Not What I Thought

I arrived in the afternoon, all was well and it seemed as though things would shape themselves back into normal. My idea of what it would be like returning from my mission was that it would be difficult and heartbreaking. Yet, I was pleasently surprised to find that it wasn't that way. It was joyful and tiring but not difficult. I started to see that I was going to be just fine. All was well in Zion. 

All was well. 

As I pulled in to the parking lot of the church I sat in my car to finish the song that had been playing. I felt it creep up into my heart, anxiety. I stayed in the car a few moments longer then took a deep breath and walked into the building. I was bombarded with hellos and how are yous'. It was overwhelming to say the least. Suddenly my anxiety turned on me, it blossomed into a paralyzing fear. I became afraid of everything in just a few moments of sitting on the pue waiting for the meeting to begin.

As I went through the motions of the rest of the day, my eyes were brimmed with tears. I desired nothing more than to run out of that building crying hysterically. (Which I ended up not doing, good thing right?) 

It hit me as I stared at the sister missionaries. I wanted to be them so badly. I am no longer a missionary. It's over, it's finished, you can't go back. 

So much for being normal.

The problem here is that no one can really feel how I feel or understand how it is for me. It's like someone took away your purpose and you have no idea what to do. It's comparable to being lost in the woods at night during a snow storm. It's unfortunate. So very unfortunate. 

And despite all of it, I shall move forward still, onward ever onward.