I try really hard to be positive in my social media. To focus on all the good things going on in my life in my Facebook statuses and blog posts. I tend to choose not to post things when I'm in bad moods. Because really, my life is great. I have been so blessed. And if I focus on the positive things more, than hopefully I can ignore the not-so-great stuff and move on with my life to even more positive things.
But this post is going to not be quite as positive and happy. It's not going to be easy to write, but I do feel the need to be vulnerable right now, even though part of me is yelling at me to close myself off instead of opening up. This post is going to be more realistic, though hopefully still at least a bit positive.
This move has been HARD. Really, really, really hard. Which makes me feel silly, because nothing is really wrong. Especially when I look around at others who have to go through things that I could never imagine going through, complaining about how hard it's been to move seems silly. I've been so blessed. I'm here because I got offered a great job in my chosen field of work at a great organization, making a competitive wage. On top of having a good job, I've made some good friends already and have had some great experiences. But for some reason, moving truly has been difficult in a lot of ways and I don't think I fully understood how hard it'd be when I decided to move. I had moved around plenty before. But it was always with my family or around Provo, where I always had a support network. This time, I moved to a place that I had absolutely no connection. To move to do a job I had never done, to try to make friends with people that I had never met before and had no connection to. I had to completely give up my life in Provo. I also had to give up the life I thought I'd have there, which I think is harder in some ways than giving up the life I was actually leading. To start to feel disconnected from my friends in Provo, to see them moving on with their lives and seeming to forget me so easily. I had to completely start fresh, which was really nice in some ways, but really hard in others.
This last week has been especially hard for some reason. I think coming back from Christmas was difficult and that's what triggered some of this. I just wanted to go back "home" to Provo... not "home" to Boise. (And it wasn't super pleasant to come back to it snowing, either.) But I've been feeling like I'm not making a difference at work, since I'm not seeing any real tangible difference in the lives of those I work with. I feel like I'm literally banging my head against the wall sometimes when I'm working with them and I just don't know what to do to get through to them and help them. And since I haven't really been opening up to others, I feel alone. I've been really drained physically and emotionally. I haven't been feeling super close to my Heavenly Father and I've been wondering why on earth I'm in Boise, instead of still in Provo. I felt so much peace about moving here, but it's been hard to trust in that, when I just don't get why I'm here. When I'm not seeing a difference I'm making here. When I haven't started dating some great guy (and in fact, haven't really even met any guys that I'd be interested in dating). When I'm still fumbling to find my way around town. And part of me is just looking towards the rest of my life, wondering if I can really do it. It's not really fun feeling that overwhelming sense of hopelessness, where you just want to cry and not deal with life anymore. Tears have been so close to the surface this week. (Which is really saying something for me, since I'm generally pretty good about forcing those away.)
That's led to several sobbing prayers to my Heavenly Father. And it led me to fast today for some peace and comfort and happiness. For hope that I can make it through this hard time, to the other side. To get why I'm here. To have peace and joy and not just fleeting moments of amusement. And in another one of those amazing tender mercies, that was at least partially answered today at church. A big theme in both sacrament meeting and Relief Society seemed to be about trials and it felt like everyone was talking directly to me... and they were, for Heavenly Father was using them to talk to me. Tears kept threatening to spill over as I was reminded, again and again, that it's going to be okay. That Heavenly Father is aware of me and what I'm going through. That even as I'm being refined, which requires me being in the hottest part of the fire, He sits as "a refiner and purifier of silver", which means he is constantly watching me. Never taking his eyes off me. So that He knows when I have been refined enough for Him to be able to see His image on my countenance.
I keep thinking of a quote by Elder Holland, in which he imagines talking to his past self, and he says, "Don’t give up, boy. Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead—a lot of it—30 years of it now, and still counting. You keep your chin up. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come." (source)
I still don't get why I'm here. I know it's likely still going to be difficult. Because even though I am supposed to be here, it doesn't mean that it'll automatically be easy. I know there are some changes that I need to make in my life. But I will keep walking. I will trust in God and believe in good things to come.
