The Breaking and the Healing
The thing about breakups is that they only work if you both don’t talk to each other anymore. And we didn’t really do that. We didn’t know how not to talk to each other or how not to have each other in our lives. So the breakup thing didn’t work. I’m pretty sure we (mostly I) was broken all the time because of it and I only had myself to blame for the sting of each text/call I accepted or made. (So keep that in mind while you’re reading this post. We were still talking all the time.) This pain of reopening the wound every time we talked obviously could’ve been avoided. I knew that. But I just couldn’t bear the absoluteness or finality of letting go. Don’t be like me. It might be the hardest thing ever but allow yourself to be happy and just let go.
The hardest part about broken hearts (no matter what kind) is that the only real remedy is time. And because of that, I understand why people drink and do drugs. Because I don’t drink or do drugs, my initial impulse reaction whenever I’m sad is to call someone because I have to talk about it and I need sympathy. It’s the only way I feel less alone.
I was driving somewhere by myself sometime that first week. Driving by myself can sometimes leave too much time for my mind to wander down dangerous rabbit holes and overthink. It started happening again and the pain and anxiety started intensifying so I started running through names in my mind of people I could call and cry to. Someone that could offer words of advice or comfort or SOMETHING that could actually help me. I came up empty. It was like I was hitting dead ends with every thought process in my mind of who I could call. No one could really empathize entirely because no one had been in my exact situation before. No one knew what to say so no one could really help. Normally, when you have a problem, you can just run to your parents and they know what to do or you go to a doctor and they know what to do. Not this time. Normal remedies couldn’t fix it - no amount of money, medicine, nothing - and that was TERRIFYING. I had never felt so painfully alone and the anxiety began to crush me as I tried to face that head on. It felt like I was navigating in the complete dark. That’s when it dawned on me and I realized that the only person who could really help was Jesus. (This might sound totally ridiculous to you if you aren’t religious and honestly, I find it hard to comprehend even if you are religious so just bear with me.) He was the only other person I could think of that knows exactly how it feels to be 100% alone. I mean, He was left 100% alone (literally forsaken) by Heavenly Father during His hardest time so He knows the feeling of being alone and in pain more perfectly than anyone else ever. He also did this so that He’d be able to do His job and be the ultimate healer.
11 And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.
12 And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.
Alma 7:11-12
I had forgotten about this part of the Atonement and I’m kind of ashamed at how long it took me to get this conclusion. “Oh, I could just pray and talk to Jesus??? He knows exactly how I feel, this is all His plan anyways and He’s the one running the show?” OHHHH. lol. 🤦🏻♀️
And when I realized all of this, like actually comprehended it, I started talking to Him outside of my obligatory morning and nightly prayers. I started talking to him like my most trusted friend and my broken heart very slowly started to come back together.
So what I’m trying to say is, if you’re broken, all you need is Jesus and time. Not alcohol. Not drugs. Not other people. Not other distractions because that’s what they are.. they’re distractions, not cures. If you want to really heal, you need to talk to Jesus about it and you need to give yourself time. Time to feel, to mourn, to heal, to move forward. There is someone that knows you and has quite literally felt your unique pain. So, access that reserve and He will somehow get you through whatever darkness, uncertainty, or hurt you are feeling. If this is something you’ve never tried before, I know it sounds insane but it works. I promise.
Mornings post breakup have to be the worst thing ever. Have you ever heard Dreaming With A Broken Heart by John Mayer? It’s the most accurate. Every morning, right when I woke up, the crushing reality of where I was, what had happened, and what my life was now would hit me - almost suffocate me - and my heart would immediately start racing and I’d start crying and hyperventilating. I prayed constantly for peace, comfort, and confidence to move forward...but mostly the peace and comfort because I just wanted a break so bad.
