I know that Heavenly Father knows me personally. How do I know this? He has strategically placed people in my life for days like yesterday. Days where I can't fight the anxiety and depression anymore. Days where I am tired and spent and just want to give up. Days where I feel like I am completely and utterly alone in this world. Days where I can't stand being with myself.
Yesterday he sent me three friends, friends I've been building relationships with the past couple of weeks who knew what to do when I didn't. I am so grateful for these three friends. For the one who knew how to listen and share his own experiences, who let me sob uncontrollably into his shoulder, and then distracted me and helped me feel better. I'm grateful for the two who showed up without being asked and brought homemade cookies and told me funny stories that made me laugh and forget what I was going through. I do not have the words to express my gratitude and I doubt they will ever realize how their small acts of kindness made such an impact in my life.
Thank you, Sparky, Little Red and Snowball.
Monday, November 16, 2015
Sunday, November 15, 2015
I Won't Be With Them
I had a startling realization today that almost broke my heart. In about 5 weeks, the sisters that entered the Missionary Training Center the same time I did will be returning home to their families, having faithfully completed 18 months of missionary service. And I won't be with them.
It's been almost 8 months since I have returned home, and the emotions are still there. The disappointment in myself that I didn't stay in Alabama for the full 18 months. The doubt that I wasn't enough for my mission president, fellow missionaries, and the Lord. The self loathing that I didn't do enough for what I knew to be true. The idea that even though I attempted to give my all, it really wasn't my all, that I could have done better.
I'm terrified that I'm never going to lose these emotions. That no matter how deep I try to bury them, how much I try to ignore them, they will always be there, always with me. How am I to escape them when I can't get rid of the desire to fan their flames? I feel like they have to be a part of me now, and I dwell on them when I know I probably shouldn't. I try to direct my focus elsewhere, such as the scriptures, gospel teachings, Christ's Atonement, the temple, or other wholesome things, yet the negative ideas keep coming back. I'm never going to escape them.
I sometimes wish I could just sleep my life away. How much easier it would be to continuously be in a dream world where nothing goes wrong. To sleep in peace and never worry about not being good enough.
I feel so isolated from the other missionaries that I served with. I follow some other RM's on social media and feel almost left out. I didn't get the same experiences that they did so I feel as though I can't relate to them. Once more I feel like the outsider who doesn't fit in with what everybody else is doing.
Even as I write my thoughts, the Spirit whispers and confirms to me the things I already know to be true. This Earth life wasn't meant to be a dream world. We weren't sent here to be comfortable. We were sent to Earth to work and sweat and bleed and earn and grow into our best selves. This trial will most likely be one that follows me for the rest of my life because it tests and stretches me in ways that nothing else can. We weren't meant to be the same. We were meant to be beautifully different. Our strengths and our weaknesses are opposite and complimentary to those around us. That is what makes the world go round. Our life is about progress, especially in little steps. My friend posted this on Instagram the other day and it is beautiful.
I'm a dancer; it's what I do. So this isn't a disaster, this is just another dance step in my personal dance number. And I can allow the audience to notice that I did the wrong choreography, or I can help them believe that I was supposed to do that and move on with the rest of the piece. I choose to move on.
It's been almost 8 months since I have returned home, and the emotions are still there. The disappointment in myself that I didn't stay in Alabama for the full 18 months. The doubt that I wasn't enough for my mission president, fellow missionaries, and the Lord. The self loathing that I didn't do enough for what I knew to be true. The idea that even though I attempted to give my all, it really wasn't my all, that I could have done better.
I'm terrified that I'm never going to lose these emotions. That no matter how deep I try to bury them, how much I try to ignore them, they will always be there, always with me. How am I to escape them when I can't get rid of the desire to fan their flames? I feel like they have to be a part of me now, and I dwell on them when I know I probably shouldn't. I try to direct my focus elsewhere, such as the scriptures, gospel teachings, Christ's Atonement, the temple, or other wholesome things, yet the negative ideas keep coming back. I'm never going to escape them.
I sometimes wish I could just sleep my life away. How much easier it would be to continuously be in a dream world where nothing goes wrong. To sleep in peace and never worry about not being good enough.
I feel so isolated from the other missionaries that I served with. I follow some other RM's on social media and feel almost left out. I didn't get the same experiences that they did so I feel as though I can't relate to them. Once more I feel like the outsider who doesn't fit in with what everybody else is doing.
Even as I write my thoughts, the Spirit whispers and confirms to me the things I already know to be true. This Earth life wasn't meant to be a dream world. We weren't sent here to be comfortable. We were sent to Earth to work and sweat and bleed and earn and grow into our best selves. This trial will most likely be one that follows me for the rest of my life because it tests and stretches me in ways that nothing else can. We weren't meant to be the same. We were meant to be beautifully different. Our strengths and our weaknesses are opposite and complimentary to those around us. That is what makes the world go round. Our life is about progress, especially in little steps. My friend posted this on Instagram the other day and it is beautiful.
I'm a dancer; it's what I do. So this isn't a disaster, this is just another dance step in my personal dance number. And I can allow the audience to notice that I did the wrong choreography, or I can help them believe that I was supposed to do that and move on with the rest of the piece. I choose to move on.
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