, and finds most all of them fascinating. She is currently pursuing a masters degree in Teaching English as a Second Language.

Ashley works most of the time and has often been accused of being a workaholic. Currently she works full time as a merchandiser and supervisor in a retail store, and part time doing social media work. On her day off she works (really it doesn’t feel like work) in the Provo LDS temple. The only kind of work she finds difficulty focusing on is house work.

Her favorite activities in her free time are reading, writing, creating social experiments, and spending time with great friends and family. Specific activities with those family and friends include: going to concerts, plays, dance recitals, BYU basketball and football games, and watching sports on television.

To be frank, I had very low expectations for this ward because I had always been taught that mid-single adult wards were the island of truly misfit toys. However, the very first week of its creation, I joined with hundreds of others to check it out. As the meeting began, I was unprepared for what was about to happen. 

The spirit of the Lord was so strong as a newly called bishop spoke. He talked about how there was nothing in the world too powerful to keep us away from the blessings of the Lord. Nothing that we had done, or were, or struggled with would stop the Lord from granting us His blessings. As I heard those words, they touched my heart so deeply. I wanted all of the blessings that God promised, but wondered if I had missed my chance to receive them. 

Bishop further stated that he himself had been a single adult for longer than many, and he would not talk down to us, preach to us about marriage, or make us feel badly about our place. When you are surrounded by well-meaning folks who ask about it constantly and focus on your marital status as a part of your value, what the bishop said is exactly what you need to hear. After a meeting that powerful, I did whatever I could to join myself to its cause.

As you can imagine, with the creation of a new ward, there was nothing in place other than presidents for Relief Society and elders quorum. We didn’t even have an entire bishopric yet.  No one knew if this ward would be a success or a failure, but we were in it for the ride. 

What I have witnessed over the past 11 months as the pieces have been put together is nothing short of miraculous. Many of us found what we needed. We found a place to worship together in the most real and sincere ways possible. We found a group that is vulnerable, open, and honest about how things are going. We have seen so many people come out of the woodwork and rekindle their faith. We have felt remembered of God, and it has been beautiful. 

To read more of Ashley’s articles, click here.

Rather than viewing myself and my new friends as an island of misfit toys (don’t you worry; there are some strange ones!), I now view this ward as a place of friends. Instead of noticing how odd some of us are, I’m starting to see how much each individual has to offer the world. I have seen how we can come together to support one another in some of the most difficult times in our lives. It truly feels like a ward family.

And it feels like our family found home. 

Ashley Dewey

Ashley Dewey is extremely talented at being single. Hobbies include awkward conversations with members of the opposite sex, repelling third dates, talking to boys about their girl problems and to girls about their boy problems. In her spare time she also has a very fulfilling school life, work life, and social life.

Besides being a professional single, Ashley is also a BYU graduate with a degree in linguistics (Aka word nerd). She enjoys studying other languages, particularly American Sign Language, and finds most all of them fascinating. She is currently pursuing a masters degree in Teaching English as a Second Language.

Ashley works most of the time and has often been accused of being a workaholic. Currently she works full time as a merchandiser and supervisor in a retail store, and part time doing social media work. On her day off she works (really it doesn’t feel like work) in the Provo LDS temple. The only kind of work she finds difficulty focusing on is house work.

Her favorite activities in her free time are reading, writing, creating social experiments, and spending time with great friends and family. Specific activities with those family and friends include: going to concerts, plays, dance recitals, BYU basketball and football games, and watching sports on television.

via Bustle

One day I was standing and talking to a coworker when I suddenly began to vomit almost uncontrollably. I was mid-sentence and had no idea this was coming. It made for quite the awkward encounter, but I just assumed I had eaten something bad and moved on with my day. Sadly, my symptoms didn’t improve — they only progressed from there. It was 16 trips to the bathroom a day. When I realized this wasn’t getting any easier to live with, I decided to go to the doctor and get some help. 