One morning in particular, I woke up with a start like I had been every morning post breakup. Deeply inhaling, nearly hyperventilating, completely disoriented and preparing to fall apart when I felt someone stroking my hair the way my sister used to when she would wake me up. It was the most tender feeling that brought comfort instantly. I can only compare it to what I imagine it must feel like for a fussy baby to be woken from a nap and then calmed by a loving parent. “Shh Shh Shhh It’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay. You’re okay.” I nearly heard those words. I struggled to catch my breath and through my tears I looked around expecting to see who it was but there was no one. I laid there half asleep with my heart racing but still feeling like someone had been there. It might sound silly but my only explanation was that it had been God. It was almost like He had been sitting on the edge of my bed, waiting for me to wake up in my usual heartbroken panic ready to comfort me the moment I came to so He could put me back and hold me together. Even now, no words can describe how it makes me feel as I retell it. It is one of my most precious experiences that I don’t even know if I should’ve shared but am sharing because I am certain it will help somebody reading this.
I got my breathing under control and realized an open window I had not opened myself had been allowing a slight breeze into my room. The wind had been the fingers I had felt running through my hair. So that’s my scientific explanation for this answer to my prayer for comfort but I believe God had sent that breeze and His Spirit along with it to act for Him on my behalf. This was the first of many experiences where I knew God was mindful of me.
That might sound crazy to you and you might not recall having ever experienced something like this before. But that’s why I use the word “recall.” You might just not have noticed. Try paying attention in your day to day activities. Take time to be still and search for the good things. I promise you will see the hand of God in your life in ways that are very similar to what I’ve described.
I also don’t believe God ever gives us more than we can handle. He knows us better than we know ourselves so He definitely knows our breaking points. He will push us to those breaking points sometimes but only to make us better and stronger. Yes, this was probably the hardest I’d ever struggled in my life but I hadn’t reached my breaking point and that’s why He was letting me struggle. He’d provide support, of course, but I needed to learn something. I needed to grow. And apparently this was the only way how. Some lessons we can only learn when we are at our most desperate or broken because it’s only then that we’re humble enough to take instructions. We have to be cut down so we can be molded into the greatness He intends for us to be and knows that we can become. But He wants to see us turn to Him, rely on Him and ask Him for help.
11 If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?
Matthew 7:11
He just wants to help and you just have to trust. And if you do decide to trust Him and ask for that help, the blessings do come and your testimony can’t help but grow. That is when you learn Truth. This is how you really come to know Him.
Once I was well enough to start eating, moving, and living again I realized I desperately needed to make a plan. I’m a planner through and through and I NEEDED a plan to mentally survive this. I couldn’t handle the idea of groping around in the dark of my future. Not having a clear picture or a sense of direction gave me the worst kind of anxiety.
So I got to work coming up with a plan that I would then take to God for confirmation. After all, you can’t just go to God and ask Him what you should do. He expects you to use the brain He’s given you and then bring Him what you’ve come up with/decided. Only THEN will He give you confirmation or an “answer” of whether He thinks it’s a good idea or not. And you’ll know it.
8 But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right.
9 But if it be not right you shall have no such feelings, but you shall have a stupor of thought that shall cause you to forget the thing which is wrong
D&C 9:8-9
And if He doesn’t give you anything then He’s telling you He trusts your judgement and He’s leaving it up to you because they’re all good choices. I kind of hate when that happens, though. Lol.
After a lot of thought, this is what I came up with:
1. Go on a mission.
2. Apply to BYU Provo and transfer like I had always planned.
3. Go back to Idaho and try not to get back together. I really didn’t want to do that and I felt pretty strongly that going back to Idaho was not the answer because we would never be able to stay away from each other and that would be extremely counter productive to whatever God was trying to put in motion but I figured I should still entertain it because maybe I was wrong. I mean, I had been in the past…
I decided to attack the bigger, scarier, more pressing question: going on a mission. It was something I had never been interested in or planned on doing. But that little tap on the shoulder from a friend during the winter had resurfaced and I felt like I needed to address it now.
