Cognitive Dissonance (Day 11)

I'm curious if my blog will have more views today because of the topic, (very unlikely) or because of the attractive figure of the woman walking in the water. If it does get more, I'm going to hope it's the former, but accept it's probably the latter. Either way, I'm proving a socio-psychological point in that--a point will be discussed at a later date.

Gather round, Piggies! (Nod to Miss Barbara Greene.)

Let's say for a moment I stand in the middle of a room full of people, and say "I have a quote to read all of you. I want you to tell me what you think of the quote, and in turn, what you think about the person based on the quote itself. I'll tell you who said it after I get your feedback. Ready?"

The room quiets down.

"I could stand in the middle of a busy street and shoot someone, and my people would still support me." I say.

A few recognize the quote and nod, a few don't.

I ask "What do you think about the quote itself, and who do you think said it?"

"Sounds like a criminal. Someone who thinks they are above the law. Probably a gang member on the rise. Or maybe a dictator?" someone asks.

"Any more guesses?" I say.

"Whoever it is, he's a magananimous ass for saying something like that." someone says.

"Would you consider the person who said this to be suspicious? Would you trust them?" I ask.

People shake their heads no, and the few who recognize the quote either sit quietly or are ready to argue.

"Donald Trump." I say. Then I show them the video where he said it during a campaign rally to prove I didn't make it up.

One of the people who is a die-hard supporter of Trump says "Well, yeah, he said that. But he didn't mean it that way. He'd never actually do it. He's just Trump. Trump is Trump. He doesn't know how to be politically correct. That's what makes him such a great president. He's a wild card. Plus, he's a Christian, and he's all about America. That's what's important, here. And besides, Obama did this and Hilary did this...."

Did you see what happened there? The person knew that was an asinine thing for a man to say, but since he is a supporter of this man, he has to find a way to reconcile the conflict that quote creates in his mind. He knows that if some random person on the street said that, he'd call him a criminal, but since it's the president, and the man he voted for, he now must either admit the president commited a huge blunder in making such a horrific statement, or he must find a way to put a positive spin on it. And not just to defend his man to others, but--here's the crazy part--defend him to himself.

This is called Cognitive Dissonance.

Let me show you two different scenarios so you can recognize the difference between cognitive dissonance and ignorance. Ignorance can be excused, cognitive dissonance cannot.

Let's say you vape regularly. Then someone told you that vaping is actually more dangerous that smoking cigarettes. You have been shown no solid proof of this person's claim, so you might say "You're wrong. Vaping is totally safe. No smoke goes into your lungs, just water vapor. I read that in blah-blah-blah..."

That's not cognitive dissonance. That's ignorance. You fully believe the person's claim is wrong, and until someone shows you hard proof otherwise, you are going to stick to your belief, however wrong it may be. Because to you, your claim is correct.

Now let's say the same person then shows you hard evidence of such. Maybe in a medical journal, or an interview with a respected doctor. Maybe even a celebrity you know and love backed it up as well. A celebrity you have shared on your social media page and sang his praises for being an amazing person who is so smart and how everyone should listen to them.

That celebrity just said vaping is dangerous.

Now you have a problem. If you admit the celebrity's statement about vaping is right, (or might be right) you now have to change the way you feel about vaping; or, at the very least admit you are going to keep doing it in spite of it being dangerous.

Or, (and this is the fun part) there is a third option: You have to come up with a reason in your mind that both the celebrity is right and so is vaping--

"Well yeah..." you say. "...but he's probably being paid to say that. He does so many good things for cancer research and standing up for little kids and so his agent probably said he should do that so it looks good to parents. But I bet even he vapes and just doesn't tell anyone. He's young like me, and don't we all go through that stage? The stage when we are in our late teens and have to learn from our mistakes? That's what I have to do, too. Learn from my mistakes. So if vaping is dangerous, I'll figure it out. But you can't expect me to not rebel a little bit, right? I mean, this is my time to be young and stupid!"

Cognitive Dissonance: Knowing what you are doing (or supporting/defending) is wrong, but creating a defense in your mind for the act itself so that you feel better about not condemning it and changing your belief.

Examples:

Finding out with hard evidence that your significant other cheated on you, but telling yourself that men cheat, and that's just how it is. Besides, at least he has confessed to it rather than hiding it from you. (All four times.)

