I was still with Hermana Garcia for this transfer, which was nice. We both loved the area and the people we were teaching. We met a Hispanic member named Dolores during this transfer. She was an elderly lady who didn't get out of her apartment very often because she had a lot of back pain. We frequently visited her to see how she was doing and to sing hymns with her. One thing that I found amazing about Hermana Garcia is that she loved to sing, so we sang all the time.At the beginning of the transfer, I was doing pretty good emotionally. I felt like I was starting to get things under control. I wasn't having as many breakdowns, I woke up actually looking forward to the days, and I felt like I could actually do this missionary thing.
Then, things started to go downhill again.
Not going to lie, missionary work can be tiring. Perhaps it's not as physically demanding as other jobs I've had, but it was emotionally and spiritually demanding. I got tired easily, and tiredness is not exactly a friend of mine.
One day I just woke up and felt like crying. All day. I didn't understand why I was feeling that way. Things had been going so well the past few days. Glancing back at my journal entries, I realized that I was in a really good spot for a couple of weeks. One of my entries read,
"I am so happy, in a peaceful way. Even though we're not having a lot of success, I feel good about this area. I feel good about being a missionary. It's hard to explain, but it just fills me up. I feel like that, even though we're not converting a lot of people, I'm converting myself. I know I don't always feel this way, but I'm so incredibly grateful when I do."
Not even a week later, my journal entry changed:
"...Today I was just feeling really off, and I just started crying. I didn't know why. I've just been tired so much. The week has been really good, but I was wearing out."
That same day, I had received a blessing from my District Leader. Sometimes you just need that extra prayer of support to give you the strength to make it through another day. It did help tremendously. I felt like I could be the missionary that I needed to be. I felt like Heavenly Father was pleased with what I was doing, and that I was on the right path. That same day, it even rained! My mom always said that rain is good luck, so I took it as a sign that things would be alright.
The following day, a little girl in the Escondido branch had turned 8 and was baptized. It was such a beautiful moment to see her dressed in white with her mom, grandma, and siblings there with her. Even though the days were long and hard, it was moments like that that made it all worth it.
One of my best days out of my entire mission happened during this transfer as well: Nick was baptized!! Seriously, best day ever! Sister Garcia and I had been consistently visiting and teaching him for the past several month. We thought that he wouldn't be able to be baptized for at least another year, but after talking with our Mission President, he was able to be baptized. So many people had showed up to support him that day. I think, on that day, Heavenly Father gave me a glimpse of his love for Nick: I was so overcome with peace and happiness for him that when it came time for Sister Garcia and I to sing the musical number, I couldn't get the words out because of the tears of joy that kept coming.
You may be wondering, "Jesse, if you were having such good experiences, why did you feel sad?"
My answer: I don't know.
Depression doesn't make sense. You can be having the best day ever and still feel miserable by the end of the day. Being constantly hot, tired, and sweaty doesn't help matters, either. More than once that transfer I had a breakdown. I don't know how my poor companions put up with me! My stress levels exploded during this transfer. I remember sitting in one Zone Training Meeting that went over an extra half-hour or 45-minutes longer than it should have--and it was already quite long to begin with. I couldn't sit there. We had a special guest speaker who came, and I honestly couldn't tell you what he discussed. I know it must have been important. I know he was probably prompted by the Spirit. I just couldn't get anything out of it because I was so anxious of sitting there for hours.
Seriously, anxiety can be such a problem.
But that wasn't the only thing giving me anxiety. I felt like I had so much pressure to be the best missionary I could be. We had to make sure to have members come to all of our lessons, be on time to all of our appointments. We had meetings upon meetings to go to (why were there so many meetings??) As I became more stressed and tired, my Spanish got worse. As my Spanish got worse, my frustration grew because I couldn't understand what people were saying, and I couldn't teach.
My birthday occurred during this transfer. 21 years old! You thought I would have been happy about it. Instead, it just brought more stress and anxiety. Sister Garcia had gone out of her way to let everyone in the Branch know that it was my birthday. They gave me cards and cakes and such (My goodness--SO MANY CAKES). Looking back, I realize how incredibly sweet it was for her to do. At the time, it only made things worse. I'm normally not one to make a big deal out of my birthday, so being put in the spotlight was very uncomfortable. Combine that with my previous eating anxieties (lots of cakes, remember?) and I was not in a good place. I was very much on edge, tense, and about ready to burst into tears. The worst part of all, my companion took offense at it, thinking that I didn't appreciate what she was doing for me.
Don't get me wrong--I love my companion! I thought everything she did for me that day was really sweet and thoughtful. My anxiety just got in the way of things.
Perhaps one of the worst things that can happen on a mission is to not get along with your companion. You're with this person 24/7. The world may be falling apart, but if things are going well between the two of you, then you can make it through the situation with your head held up. If things were not going well...then nothing goes well.
And that's kind of what happened during that transfer. I just felt like everything I did offended my companion. Sometimes little things I said or suggested would set her off, and the next thing I knew, I was hiding back in my little tortoise shell and not saying a word. I know part of it had to do with the language and cultural barrier. When things got a little rough between us, I couldn't even go somewhere else to be alone and cool off. I needed my alone time, and I couldn't get any.I spent more time in the Mission President's home than I am comfortable admitting. They were just parts of days where I felt so overwhelmed that I just couldn't go out and teach. With the Mission President's wife, we made cookies or played games. It was a nice break. However, whenever I thought about going back and teaching, the anxiety and panic set in, and I just couldn't do it.
One of the frustrating things about anxiety is that it lead you to feeling bad about it preventing you from doing something that you know you should be doing something. This tends to lead to guilt, which then increases depression as you feel like a total failure.So, it was no surprise when I found myself back seeing the therapist again. She asked me what had changed. I don't know--I just felt awful. I was in a fight-or-flight mode, and I just wanted to run. In fact, while I'm writing this post, I still want to run--run from the feelings and memories. I learned, though, that running doesn't get you anywhere--it just makes you more tired. At some point you need to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, and face the problem.
And that is what I did at the end of the transfer.
