Awakening: Open Mind, Open Heart

I'll never go back. I can't go back.

I stopped going to church regularly over 3 years ago. Besides the few times I would go when visiting family, I did not attend. My thought process was that I had a lot of unanswered questions that I felt were never going to be answered. I felt that the church didn't have answers and that I had to accept that. I couldn't accept that. It's hard to explain, my needing to have my questions answered. Put simply, I could not rely on faith, because I did not have it. So, I left thinking, "I'll never go back. I can't go back."

In high school, I started to lead a double life. I think I had always led part of a double life while growing up. My parents separated when I was 8. I was shocked. My mom had taken us out for a treat and when we came home, he was gone. My dad had packed some of his belongings and moved out. After that day, my life crashed; I felt myself crashing down into a 10 year spiral of depression, anger, stress, and lies. I will not go into detail about my childhood post-separation, because I spent a lot of it as a confused and sad little girl. I don't like to revisit it. But, high school. High school was where I wanted to be free. I wanted the freedom that my friends had, but I had a strict home. So, I lied. And surprisingly, it came easily to me. I really think it's because I used to tell my dad what he wanted to hear when he asked about my mom. I wanted him to be proud of me; so, among other things, I would lie and tell him that I was on his side when in reality, I didn't want to be on a side.

In high school, I was a leader in the church and I loved it. But, I didn't have a firm testimony. I wanted to party with my friends, and I didn't understand why I couldn't do both. So, I secretly did both and I felt liberated. I grasped that freedom hard, so hard that I didn't care about or even realize the consequences of what I was doing. I didn't realize how unhappy it would make me feel, opening up this double-life jar of lying to everyone closest to me just to get these quick, short moments of 'happiness'. I became someone, something that I never want to be again. I lost relationships and friendships, because I was out of control. And after it all, after looking at all of the broken, scattered pieces of myself, I was left with nothing but the want of a new beginning.

College. BYU-I was fun! I got to make my own decisions and I answered to ME. I got to spend time with LDS members who are my age, a vast improvement to the one LDS girl back home in my grade. But, I still felt different. I still had questions that I was scared of asking. I still had issues that I thought I already knew the answers to, answers that didn't sit well with me. And, besides that, I felt myself turning back into the person I was in high school. I didn't want to be that person anymore, the person who didn't follow the teachings but pretended to. I didn't want to pretend anymore. I didn't know if I would ever recover from it, especially because I still struggle with being truthful about how I feel. At that point in my life, I felt that having all of these rules I had to follow as a member of the church made me judgmental of other people. And I hated that, mostly because I constantly felt judged. While I hated dealing with people like that, I had to hold myself accountable for doing the same thing. So, not only was my testimony weak, but I was weak. I stopped going to church 3 years ago. I turned my back on it and didn't think I would return.

Then, something changed in me. I'm not sure what it is. I think it might be that I want a family in my near future, and I constantly worry about what I'm going to teach my children. Leaving the church didn't make me an Atheist or anti-Mormon. I still believe much of what I was taught in the church. I think it started when my sister, Sarah, told me that she's going on a mission. I was stunned when she told me she wanted to go. It was hard for me, because we have always been so close. We're the closest out of all of my siblings; we're best friends. And, after I shared my struggles with the church to my family, she had revealed to me that she was struggling too. I knew that when I left, I would feel alone, because all of my family members are still active in the LDS church. I prepared myself for it. I even went a little overboard with my preparations. But, I did not prepare for someone to not only understand my side of things, but agree with them. I was elated to find out that I was not alone. But then, just as quickly, I was alone again. Though she had struggled, she persevered, worked on herself and found her testimony. I am so happy for her. She's a different person now, more content with who she was, more real. Despite my fear of loneliness, I love who she is and how happy she is. And, her new found happiness made me wonder what had changed. So, we talked; we talked a lot. We discussed all of my issues and questions. We talked about how angry I was, angry because I felt like people blindly followed/accepted teachings that didn't have answers, that didn't make any sense. We talked for a long time and Sarah didn't have all of the answers. She still understood and agreed with a lot of the problems I had. But, the difference now:

"Lei, I don't understand why we can't do certain things. I don't understand or have an answer to it, but I want to go to the temple. I want to be married in the temple, and in order to do that, I have to let those things go and accept it. If God doesn't want me to drink coffee, then I won't. If He doesn't want me to go to an R rated movie, I won't. If He doesn't want me to get a tattoo, I won't. I also have to accept that people are human beings. The church is always true. The doctrine is true. You have to let go of how some of the people are..." 