In the meantime during all of this heartbreak, thought processing, and decision making I knew I needed to find my YSA ward (young single adult congregation). I needed some sort of community. I had just gone from the most spiritual place (geographically) to a home without the priesthood that also harbored animosity towards my religion and I needed some support. I made an appointment to see the bishop of my ward to introduce myself, tell him my story and where I was at with everything. Some of you might think that’s weird but I have always been blessed with amazing, loving bishops who I’ve had good relationships with so I have great faith in bishops. I was still at the broken, leaky faucet stage of my grief when I went in to see him so I sobbed the whole time lol. Awesome. Like I expected, he was wonderful to me and very supportive of everything. It was FHE or institute that night and as I left with my puffy face and red eyes I saw some of the ward members and a couple of them noticed me leave. One guy in particular noticed me and I’ll talk about him later. I came to learn that this ward was kind of small and the people in it were a little different. Most were older than me and were eager to be out of YSA. Most were living at home and just trying to figure life out. The cool ones had lives and were on their way out to go back to their respective schools come fall. (Of course.) I didn’t really click with anyone (which wasn’t anyone’s fault) despite my desperation for some sort of friendship. That was even more depressing.
The first activity I went to was ward soccer (SO NOT ME) in an attempt to make friends. (So you knew I was desperate.) I had a full on anxiety attack (one of many) before it started because I didn’t think I could do it. This moving forward thing was really hard for me. All I wanted to do was to SPRINT back into my comfort zone of my ex and our friends in Idaho. Why was this happening? Why did he happen? Why was I here? I can still feel the tightness of the panic and anxiety I felt in my chest even thinking about this experience. I managed to pull myself together and go play soccer. (Literally who was I?) That guy that noticed me at the church building the first time was there and I could tell he was interested. But I couldn’t have been further from emotionally available.
I decided to fast about going on a mission the following Sunday. Trying to make a decision without God wasn’t an option at this point since He had ripped pretty much all of my old plans out from under me forcing me to hand over the reins. I really needed an answer to move forward and He knew that. I was scared, though. Of the future but also of what the answer would be. What if I didn’t like it? (Hate to break it to you but, initially, you almost never “like” the answer.)
That Sunday I started my day and my fast with a prayer. I told God what I was thinking and that I needed to know if He wanted me to go on a mission or not. I ended my prayer and left for church, willing myself to be open to any kind of answer. Sacrament meeting is held during the first hour of church and is the most spiritual part so as it began to be passed I started silently praying again about the purpose of my fast. Before I could even get the words out in my mind I was cut off. Almost immediately came the words: “No, not at this time.” That’s weird wording, isn’t it? That’s how I knew it wasn’t me lol. I don’t talk like that. I sat there stunned. I had never gotten an answer that quickly and with such resounding firmness. I was shocked because, guess what? “Not at this time” just means “not right now.” I had gotten a yes but not yet. My next thought: Oh gosh. Then WHEN????
So now I had some more options and some more questions to ask. The biggest question being when I should go since I would have to plan my life around that. After talking with my dad (oh yeah, I started talking to him again because I felt prompted to fix things between us) and praying about it some more, I felt like I should put my availability date for Dec 18 - the last day of fall semester so I could finish fall semester and then go. So these were my new options:
1. Apply to BYU Provo and go there/work til I left.
2. Go back to Idaho for fall semester and prepare to leave after.
3. Stay home, work, take online classes and prepare to leave.
I really really didn’t want it to be the third one. I actually started wanting it to be the second. I missed my friends and I missed him the most.
This part is kind of fuzzy but I thought about this for a few days. (This whole decision making process was resolved in about 2 weeks, though. Which is pretty fast tbh. God knew I couldn’t handle any longer than that.) I may have even fasted again but the answer came that Idaho was furthest from what I should do if I wanted to keep any shred of progress I had made and stay on the right path. Then the next part to my answer came that if I went to Utah I’d be way too distracted and would end up not going on a mission. That left staying home (living with my mom) until I could go. I cried about this one because I knew how hard it was going to be on me. I’m not sure if staying home was more for me or for my mom. In hindsight, I think it was God’s way of giving my mom a part of the time she had missed out on with me. In hindsight, it helped us rebuild a lot of our relationship.
Before I continue, I want to point out that getting this answer was very interesting because I wasn’t told what I should do this time. I was told what I should not do. That’s also how answers come sometimes - He advises against all the other options or closes all the other doors until the last one (the right one) is obvious to you.
