heavy

The last few weeks have been difficult. At first, I thought it was simply the time of year and the memories that come with it, but every day things have gotten heavier and heavier and more of a struggle. Nights have been filled with literal and figurative darkness and strange dreams.

The last three days I have felt like I had no escape whatsoever from the anxiety. It started with a negative interaction with a patron that has just spiraled and spiraled inside my mind and has brought with it a sense of regret that I'm not a better person than I am and that I'm not as kind as I wish to be. Added to that is a deep yearning for my family, for an anchor, and for understanding.

BUT, there is good too:

A phone call from an aunt who understands the sense of loss I feel.

Positive interactions with some of my favorite people.

Listening to the radio WAY too loud in the car.

Simple things like finishing the laundry and doing the dishes.

Ordering new rugs for my bedroom and entryway.

Setting up my snowman collection.

The Apple holiday commercial.

Unexpected compliments.

Yearning for home

I've been longing to write lately, but my head has felt almost too full to actually get anything out. This morning I was looking for a quote for the sacrament program and I remembered a talk from Elder Holland that I really liked... well, I didn't end up using that one. Instead, I came across Elder Uchtdorf's talk from the same conference (also really good) and I found myself looking at that:

"God calls to you. God knows your every thought, your sorrows, and your greatest hopes. God knows the many times you have sought Him. The many times you have felt limitless joy. The many times you have wept in loneliness. The many times you have felt helpless, confused, or angry. Yet, no matter your history—if you have faltered, failed, feel broken, bitter, betrayed, or beaten—know that you are not alone. God still calls to you."

Life has been tough lately. I'm not sure why... there isn't ONE big thing that happened or even a bunch of hard little things. I've just been anxious. And my soul hurts. And yet, I still feel blessed beyond comprehension.

A couple of months ago it was really starting to feel like the pressure was too much. As I was praying one night I told my Heavenly Father that I really wanted to go to Skye. Long story short, through a series of miracles, I get to go to Skye in September. And the Jane Austen Festival. Two things that have been on my bucket list since my first visit to the UK four years ago. I'm not exactly sure why, but travel is definitely a pressure release for me -- I struggle with anxiety way less when I travel (which sometimes doesn't make sense to me -- shouldn't being in a foreign country be stressful in it's own way?) -- and I feel more like myself. And more like how God sees me. I feel very blessed for the desire that He has given me to see the wonderful world that He has created and that He miraculously provides the means when I need the escape the most.

When things in my head get particularly bad, I often long for "home," to be done with this struggle and to be reunited with my family. I recently went to the temple and did a few names from my dad's family. And I cried a lot. Doing family history for his family has given me a bit of purpose lately. It's interesting to me because I have no biological connection to these people, but I still feel a sense of connection and of joy when I am able to find them and help them do their temple work.

I feel a particular connection to the UK. I feel like I could go back there over and over and never tire of it, particularly Scotland. As I've done more and more of Dad's family names (who are largely from England and Scotland), I've wondered if part of the reason I have traveled is to foster a greater connection with these people. I've been told in blessings before that as I do family history that my ancestors will help bless my life and give me support and I've also been told that traveling is a necessary part of my life experience and something to bring me joy.

On a somewhat related note, I feel closer to "home" when I travel... my family doesn't feel so far away and I feel the Spirit closer at hand. Traveling "forces" me to rely on the Spirit in a different way than at home. It's a feeling that's harder to hold on to once I return to normal life, although I always try my hardest. I think it's at least partly a desire to connect with something familiar in an unfamiliar place. I remember the first time I was in Scotland on study abroad we were at the National Library of Scotland and the director was talking with my class about the different things that they do there and he mentioned that they had just recently completed a collaborative project with the LDS Church to build a new genealogy resource and storage center in Edinburgh. I remember wanting to cry in that moment, 1) because I was longing for something familiar and 2) because I felt a dramatic sense of "connection" in that moment.

Last night as I was locking up for the night and getting ready for bed I realized that I haven't felt any  desire lately to do anything to my house - furniture or otherwise. It feels complete. I do still want to buy a nightstand (purely for functional reasons), but I don't have the desire to fill my home with things or go on some great decorating binge. (This does NOT mean that I don't want to hang up the stack of artwork in my living room, just that I don't need to buy any more. ;)) It was a good feeling to realize that I feel settled and proud of my home.

This has all been a little disjointed and random, but at the end of it all I feel more settled in myself, so mission accomplished, right?

'I can barely breathe."

{"she became herself with tears" by caitlin connolly}

I listen to KLOVE every day in my car and quite a few of the songs have made it to my personal playlist over the last year or so.

Lately, three songs in particular have spoken to my heart. Even the titles are indicative of where my head space has been the last several months...

"God Help Me" by Plumb.

"Even If" by MercyMe.

"Fear Is a Liar" by Zach Williams.

Each in their own way is about submitting and trusting God. A few months ago I realized that I'm not particularly good at submitting. Submitting and dealing with anxiety can kind of seem to be a cross purposes... how do you submit when fear is ruling? It can be so hard. The interesting thing about this is that my prayers increase exponentially during periods of high anxiety. That's good. And the merciful and miraculous thing is how much my Father in Heaven blesses me in these anxious periods. The one thing that anxiety has helped me to cultivate is a grateful heart. Sometimes I think that's my saving grace -- the awareness and appreciation I have for His intervention when I'm desperately suffering inside my own head.

The last few days He has given me little ways to serve others and it has been such a blessing to ME.  

It's a constant battle. Last night and this morning I really stumbled. And I felt horrible. But you know what? In the midst of self-recrimination this morning I got a text from my aunt about a painting she thought I'd love. She was right. And I bought it. Which is so not like me. I agonize over every purchase that I don't deem "necessary."

There is so much I want for me life. Some of it temporal, some of it eternal. For whatever reason, the timing isn't right yet. BUT, I have so much hope. And that hope saves me. Even when I stumble. It's going to be OK. I'm not sure how or when. but those things I most hope for will be there when I need them most.