The difference is that she accepted it. She accepted that there are a lot of little things she doesn't understand and probably won't ever understand. She accepted that people make mistakes, but that's their decision.

During one of my family visits, Esther had the sister missionaries over for dinner. They shared a message that struck me. I had started to open my heart to the church again. And, this message brought everything into perspective.

Doctrine and Covenants 64:9-11:
9. Wherefore, I say unto you, that ye ought to forgive one another; for he that forgiveth not his brother his trespasses standeth condemned before the Lord; for there remaineth in him the greater sin.
10. I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men.
11. And ye ought to say in your hearts - let God judge between me and thee, and reward thee according to thy deeds.

I was blown away, stunned that this, out of everything they could have shared, they shared this. I felt my anger start to melt away as I knew that this message was for me, that God sent this message to me. Peace replaced the anger and resentment that I had felt for the last 3 years. And, I didn't realize how tiring it was to be so angry. I need to forgive.

A few months later:

I still have problems and issues, but I want to resolve them. I think that's the difference from what I did before. This time, I WANT TO RESOLVE them and I am motivated. I am keeping on open mind and an open heart. I have always said that I do not want to go back to church until I am in a good place. As I said before, I want to be firm; I want to be strong. I want to hammer out these issues so that I don't keep them inside, because I've already done that, and I don't want to go back there. I talk to Sarah every week. Each week, we have a new prompt - usually it's a question that I have - and we discuss it after we both do research. It's been going well.
I talked to TJ about going back. His response was that he's been wanting to go back to church for a long time.

I have started to have a testimony again. It is small, but it is mine and it is real.

I know that God is real. I know that He hears me and answers me. I know that He loves me.

TMI

You would think that reading minds would be the ultimate super power. You're wrong; it isn't. Reading minds is incredibly tiring. In fact, I spend most of my time trying to not read minds. By having the 'power' to read minds, I am actually powerless. I have undying headaches that I can rarely control. I feel heartache, death, and fear that is not mine. I have nightmares that are not mine. I know what people think about when most of the time, I could care less. I throw all of my consciousness into building this wall to keep your thoughts out so that I can have my own for a second, a minute, an hour at best. If I focus hard enough, my wall won't crumble for a few hours. I am always exhausted, sometimes cranky if I have enough energy to be. No, reading minds is not a super power. Knowledge is not power.

Opening my locker, I take off my sunglasses and stare into the mirror I have propped up. I look less than average today. I have dark bags under my puffy eyes. I almost always have sunglasses on to hide them; I get tired of Mom telling me that I need to get more sleep. I lightly apply more cream to the dark circles in an attempt to look more healthy. It fails and I give up. I wish my eyes were a vibrant blue or a piercing green, but they are dark brown to match my hair. My curls are pulled loosely into a bun at the top of my head. I can see small ringlets escaping my bun despite my best efforts. My skin is pale and I wish I have the summer tan my peers do. Sighing, I close the locker and head to Pre-Calc.

Reading minds can be handy from time to time. I always know the answer to the questions Ms. Jensen asks me. I also know that she has it out for me, because she thinks I'm an over privileged and unappreciative brat. I know what my mom hopes to hear when she asks how I am doing at school. She also feels helpless when she is around me, because unlike me, she does not know what to say. I can sometimes avoid certain bullies (Peyton 'Evil Witch' Gene, Britney 'Obnoxious Wench' Clinton, Jeff 'Bad-Breathed Punk' Johnson) by hearing their thoughts before I see them. I know when someone is telling me the truth. I know what not to say. 