Discovering the news post you shared on social media was actually not true, but rather than admitting you unknowingly shared a fake post, saying "Well thank goodness it wasn't true, but what if it had been?"

Claiming you really don't care about politics, but when every post you make is political in nature, saying "I just do it for fun. Who doesn't love making fun of current events?"

Calling gay people perverts, then when your best friend comes out as gay, you say "Well, he's not so open about it, though. He's not as sexual as some of these gay people you see on TV."

Making racist statements about the Hispanic population, then when your friend says "My mother is half-Latina." you say "Well yeah, but she came here legally. I'm talking about those Mexicans who are stealing our jobs!"

Knowing eating an entire jar of peanut butter in two days is bad for you (or at the very least, excessive) but saying "Well, I could be eating a lot worse, or I could be not eating at all! Peanut butter has health benefits too, and I eat it with bananas, which have Vitamin-K, and so many people are deficient in their Vitamin K...."

The famous pastor you love and respect defending a white supremacist group by not actively calling them out for their acts of violence, and you saying "Well, I'm sure he has a reason, after all, he's a man of God. Judge not, lest ye be judged, right?"

Knowing you should stand up for your friend who was sexually assaulted by a guy she met online, but instead saying "Well it's her fault for posting pics of herself wearing clothes that are so revealing. She's practically advertising her body."

I could go on, but I think you get my drift by now.

There are two ways you can go about your day after having read this post. If you see you have been guilty of cognitive dissonance, you can either admit to it, and change your way of thinking about that particular incident where you exercised it, or you can exercise cognitive dissonance again, and convice yourself as to why you shouldn't take it seriously.

"Well yeah, he has a point. But...he's___________!"

I'll let you fill in the blank.

Algorithms (Day 10)

Algorithms.

What a cool word.

Let me introduce an interesting fact: You are not seeing everything your friends post. Now, this is actually a pretty good thing, because if you have hundreds of Facebook friends, and each one posted just one thing every day, you'd have to scroll your feed for hours and hours every day to see all of it. Facebook has an algorithm to fix that. The people you interactive with most (and even liking a post is interacting) are the ones you will see most in your feed. Facebook takes note of who you interact with, and who you don't. Then they use that info to determine whose posts you see most, or least. As an example, I have one person from overseas that I interact with daily, and since I like something they share almost every day, they are always in my feed. This works to my advantage, because I get to see their posts daily. Other people I don't interact with often (if ever) rarely appear in my feed. They are still on my friend list, but I never see the things they post. Also, if someone I interact with daily does not interact with me, I gradually disappear from their feed, even if they appear in mine every day.

Eventually, people you rarely interact with completely disappear from your feed. Facebook puts them "out of sight, out/out of mind", if you will.  Then, one day, out of the blue, you remember one of them for some reason, get curious, and go to their page. You scroll for a moment, see something you like, and like it. The next day, they have appeared in your feed again; as if from nowhere. It throws you, because you have forgotten what it's like to see them in your feed. Don't worry, though--if you don't interact with their posts, they'll vanish again in a couple of days.

It occured to me that this is as lot like life. The people you interact heaviest with are naturally the ones you care about most, and the ones you want to keep closest to you. (Whether they are loved ones, or secretly dispised.) You want to know everything they do, whether good or bad. For people you only casually care about, you may only speak to them every once in a while, and so you only really want to see them if they are doing something that affects you, benefits you, or that you might find particularly fascinating. People you don't interact with at all are usually people who don't share in your life, and so you really don't need to hear about theirs either. (Maybe every once in a while, just to confirm they are okay, but for the most part, you have filed them away.) It doesn't mean you don't love them, they are just not at the top of your list anymore.

Facebook understands this, and so if you interact with someone daily, their posts show up in your feed daily. If you only casually interact, their posts only show up occasionally. If you hardly ever interact, you will only see a post of theirs once in a blue moon. When those "blue moon" posts show up from those people you don't interact with, you either scroll past it, and they vanish for another blue moon, or you "like" it, and they show up again the next day.

Facebook's algorithm has another aspect. This one involves keywords.** If Facebook sees you regularly interact with posts that involve SEC college football, for example, (especially if it's a specific team) when someone (regardless of how often you interact with them) posts a status that involves that team, magically, it appears in your feed.  

**You may have noticed this blog post showed up in your feed when you hadn't seen me in forever, just because I included those extraneous keywords in the nonsensical last sentence I put in the status involving this post.