Once I had figured all of this out, I had to tell my mom my new plan. All she knew at this point was that I was a mess on the floor that could barely eat. I knew she wasn’t going to like the fact that I wanted to go on a mission but I was used to fighting her on things pertaining to the Church so I was pretty prepared for the kind of reaction I was going to get. Just as I expected, when I finally told her, neither she nor my stepdad were understanding or supportive of it. Her response: “That is the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard! You’re throwing your life away!!!!” Stepdad: “I just wish you were into pot instead of this. At least then I know it would just be a phase. This (referring to my religion) is never going to go away.” That one hurt. I had never heard something more ignorant. I expected the backlash from my mom but such a comment from my step dad who is usually logical??? I was hurt beyond words.
And then from my mom: “How are you going to pay for it?”
Me: “Well I’ll work of course.”
I somehow promptly got blessed with three jobs within the next month. I started working at an after school extra curricular educational program (basically daycare with homework), nannying for my neighbor, and selling designer at Nordstrom. Several people also reached out and told me they wanted to help in paying for my mission when they found out I was going. I told my dad this and he insisted that he would take care of the whole thing and told me to decline all financial help from other sources. (Does this sound familiar at all? Paying for college fiasco part 2.) “You get yourself to your mission. We’ll keep you out there. Tell everyone else not to worry about it.” I was extremely surprised and thought it was very nice but I decided to keep my jobs anyways to keep me busy and put money in my pocket for when I got back. I then added 3 online classes to my workload which made me so busy I barely had time to think. I liked it that way and God knew it was exactly what I needed.
Now that I wasn’t going to be going back to BYU-I in the fall, I obviously had to go get all my stuff out of my apartment. My mom and stepdad were so nice and drove me to Idaho to pack up and officially move out. It was a trip and a half to be back in Rexburg under my new circumstances. My ex’s significant sister met me at my apartment to give me some things I had lent her. She was SO nice to me. Which I didn’t understand. Where was this when her brother and I were dating? Then my family and I went to lunch at one of my favorite restaurants in town and who do you think just happened to be there at the same time with his friends? He knew I was in town but I didn’t tell him where we were planning on eating!! What are the freaking odds? So, naturally I sat with him and he held my hand under the table. I just couldn’t resist so I didn’t pull away. I was weak. As we pulled out of Rexburg for the last time, I broke all over again.
I got back home and started the mission paper process and started my online classes for the fall as well. It came time to pay for school and I went to input my financial aid information. I had used my dad’s tax info previously because I had been living with him before my freshman year and he had claimed me as a dependent. Like I sort of mentioned earlier, as I was making the decision to go on a mission I got the feeling I needed to start fixing all of my relationships with people before I left - mainly my relationship with my dad. So we started talking more. Now that it was time to pay, I inputted the same info from the prior year because my mom told me he had claimed me on his taxes again. Just to be sure, though, I texted him and asked if he had claimed me as a dependent again while I was away at school. He said he had but then followed it with telling me he didn’t want me using his tax info to get any financial aid benefits. He said he didn’t want me using him. UMMMM huh? He said that he suspected I was conveniently trying to mend things with him so I could use him for financial aid. UHHHHH WHAT?? The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind! (Although that would’ve been very smart lol.) Why was this man always assuming the worst of me? Anyways, I told him that that wasn’t the reason I had started talking to him at all but that I had already entered his info. He lost his mind. He told me that what I had done was illegal and if I didn’t undo it that he would get his lawyer involved. EXCUSE ME? This is my dad, remember? The person who is supposed to love and want to help me no matter what? Well he succeeded in terrifying me to the point that I went back in and deleted everything despite my mom insisting that he was all empty threats. Awesome. So he didn’t have to pay a dime for my existence all year but got to reap the benefits of claiming me as a dependent on his taxes but then got to deny me the opportunity to get financial help from the government? NICE! I should’ve just listened to my mom but no, I was still a little brainwashed.
