Closing Up Shop

After some thought, I have decided that it is time to wrap up this blog.

This is my final post, and I will try to keep it simple, but I can't promise it will be short, because I want to tie up any loose ends. I'm not sure anyone reads this blog anymore, except for the times I have shared posts on Facebook. If you have kept following this blog, thank you. My goal in creating this blog was to help others, and so I sincerely hope you found words that you needed in your times of trial.

It is time for me to close this chapter of my life and move on. I had started a book based on this blog. I wrote a lot, but I feel like it is time to focus on other things right now. Maybe I will finish it one day. But now is not the time.

I made this blog to help others, but ironically, I found that this blog really helped myself. I found myself writing words that I would look back on later on a hard day and find I had written the very counsel I needed. Funny how life is like that.

Serving a mission with depression was by far the hardest trial I have gone through up to this point in my young life. But I have learned so much from it, so I am not bitter or resentful. It wasn't the mission I was expecting to serve. And that's okay. When I initially came home, I couldn't look at missionaries or drive by the MTC without feeling sick to my stomach. I couldn't listen to missionary homecoming firesides, because all the guilty and ugly feelings I felt as a struggling missionary would return. But now when someone tells me that they have received their mission call, I am truly happy for them. Because missions are wonderful experiences. They are hard. So very, very hard. I literally gave my blood, sweat, and tears. But I can look back and say that it was absolutely worth it. It refined me, and continues to refine me. I was far from a perfect missionary, but I can honestly proclaim that I gave it my best shot.

The time after my mission spent healing continued to be so difficult. But I wasn't going to let depression win. And I fought. Every day, I fought. I lost a lot of weight from having no appetite. School was much more difficult than my pre-mission days. I remember one time taking four hours to write a simple one-page paper because I simply couldn't concentrate. The frustration of feeling I had lost my identity as the once "good student" was overwhelming. I felt like I had very few people to talk to that would understand. Some friendships were even lost because of that misunderstanding.

But I was also infinitely blessed.

The biggest blessing of fighting my depression was that I had to start my testimony over from scratch. I learned for myself what was true doctrine, and what was simple church "culture." I learned firsthand that the Atonement is quite real, and that our Heavenly Father and Savior are ever mindful of us, even if we feel alone. Their love for us is so real, and without caveats.

I also learned how strong I was. I learned that one bad day didn't determine my destiny, and that bad days are okay to have every once in awhile. I learned that when I took responsibility and didn't blame others for my trial, and really turned to the Lord, I really did get better. It was slow-going. But now I feel healed.

I became more polished. More understanding of others. I still have a long way to go, but I think I am that much closer. There are still wounds I feel. The fear of going back. The sickening reminder of all the mistakes I made, but hoping that it will be okay because I did the best I could with what I had. The fear of reading through my mission journals. One day I will read them again, but not yet.

I made many new friends, some of which I wouldn't have made had I not gone through this trial. I became more empathetic to others who were different from me. I became unashamed of the fact that I had depression, because there was nothing to be ashamed about.

To anyone else that struggled with depression on their mission, I just want to wrap you in a good, long hug and say, "Everything is still okay. The Lord loves you. You didn't fail."

To anyone that suffers from depression, mission or not, I want to wrap you in a hug too and say, "You are so loved. The Lord loves you. Keep trying. It's all going to be okay. Don't let go."

I want to echo Elder Holland's words and say that I know for myself that "broken minds can be healed just the way broken bones and broken hearts are healed." It takes time. The road isn't easy. But it is possible.

My heart is very full right now. I have conquered my biggest demons. I know I will have more trials in the future, but that is just how life is. Right now I am truly happy, and so full of gratitude.

Thank you to my husband and baby, who give my life a fulness of joy.

To Becky, who was a much needed friend during a rocky time of my life.

To my mission companions and mission friends--I have learned so much from each of you.

To my mission presidents, who emulated Christ-like love when I needed it most.

Thanks to everyone who joined me for this journey. May you continue to hold onto the hope that is in Christ, which truly leads to an eternal happiness.


    Love,
        Angela