In a way, this is also like life. If someone you rarely interact with suddenly says something about something that you are passionate about, you take interest immediately!

"Why is Karen suddenly so interested in________? That's MY thing!"

"Who the heck does Jessica think she is talking about my husband? She better keep his name out of her mouth!"

Five minutes ago, you didn't even think about Karen or Jessica, but now they are VERY important, indeed! Of course, as soon as you see Karen was only mentioning her thing in passing, and actually had no real interest in it, all is well. When you figure out Jessica was talking about another person with your husband's name, you sigh in relief, and forget about it. Then they vanish from your "feed" again.

Facebook understands the psychology of human behavior, and they have implemented it into their algorith they use for determining what shows up in people's feeds. They want you to keep coming back every day, after all, so you can see the ads they have used even more algorithms to determine will show up in your feed.

Like the one for Oreo cookies that your phone heard you mention yesterday while you were in the cookie aisle at the store. (Yep. That's a thing. Big Brother is watching you.)

So where does this post end? Dear heavens, is it over yet? The point in this blog post has nothing to do with Facebook's algorithm. It has to do with your algorithm.

Every day, you go about your daily ritual of interacting with the same people, over and over. Some you "check in" on or speak to every day. Some you only talk to once a week. Some you rarely ever talk to. For the most part, those people are just as content with this frequency of interaction as you are. Some of them want to hear from you every day, some of them don't. However, there is another group of people. Friends you once spoke with or interacted with daily, but overtime, you found new interests, and prioritized accordingly. Or perhaps the person was going through a bad patch, or dealing with emotional baggage, and their posts were killing your buzz. You come to Facebook to be entertained, not get bad vibes. So you hid them from your feed.

My first blog post (Day 1) got 87 views in just the first 24 hours; whereas my post from a few days ago only has a grand total of 18. This is normal, though. Those 18 people are my readers; the other 70 were just curious (or bored).

Today I have an assignment for you. (For those who actually read my posts, that is.) Click on your friend list and find someone you haven't interacted with in a while. No need to message them for this experiment, all you have to do is click on their profile, then scroll through their feed and "like" a few things. Facebook's algorithm will detect this, and begin putting them in your feed every day. This person who was "out of sight/out of mind" has returned, and you will discover they are still alive and well (or maybe not well) and you can take part in their life again.

By the way, that person doesn't have to be me. In fact, if all of you chose me, there's no way I could return the favor. But if we all chose one person to reconnect with--what might we learn about all we have missed, or forgotten?

Until tomorrow--

Oh! Also. I'm considering continuing this blog on an ongoing basis, just to talk about other things in life that interest me, and perhaps might interest others as well. Relatable things. I'm going for my degree in Psychology, and hoping to work with children who have undergone emotional trauma, and a lot of what I am learning is quite interesting, to me anyway. I also teach social psychology. I'm an artist, and a book nerd.

Would anybody be interested in reading my ramblings? If so, drop me a comment below, or on Facebook. I'd like to know if I am just talking to myself, which is pretty normal for me some days. ;)

Depression (Day 9)

I saw the image below one day online, and I loved and related to it so much that I almost want to have it's words tattooed on my forearm, where many people have put their semicolon.

Because let me tell you something piggies--

That's facts, right there.

End of post.

Depression (Day 8)

This post is important. Mainly because it contains one crucial truth.


People dealing with clinical depression are in a constant state of mourning.

One day, my therapist said "Tell me what you are feeling right now."

I told him I was dealing with grief. That I was in mourning.

He said "Did you lose someone?"

"Yes." I said. "Me."

People with depression, just like people who have lost a loved one, are experiencing grief.

The person who lost the loved one will begin by grieving the person they lost, and then eventually begin to grieve the person they themselves were before losing them. Because that person they were is gone.

The daughter who lost her father will grieve his loss, and then grieve the loss of the daddy/daughter relationship they shared. So she begins by grieving him, and then grieves the loss of who she was to him.

The mother who lost their child when they were just a baby will initially grieve the loss of the child, but will also grieve the loss of the person they were to the child.

The caregiver who lost their friend to cancer will mourn the loss of being that caregiver.

You mourn your own death.

People with clinical depression mourn their own deaths every day. We mourn the person we were before things went bad, or, if we don't rememeber when they went bad, we mourn the moments that things were so good they eclipsed the depression, but now they are gone.

This grief can last for weeks, months, years, or an entire lifetime.