Back to prepping for the mission: For those of you who aren’t familiar with missions and the prep that goes into essentially applying for one, you have to get a physical and you have to be up to date on all medical procedures and shots. If you read my post about getting a boob job you will know that I am not good with needles. At all. Like I have a pretty severe phobia where I will almost pass out. (And at this point I was still planning on and telling people I was going to be a nurse. LOL.) I needed to get this medical exam to submit my papers so I decided I was a big girl and I could take myself to the doctor. Turns out I had to get a TB test. TB tests are where they insert a needle right beneath the surface of your skin, inject something, and a little bubble appears under the skin. Do you know how NASTY that is???? I was not prepared.
I went in there telling all of them that I was planning on being a nurse blah blah they were hyping me up and then I got the TB test and it took everything in me to keep it cool and walk out the door without falling over. I left the examination room while the PA was in the middle of talking to me. Something about me needing to go to the front desk to get my papers. I wasn’t listening. I barely heard her as I turned down the hall. Suddenly I couldn’t walk in a straight line. I started hearing what sounded like sprinklers in the distance and started having tunnel vision. I made it to the door to the lobby and wobbled over to the receptionist’s desk. I breathlessly waited for her to finish her conversation with a patient before I managed to mumble half of what the PA had said and then ended with “I don’t feel so good” and laid my head down on her desk. HAHAAHAHA. She was like “OH MY GOSH! Go sit down, I’ll get you some juice!”
Somehow I got to one of the seats as the nausea really started to hit me. I sat there trying desperately to remember how to treat myself for shock. All I could remember was to lay down and put your knees up. Completely forgot about the sitting down and putting your head between your knees treatment lol. I didn’t want to cause an even bigger scene in this lobby so I just did my best to “lie” down in the chair. Lol. I sat there slumped wondering how I was going to do this. How was I even doing this at all? How did I get here? Who was I kidding thinking I was a big girl? I just started praying in my head: God, please get me through this. I am only doing this for you. Only because you asked. Then I realized that having God’s blessing and approval on my side made me strong. No way would I have voluntarily gone and done any of that if it weren’t for my current circumstances. Still didn’t help the nausea but it sure kept me from running out the door before I even got there.
A nurse finally came out and brought me back in, laid me down and handed me a juice box. She was like, “You should’ve said something!” I couldn’t really reply. Hahaha.
That October I really wanted to go to General Conference. My ex and I were still talking and part of me felt like there’d be a chance I could see him if I went. There was this sort of gravitational pull between us and I was pretty confident if I was there, he would turn up too. For me, it was also a game of seeing how far he would go since he was always the one claiming it wasn’t the right thing. Also, I knew it would feel great to be away from home and to be with some friends in Utah.
I ended up telling my ex that I wanted to go bc I like playing with fire. He said he could get tickets and that we should go together. Sounded great to me.
I got into town and I stayed with a good friend the first night. It felt amazing to be there. The next day I met up with my ex, we somehow ended up hanging out at his significant sister’s who was out of town. I had missed him so much that being with him again felt painfully good. But it also felt super wrong too. We spent every waking moment of that trip together and told each other we still loved the other. Such a mistake but again, I just couldn’t resist. I was weak.
When it came time to say goodbye for the millionth time it obliterated me and knocked me to my knees because I knew this time it was definitely goodbye. I just knew he was going to get married while I was gone and that I was getting called to leave and physically removed from the situation so that he could. The reality of that hurt so bad.
I called the friend I was staying with during the panic/anxiety attack that ensued after saying goodbye to him. After I bawled my eyes out and told her all of my worst fears that would surely come true from this she said one of the most profound things that I have never forgotten. “Sam, God won’t let someone else marry your husband.” It was so simple but I knew that it was true. What was meant for me would never miss me. It made me happy but sad at the same time. Obviously the wishful part of me was still hopeful that I might still end up with him. The logical part of me knew God had a different plan for both of us.
After I got home from Utah I finally got everything taken care of and I was ready to submit my papers. All that I had left to do was to talk to my Stake President and he would send everything in so I went and met with him. He sat me down and asked me why I wanted to go on a mission. I don’t remember my exact words I said but I do know I took him through my whole story (the extended version) of how I got to where I was in front of him now. Feeling very accomplished and proud of my story, I finished and waited for his response. He paused and then told me to go home - that he wouldn’t be submitting my papers tonight. He told me this wasn’t to discourage me from going but that I needed to go home and get a real answer of whether or not I should go. He said I would need that solid answer to lean on when the going got tough out on the mission.
