O God, Where art Thou?
I grew up in the LDS faith. I was blessed as a baby, baptized at 8 years old and served a mission at 21. I attended Brigham Young University-Idaho and there I met my husband, and we were married and sealed in the Salt Lake temple. Typical, straight-as-a-lace, Mormon. Until I wasn't. In a previous post I wrote about being bipolar and how I had signs and symptoms of this disorder in high school. Accompanied with that was a lot and I mean, A LOT of anxiety. Especially separation anxiety. This paired with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome made me a perfect candidate (NOT) to go on an 18-month mission to Nashville, TN away from my family and my doctors. Granted, I hadn't been officially diagnosed with either of these disorders, so I looked good on paper. I lasted 8 months. 8 months before my body said enough was enough. 8 months before my mind said enough was enough. At the time, you could only email your family once a week for 1 hour. I would SOB at the library computer when my hour ...