best laid plans

I had plans. And then they got derailed. And in the midst of these plans and subsequent derailment, I got sick. Not major sick. Not life-threatening sick. But annoyingly sick. And anxiety-inducing sick. And that took over nearly every thought process. It still is.

Every year I think I will figure out what my life is supposed to be. "This is the year it will all click." Sometimes things click. And a lot of times good things happen, but I'm still left wondering what my life is supposed to be. I've realized in the five or so months of illness that I truly have no idea what I want to be when I grow up, what I want for my life or even where I want my life to be. I've thought, "do I want to move?" "do I want to travel?" "what do I want to do for a job?" I'm nearly 35 years old and have no answers.

Life went pretty well until 18. Yeah, there were hard things. Lots of moving. Few friends. No true friends. CP issues. Anxiety. Lots of moving. But my family loved each other. I did well in school. Good memories.

And then my family started to fall apart. I went to college, which was great but also showed me I didn't really know myself. And then I graduated and two weeks later my family officially fell apart. Then I couldn't find a job because I was too anxious. Mom got sicker. Mom died. Then I felt like grad school would fix things. I graduated. Dad died. And I'm still in the same job I got in library school. Which is a great job, but not the job I want. Not the job that has meaning and purpose, although I'm so grateful for it in the practical sense.

I want:

To have enough money for my needs & not have to budget so carefully.

To wear clothes that feel 100% comfortable all the time.

To help people.

To do things that matter.

To travel.

To not be afraid.

To not fear being alone.

My health.

In some ways those things seem so simple. But I fear change. I fear what happens if I move forward AND if I stay static. And I also feel bored and restless from being static. Maybe part of the problem is picking a direction, a path.

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?