Sometimes, this grief is almost unbearable, and all we can do is turn to God, or if not, turn simply to hope. (Because sometimes, it gets so dark we can't see God.)

The other day I was having one of those days. I was getting ready for teaching my class, and had become so used to holding my little house of cards together day after day, than the balancing act had become rote. Then, a little girl in our homeschool group came over to me, smiled, and sat down next to me and put her head on my shoulder. For that two and a half minutes, the darkness lifted, and it was like feeling normal again. I can't thank her for that enough. I truly believe children have a sixth sense about people who are hurting, and can see it before others even know (or bother to know) it's there.

Please.

Be kind.

Everyone is fighting a hard battle you don't know.

Depression (Day 7)

Looking back over my life, it's quite easy for me to see one particular pattern in regard to my employment. That being, if I didn't enjoy my job, I didn't last long there. In fact, I can give you a quick list of jobs where I lasted less than 2 days before telling my supervisor this job was not for me, and I appreciated the opportunity:

Machine operator at a carboard factory.
Forklift driver at a textile factory.
Small parts packer at jet-ski factory.
Cable spooler at a fiber-optic factory.
Press operator at sheet metal factory.
Part picker at a warehouse.
Overnight stock clerk for a grocery store.
Floor polisher operator.
Inventory clerk for a big-box store chain.

That's probably only half of them. Several of those jobs could have led to a nice retirement package with full medical and other benefits. I didn't care, though. The way I saw them at the time, they were the most boring, banal, tedious, and tiresome jobs I could ever do. So I walked. Every time. To the utter disdain of family members who were raised in a time when jobs were scarce and factory employment for a man was the norm and punching a clock in the morning for your 12 hour shift and standing in one spot watching a conveyor belt go by was what men (and women) did, and you either hated your job and dealt with it, or you took pride in it and hoped for advancement. I vividly remember two seperate conversations where my fathers-in-law pulled me aside and said "I've worked in a factory for my whole life, and while you may see it as drudgery, it's provided for my family. You better get your life together and take care of my daughter and your family. Life's not all about you!"

And they were right. I have nobody to blame but myself. Looking back, I see how I missed out on many opportunities that could have had me in a much different place right now. All because I couldn't deal with one particular aspect that all those jobs have in common. I still have trouble figuring out what it was.

So let's move forward and talk about the other side of things: Jobs I held that I didn't quit after two days. Jobs I loved, and what happened that kept me from still being there today.

I worked for a plant nursery for three years as a teenager. I helped customers and gave advice for the best plants and shrubs to place in their yards, and how to care for them. I left that job because I was told that since there was no opportunity for advancement beyond minimum wage, I needed to get a better job.

In my early 20's I worked for a vending company stocking vending machines. I had seventeen accounts I managed. After two years, the company lost it's battle against Buffalo Rock/PepsiCo and went under.

I was a night manager for Papa John's Pizza for two years, then one day I was called into the office and told my hours were getting cut...in half. I took a part time job in sales to supplement, but eventally the schedules conflicted and since I made more money at the sales job, I left Papa Johns. The company I worked for in sales went bankrupt a month later.

I worked as a floor director for a local ABC affiliate, and at the same time worked for WCGQ radio as the overnight DJ. Working the jobs concurrently made my sleep schedule a mess, but I loved them both. The problem was neither job had any kind of benefits, and having two small children at the time made that very difficult. I eventually went full-time with my photography, and left broadcasting behind.

Photography has been both a nightmare and a complete joy. I think it's because it's an incredibly volatile industry, and most people see it as a job anyone can do. Everyone has an Aunt Sally that has a camera and will do it for free. Plus the ease and affordabilty of digital cameras has made my job extremely high on the luxury scale. Luckily for me, I've been doing it long enough to have an established name and client base, and have the experience to back it up. I have no idea how people new to this business in my area do it. They probably are charging almost nothing and praying for customers, which is what I did in the beginning. Either that, or this is a side-job for them, which is what it should have been for me in the beginning, looking back.

Aside from the photography, though, there was a job I held recently that I loved, dearly. I worked for 2nd & Charles, a bookstore that sold comics, all manner of books, music, movies, and all sorts of lovely nerdy stuff. When I first walked into that store, I knew I wanted to work there. I didn't even need the job, I just wanted it. The current manager was kind enough to bring me on, and I loved it. This was the single greatest work experience for me (outside of my photography) that I'd ever had. I literally looked forward to going to work every day.