What I wasn’t expecting was the answer the doctor gave me. He said, “I believe all of these experiences are related to anxiety and depression.” It stunned me. So many physical problems were caused by stress? He offered me antidepressants. I was extremely leery to begin taking them, but I figured I really couldn’t afford to be so sick at work anymore. 

After a couple of weeks, I was still having physical symptoms, but now I had also developed, for the first time in my life, an extreme desire to take my own life. The medication was not helping in any way with my physical symptoms, and it was decreasing my strength mentally. This was not the best combination — and after I nearly drove my car into a barrier, I decided I better get immediate help from my doctor.

He told me that the medication needed more time to see if it would work and suggested that I participate in an intermittent fasting, plant-based diet that would solve all my physical problems. Once again, I did exactly as my doctor told me. I was extremely strict with this diet and even lost some weight. However, I didn’t lose my symptoms. I began experiencing a dull pain in my side. 

Very early one Friday morning, I found myself passed out inside the temple during my temple shift. The EMTS were evaluating me when a sister from the office came down to see who was in trouble. She recognized me instantly because we had served together for a long time. She asked me about my symptoms and then she said, “Sister Dewey, it is your gallbladder. Go get a HIDA Scan and you will see.” The EMTS were also very skeptical of this diet and told me to go home and eat some real food. 

This interaction was a true blessing to me. I went back to the doctor and told him I believed I was having gallbladder issues and would like to have the scan. He countered that an ultrasound should be done first, but he didn’t believe we would find anything. He was certain that nothing was wrong. He reminded me to go therapy and continue to take my medication. 

The day of the ultrasound came, and I had a feeling in my gut that something was wrong. They did the procedure, but the results came back clean. Somehow, I’d had a feeling that the results would come back that way. My doctor wanted to continue the diet and not worry about anything else, but something inside of me was not content. I prayed with all earnestness that he would somehow agree to the other test. 

After begging him, he finally agreed that because I had good insurance, I could have the procedure. I woke up early and was blessed to have the chance to fast before going in for the test. While the fasting was just so the procedure could function, I felt like it was the perfect opportunity to fast for answers. I don’t think I have ever prayed more consistently during a fast than I did that day. I pleaded with the Lord to please help me figure out how to stop all of my symptoms so I could function again. 

Answers can come from unexpected people at unexpected times!

Two days later, my doctor called with the results: “Ashley, your gallbladder is only functioning at 13%. Would you like to schedule a surgery to take it out?” That probably doesn’t sound like music to your ears, but it was an answer. It was clear and specific, and I knew what I needed to do. The surgery was scheduled for two weeks later. 

Recovering from surgery gave me a lot of time to ponder about the fact that while spontaneous hard things can come, so can spontaneous good things. Through this experience, I learned some incredible lessons. First and foremost, answers come in the Lord’s way and in His timing. If you continue to go about your service, He can bless you with immediate and personalized answers. Second, you need to be your own advocate because no one else knows you or your body like you do. Third, trust God to place people in your path to help you, because He will. 

Ashley Dewey

Ashley Dewey is extremely talented at being single. Hobbies include awkward conversations with members of the opposite sex, repelling third dates, talking to boys about their girl problems and to girls about their boy problems. In her spare time she also has a very fulfilling school life, work life, and social life.

Besides being a professional single, Ashley is also a BYU graduate with a degree in linguistics (Aka word nerd). She enjoys studying other languages, particularly American Sign Language, and finds most all of them fascinating. She is currently pursuing a masters degree in Teaching English as a Second Language.

Ashley works most of the time and has often been accused of being a workaholic. Currently she works full time as a merchandiser and supervisor in a retail store, and part time doing social media work. On her day off she works (really it doesn’t feel like work) in the Provo LDS temple. The only kind of work she finds difficulty focusing on is house work.

Her favorite activities in her free time are reading, writing, creating social experiments, and spending time with great friends and family. Specific activities with those family and friends include: going to concerts, plays, dance recitals, BYU basketball and football games, and watching sports on television.