Crappy Mormon.

The little scientist living inside of me (her name is Francis) is telling me that it's the shorter days and lack of sunlight that is bringing my anxiety and depression out of hibernation. When they talk about depression in psychology classes, they fail to use one important adjective when describing it: annoying. It's so annoying waking up in the morning and forcing your emotions to move up a few notches just to get to neutral (not to mention exhausting). Hello, chemicals in my brain? I have more important things to expend that energy on, thanks. As strongly opposed as I am to the practice, I may be forced to consider going tanning (le gasp), or perhaps purchase a sun lamp.

Christmas season has been in full swing for several weeks now (in my head), so I'm getting antsy to decorate. To comply with Bobby's requirements for his own sanity, I'm refraining from my tinsel attack on our living quarters until the day after Thanksgiving (which I actually celebrate and look forward to more than Thanksgiving itself). I'm all about the fake stuff at Christmas. I like the lights and the trees and the animated penguin figurines on the front lawn (I'm still trying to figure out a way to convince Bobby we need the ones they have at Target and they're totally worth the storage space). The religious aspect? Well, we got a gorgeous Willowtree nativity set last year the day after Christmas (another sacred day in my book) that I look forward to setting up, but other than that, I'm struggling. These days, I'm a little mad at God.

*Cue screeching tires*

Yeah, I know. It makes me a little sick to my stomach just to type those words, but it's true (and I took vitamins on an empty stomach, which may contribute to the queasiness). It's been a little ho hum between me and the Big Guy lately, because try as I might, I don't like Proposition 8. I don't understand it, it confuses me, and it's not what I signed up for when I took the plunge. The election happened, and then I thought it would all be over with, and then I'm bombarded by crap STILL whenever I sign into facebook. Jimminy Christmas, folks, let it go (says the hypocrite who obviously cannot let it go).

Then Sunday morning, Bobby got a call. It was his mom requesting that we fast for her and Trevor.

Trevor's my ALB (acquired little brother). For those of you who might not know it, Trevor is probably the best human being on the planet. He probably would have been translated years ago if he weren't surrounded by such flawed human beings like myself that Heavenly Father knew could really benefit from his example. Trevor was born with William's Syndrome and as a result, his mom was told many things: he would never understand multiplication, would never be able to go to regular classes, etc. Trevor graduated from high school on time taking regular classes and was on the honor roll. He did better than a majority of people I know (myself and Bobby included). Another kicker for William's Syndrome is that you end up with a shoddy heart. You wouldn't be able to tell from looking at him, but Trevor is a prime candidate for instant heart failure. As I'm typing this sentence, he could die. Years ago, his doctors told Mom that he needed a heart transplant. She decided against it, and he's coming up on the time where he would have needed another one. When I was first told about Trevor's condition, I asked why he didn't just get a transplant. They do it all the time on Grey's Anatomy, and it seems very dramatic, but it's always the victory at the end. Yay! Heart transplant! You get to live! Turns out though that t.v. isn't always an accurate resource when it comes to such things (though I still stand by Grey's Anatomy as far as learning life lessons goes). If Trevor gets a heart transplant, he's going to have to pretty much live at the doctor's. He's going to have to take lots of anti-rejection meds, and his quality of life is going to suck for lack of a better word. Right now, he's kicking it. He's a vivacious bugger who gets excited about Spiderman and the Hulk and Batman and teaches himself how to play songs on the piano. He sits in his room and plays his electric drumset to CDs and without having taken a single drum lesson, he's as good as the drummers in Yellowcard and the like. He goes out with the missionaries a couple times a week. But when they look at his heart, the doctors can't believe he's able to do much of anything, and at the very least won't be able to do a whole lot for much longer. So the doctors have told Mom that she needs to make a decision: heart transplant, or let him live the way's been living until he doesn't.

I know it all. God has a plan. It's not a good idea to get mad at God and question said plan, as Job so nicely shows us. God sees the big picture, I see a teeny tiny picture. There is life after death, there's the resurrection, and families are eternal. But when I'm mad, thinking all of those things just makes me feel like God's saying that it's okay to make things horrible because He'll make up for it later. I know I'm being insanely selfish, but why shouldn't I want my kids to be able to meet their amazing uncle? Growing up, I felt so cheated when I heard stories about my dad's dad. My grandpa died trying to get my grandma out of a car after a car accident. That alone makes him incredible, and I never got to meet him. I know I will because there's life after death, families are eternal, God sees the big picture, I see the teeny tiny picture, but I still feel cheated.

Yesterday, in church, there was a gal talking about missionary work. She said the most effective way to perform missionary work was living your life the way you're supposed to and through the happiness that's inevitable by living that way, you'll draw others to the gospel. That seems like a lot of unfair pressure to individuals who are experiencing something difficult to feel happy in spite of the difficult. As an aspiring therapist, I can tell you the lack of validation for depressed feelings does not inspire the individual to feel happier-- it instead makes them feel isolated and weird.

So between the lack of sunlight, the lack of Christmas decorations, and being mad at God, I'm a little sad at the moment. I would rather enjoy a kitten right now.