Then a year or so into it, there was a management change. The new manager was a nightmare, and managed to run off  2/3 of the crew within a few months of their arrival. I held on for as long as I could, but when my hours were cut down to 5 a week, I couldn't do it anymore. I put in my notice and walked away. Eventually, a new manager came, and I tried to come back to work. Unfortunately, the nightmare manager put a note on my record with the company that I had quit and given no notice (which wasn't true) and requested that I be marked as "ineligible for rehire". I asked current management if this could be undone, and was told "Sadly no."

It was a good job while it lasted, and I miss it dearly. There were coworkers who I loved that the nightmare manager ran off who are in the same place I am now; in different places in their life working full time jobs they either love, or tolerate. There was something magical about that bookstore, though. Maybe one day I can find another job like it.

(sigh)

So what is the point to this blog post? Honestly, I'm surpised anyone would read this far. If you have, you must either be a mental masochist, care a great deal for me, or be hoplessly bored.

This is the point, I suppose: There were wonderful people I worked with there. People who dealt with all kinds of mental disorders. Depression. Anxiety. Bipolar. PTSD. Some are still there, some are not. I made a little "family" while I worked there, and I miss them. Going back into the store is hard, because I want to come back to work, but I can't. I want to help customers and recommend books and sort the shelves and make things look nice like I always did, but that would be awkward if I did it without a name badge, I suppose.

For the people I worked with who made that store so wonderful, thank you. It was an amazing 16 months. Never, ever doubt your worth. For the customers who regularly asked for me, you are the reason I loved working there over and above the books and people I worked with.

And now, for you, the reader of this post--when you go into a store, (be it an restaurant, a dollar store, a big box store, a supermarket, or any place that is a retail--serve the customer--type of place, or any service industry for that matter) don't forget this important fact: There are people there who are dealing with all kinds of garbage you may never understand. People who are struggling with addiction, mental or physical abuse, and dealing all forms of depression and anxiety. Some of them are doing this to get paid, and nothing more. But some of them are literally finding a place where we can put on a smile and do something we can enjoy for a few hours. Something that we are good at. We often feel like we suck at life, such as indicated in the "bad at being a person bingo" card I saw a few months back that one of those coworkers shared, and I had to take a moment to reflect on and fill out myself:

That far bottom right one, though. That's facts, right there.

Just please, be kind.

That's the point of this reckless, directionless ramble. It didn't start off that way, but that's how it ends.

Be kind.

Be kind.

Be kind.

Be kind.

Be kind.

Always be kind. 

Depression (Day 6)

Comedians often talk about those little things everyone knows about, but nobody wants to admit to. That's what makes the funniest comedians the funniest. George Carlin. Robin Williams. John Mulaney. Ellen DeGeneres. They point out those little quirks we all have, but we are too embarassed (or in denial of) to aknowledge.

Today is my birthday (46 years, woo-hoo!) and I'm amazed I'm still alive after all the stupid things I've done. I once stood in a bed of fire ants while they ate me alive just because I was too scared to move. I turned a wheelchair and dirt bike combo into a Roman chariot and almost lost my hand in the subsequent ride. I combined tequila and speed at a party once and woke up 24 hours later in a cold bathtub that was being used to dump melted ice from the coolers of beer. (Hey, at least I can say my life wasn't boring.) So it would seem like today (of all days) I should have zero room to talk about depression. But that's not how life works. Depression doesn't take a holiday just because you have a birthday, get a paycheck, or go to a party. Even if you have an amazing fun-filled day at Disney World, the monster still sits and waits on you at the end of your journey, like a morning hangover after a wild night of partying. So let's get real for a moment and talk about that, and other realities and peccadillos that we all have, but nobody wants to cop to.

Have you ever been scrolling on your Facebook (or social media of any sort) feed and saw a post that you absolutely loved? Maybe it was a hilarious meme, or a witty quote, or the perfect sentiment for your day. You hover your cursor over the "like" button, poised to click, then you jerk your hand away like you've almost touched poison ivy. The person who shared the post is someone you are currently mad at, and if you like it, they will see you liked it, and think you two are okay again. The fact that the post is something you love is irrelevant now; because you don't love the person who posted it. (At least at this moment.)