UMMMMMM WHAT?!?!?!??!! I was stunned. Speechless actually. And angry too. Not meant to discourage me?!!?! What did this mean?! It had taken everything in me to come to this decision and to get to this point! What did he mean, go home and get a real answer??? I thought I had! Second guessing and so much doubt started creeping back in. If not a mission, then WHAT?! I couldn’t go through all of that again.
I prayed and prayed and studied and studied. And guess what? I didn’t get an earth shattering answer. No angels appeared to me. I just knew it was a good thing and it felt right. I wouldn’t really count that as an answer but I just figured if it was the absolute wrong thing to do, then God would stop me.
16 For behold, the Spirit of Christ is given to every man, that he may know good from evil; wherefore, I show unto you the way to judge; for every thing which inviteth to do good, and to persuade to believe in Christ, is sent forth by the power and gift of Christ; wherefore ye may know with a perfect knowledge it is of God.
Moroni 7:16
Honestly, I just felt peace about going. So I called my stake pres a week later, told him I had gotten my “answer” and submitted my papers. And then I waited. And waited. And waited. In the meantime I worked and did school. It was definitely rough and I wasn’t entirely happy but I had the knowledge of my mission call potentially being on the way propelling me forward. Knowing I’d soon know where I was going was honestly the only thing keeping me going at this point.
4 weeks passed and still nothing which is very weird because normally calls in the states come within 2-3 weeks. Had they forgotten about me? Were they reconsidering? They probably got my application and decided this wasn’t it for me. Did it get lost? These were just some of the toxic thoughts I was having. As you might have guessed, I am not a patient person by nature so this much waiting was excruciating for me.
5 weeks later, it was a Friday night. A night someone my age should be out having fun but I was home alone sitting at my kitchen counter trying without much luck to teach myself chemistry after a long day at work. Work I was only doing to pay for this mission that I was supposedly going on. It sunk in how truly unhappy I was. All of my friends were away at college having the time of their lives and the love of my life was definitely dating other people and was probably going to marry one of them all while I was working three jobs, taking a semester of online classes, living at home with my impossible mother and being told to go on a mission. I was so exhausted, so sad, and so very alone. I couldn’t see the light anymore. God was asking too much. The pressure of it all was about to rupture inside my chest and I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t control anything. I just sat there slumped and sobbing, begging God for mercy and feeling so abandoned by Him. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like I was drowning. I had finally hit my breaking point and God knew it too because right when I didn’t think I could bear even one more minute of this life, my phone screen lit up with the notification that my papers had been submitted and my call was on its way.
I’m pretty sure I melted into the ground and started sobbing all over again.
That terrible experience had been a test - to see if I would turn to Him in my greatest hour of need instead of someone or something else. It was to see if I would rely only on Him. And I had. So I had passed and the relief was sent. He had answered. Trust was strengthened, our relationship was getting stronger, and I was learning that our relationship was really all I needed. Looking back, I believe these kinds of experiences were what prepared me most for my mission - not hours of scripture study or rote memorization, but real world application of faith and trust in God.
This whole time that God was leading me along it was SO HARD for me to trust Him. Mostly, because I thought what I had was great. Perfect even. It was the happiest I had ever been and the most whole I thought I would ever feel. How could it get any better? Asking me to leave that and leading me step by step in a seemingly opposite direction while at times only showing me the very next step instead of the full picture sometimes required more faith than I thought I had. But God knows us better than we know ourselves so we can trust that His plan is always the best one. That’s really hard for me to comprehend or believe sometimes. In hindsight, though, and in seeing where I am at now, listening to Him and giving my will to Him was the hardest but best thing I have ever done. So just remember that. He has a much bigger and better plan for you than the one you made or dreamt up for yourself. As hard as it can be, trust Him because God never screws His people.
I think this picture says it all.
I’ll get to what my bigger teddy bear was in my next post ;)
Love you so much,
Sam