Another situation: I once posted a quote from one of my favorite books. Paraphrased, it said "Don't dwell on loss, because the things we lose often come back to us in ways we never expected." It got a lot of smiles and comments from people saying "Yes! I needed this today!" I realized later that I hadn't cited the quote's source, but by then I decided it didn't matter. A few months later, I shared it again, and this time I gave credit to it's author. Not suprisingly, many people who liked it before didn't like is this time...because now that they saw it came from the Tao Te Ching, they didn't agree with it anymore. (Because everybody knows unless truth comes from the Bible, it can't really be truth, now can it?)

Am I saying the Bible isn't truth? Hardly. What I am saying is a lot of Christians want to discount anything that doesn't come directly from scripture, even though the loudest proponents of such are often the ones who read scripture the least, and rely solely upon what they think sounds the most "Godly". Many even twist scripture to fit their mold, or best serve the cause they are currenty wanting to promote. Like the image below, which is about the most horrific twisting of the Bible I have ever seen-- Taking a humble, kind, empathetic and loving cupbearer (Nehemiah) and comparing him to a haughty, cruel, magnanimous sciolist like that buffoon in Washington.

(If you are one of the few who shared that post, I probably already unfollowed you. You're welcome.)

Ok, that took a weird turn.  Let's get back to the original idea behind this post; the fact that the funniest thing about the best comedians is they call attention to the big ugly white elephant in the room. (And I'm not talking about the oval office in this case.) Because it's my birthday, I have dozens of notifications on my Facebook. On any given day, other than November 4th, I might get about 10 notifications all day long. On my birthday, I will get about 250+ posts, just to say "Happy Birthday". Tomorrow, they will do the same for other people on their friend list.

I used to do it, too.

But why? Why do we do that?

I think it's a combination of two things. One, we are busy people. I know I am. I have to budget my time and sanity (which seem to become less and less the older I get) to those people who live outside my bubble every week. I simply don't have the mental ability or emotional stability to talk with everyone I know at least once a week. But what I can do is when I see you, I can shake your hand and ask "How are you?"

(For the record, anyone and everyone who wished me a happy birthday is special to me, and I love you all for thinking of me today!) :)

What if we all did an exercise this week? I'm serious about this one, too. This is an optional homework assignment, just like I give my kids in Social Psychology class each week. Ready? This week, once a day (or just once, if that's all you can manage) when you give a gratuitous "Happy Birthday" post to someone, or if you pass them in the store and say "How are you?", instead of just accepting "Fine" in response, I want you to stop and talk to them. It may be uncomfortable for you, especially if you haven't actually talked to them in a while. It may be uncomfortable for them, too. Especially if they haven't seen you take an interest in their day in a while.

But do it.

If you are going to ask "How are you?", don't make it rhetorical. Make it real. Show a genuine concern for the person. Put yourself in their world for a few minutes and share in/bear their joys and burdens.

There may be someone out there who needs that, desperately.

Maybe it's their birthday, and this is the only day anyone will speak to them, and those few interactions will only be through a computer-prompted social media post.

Recently, someone told me "I'm so sad. The only reason I haven't killed myself is because I know I'd hurt people if I did, and I can't bear to hurt anyone." Needless to say, I cried with them, and made sure they knew that I was here for them. There are days when I have felt the same way.

Someone in your life might be in the same boat, and you are the one person they will speak to today day who might offer more than just a rhetorical "How are you?" Maybe you can be the difference they have been looking for. The evidence that they matter.

Be that person.

Class dismissed.

Depression (Part 5)

Imagine for a moment that you are a teenager. Or a child. Or any age, mind you, but I'm going to use the example of your teenage self. You wake up one morning after a restful night's sleep, walk to the bathroom, and to your horror, you discover that sometime in the middle of the night, some unexplainable phenomena has taken place, and you are now the opposite sex of who you were before. If you were a guy, a female body now stares back at your from the mirror, complete with developed breasts, and a feminine version of your face. If you were a girl, all your feminine features are now gone, and you have hair on your chest and chin. Your genitalia has swapped as well, of course.

You let out a silent scream, then find your true voice and let our a real one. You discover your voice has changed as well from what it was yesterday, to a masculine (or feminine) one as the case may be. You clamp your hand over your mouth in disbelief. What in the HECK is going on?!

Your mother enters the room, and walks over to you. She says "Oh, sweeteheart, what's wrong? Did you have a bad dream?" You stare at her, dumbfounded. Clearly, she sees you standing on front of her in a different body than you had the night before. Yet, she takes no notice of this, and continues to speak to you as if you have always been this sex. You are her son, but she walks to the closet and says "Did you wash your pink dress? You'll need it for the party this weekend. That boy you've had a crush on is supposed to come. Aren't you excited?" You panic and run to the closet. Your heart sinks as you see that all your clothing has changed as well. You no longer have any guy clothes. Nothing but dresses and skirts. You do have two pair of jeans, but both of them have pink sequins.

If you were a girl the night before, all your girl clothes are gone, and you have nothing but dress shirts and jeans. Your mother asks if you and Karen are going out this weekend, and if you've kissed her yet. Your dad comes in and says "Hey now, we've talked about this. What he and Karen do is their business, just no premarital sex. Right Sport?

Karen? Who is Karen? You're a girl! And a straight girl, at that! At least you were a girl yesterday, but now everyone seems to believe that you have always been a guy!

Now imagine each scenario as it would apply to you. Imagine being told that the sex you are (whether you are mentally ok with it or not) is the sex you will be. To add insult to injury, you are told that any sexual feelings that go against the norm for the body you have is SINFUL. So the man you were yesterday (who is now a woman; but with a man's brain) should be ashamed of any romantic feelings you have toward women. The woman you were 24 hours ago is gone, and so any plans you had for being a cheerleader are out the window, and your dad is expecting you to join the football team.

If you look at those situations from that standpoint, and are asked "How would you feel if that happened to you?" You'd either look at being Transgender in a completely different light, or you'd say the dreaded "Yeah, but...", which is basically a cop-out for "I don't care. I'm a narrow-minded person who is not going to show any empathy toward my child (or anyone else's) if they question the gender that GOD GAVE THEM. And if I do, I'm still going to tell them it's a sin to be gay."

And you know what? That's your right. You have a right to your own opinion and parenting style.

On the other hand, for the children and teens (and adults also) of the LGBTQ community, I am eternally grateful that there are people (like me and others like me) out there who are both Christians and loving and accepting of the broad spectrum of human beings in our world. If it weren't for people like that, there would be a lot of children no longer walking this earth. Kids who take their own lives because their parents and loved ones refuse to accept or understand them for who they are.

I can hear some of you now: "Whoa, Daniel. This is supposed to be a blog about your depression and anxiety and PTSD. Where did the LGBTQ soapbox stuff come from in this post?"

Please, allow me to explain.

I've dealt with my mental illness since I was 8 years old. For the majority of my life, I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't put a label on it. When I was a teenager, I told my youth pastor about how I felt, and told him I was concerned about depression. He said "God can fix that. Just focus on Him. Bask in the warmth of God's glory and love, and He will erase all those feelings. If you find yourself feeling depressed after having fully surrendered it all to God, pray HARDER. Maybe something you've done--some unconfessed sin--is blocking the power of God in your life."

So naturally, I believed that when my depression did not go away, that I was blocking God's healing. I was obviously sinning in some way, because if I truly wanted to be fixed, God would fix it. (Psalm 37:4, anyone?)

Am I comparing being trans (or any area of LGBTQ) to having a mental illness like depression?

Yes, yes I am. What I am not saying is that being LGBTQ is a mental illness.

Quite the opposite.

If you believe that God makes no mistakes (but people do) then you cannot claim a person who is transgender is committing a sin, or is mentally messed up. Since this is something that has been a part of their mental and genetic makeup since they were born, you must consider the possibility that God wanted and needed them to be just as they are. If you are unwilling to accept this, you are telling the little girl with the boy brain that she is sick and needs to pray more. Or the little boy with the girl brain that he is having homosexual feelings, and those are perverted.

I've lived with anxiety disorder most of my life. While I didn't know why I felt the way I did, my heart was screaming for someone to understand. I was oversensitive (often) and was labeled as being a wussy-boy, or queer. I wanted to play with dolls just as much as action figures, and was told dolls were for girls, so that must mean I'm a girl. I cried when I saw someone else was crying, and so I was labeled as being a crybaby. When I would get frightened of being around older boys, I was accused of being a sissy, and asked if I was gay.

What I just needed was for someone to understand that my complexity was just as frustrating to me as it was to them, and that more than anything I wanted to be accepted for who I was.

I'll have more on this later. A lot more.

Take this blog post and do with it what you will, even if it changes your way of looking at me, forever.

(God, I hope it does.)