The school hallways are a dark gray and the lockers are mustard yellow. Yes, mustard yellow! Nobody knows why they would choose the nastiest colors as our school colors. I wind in and out of the crowds of people in the hallway. Three things to always remember while walking through the halls:

1. Don't run. Weave. Weave in and out.
2. Put both backpack straps on your shoulders. Yes, wear a backpack the way it was designed to be worn. Don't worry about trying to look cool, because you look ridiculous when your backpack, and all of its contents, scatter all over the floor after bumping into someone. It also helps you get out of the crowd faster if you have two hands free.
3. Keep your head halfway between looking forward and looking down. This way, you don't have to look anyone in the eye and you won't be crashing into people by just staring at your feet.

Hearing the thoughts of the people I pass is just another reminder of how badly I want to get out of here.

"I am not going to make it to class in time to copy her homework."

"I have such a bad headache from that party last night." Oh yeah, I feel so sorry for you. NOT!

"Ugh. He still hasn't texted me and he's over there talking to her! I shouldn't have had sex with him last night!" Nothing says 'high school' better than a good love triangle!

"Practice today is going to be horrible."

"I've lost 3 lbs. already! This diet is going to work!"

"Is she actually looking at me?"

"Maybe I'll get laid today..." Gross!

I push away all of the thoughts and concentrate on my own. I hate it. I hate reading minds, because I want to live a life that is not overwhelmed by the thoughts of everyone else. And, looking at it logically, the cons definitely outweigh the pros. I don't want to hear what people are really thinking. I don't want to hear the perverted or depressing thoughts of the immature teenagers in my high school. I don't want to hear nasty insults before they come out of Britney's mouth, because hearing it once is already too much. I'm tired of being exhausted all the time, tired of never being able to think my own thoughts when someone else is close by. I want to lead a normal, boring life. 

I walk down the aisle farthest away from the door, next to the wall of windows and sit down at my desk in the back corner. I drop my backpack onto the floor next to me and pull out my notebook and pen. I haven't used a pencil since the 8th grade. There's something about the smudging that really annoys me. So, I use pens and have for the last two years. I've learned to not write something down until I'm pretty sure I want it to be permanent. I flip through my notebook and see all of the scribbled out words and sigh. Okay, so maybe I haven't learned how to have an organized, clean notebook while using a pen. Looking up, I see that class isn't going to start for a few minutes, because I'm early. Only one hour, one hour before I'm free. I start to doodle drawings on a new page and I slip into my world of thoughts. I close my eyes as thoughts pass through me, envelope me.

"Jess, how about you answer this one?...Jess?"

Ms. Jensen's talking to me and I slowly come out of my world. I can hear that everyone is staring at me, hear what they're thinking about me.

"Caught again..."

"She's clearly messed up."

"She's probably on drugs..."

My eyes flick over the board at the front of the class. Ah, so we're learning about logarithms today. Glancing past the written examples on the board, I peer into Ms. Jensen's head and,

"3 is the exponent to which 2 must be raised to produce 8."

Ms. Jensen looks like she wants to wallop me, but she is intrigued as her eyes widen in surprise. I continue to listen to her thoughts.

"I swear she reads my mind." 

I suppress a giggle and bow my head again as I go back to drawing in my notebook. I start to draw my favorite flower, hellebore. My grandmother called them Winter Roses, because despite the cold of winter, they still bloomed in her garden. She had dark blue ones that were so dark, they looked black until you were close. I remember drinking her homemade hot chocolate while staring at them from inside the warmth of Grandma's cottage. Most people walked by them, looking at the other plants she had in her garden. It was their loss. There was something special about these flowers that would bloom in the cold of winter and early spring. They are delicate, light to the touch, and yet so strong to bloom in such cold weather. My grandmother had told me one of the legends of the hellebore. Apparently they were born from the tears of a sad Jewish girl. She was crying, because she did not have a gift to give the baby Jesus, sprouting the Winter/Christmas Rose. I always wondered if the newborn flowers were her gift to Him, or if they were His gift to her.

I can finally breathe once the bell rings; it means that I can escape all of the noise. I pack my notebook and pen while everyone else rushes out the door. I open the side door at the back of the classroom and step out. It's starting to drizzle, which happens all the time in New Hampshire, especially in April. The air smells fresh and sweet. I look at the thick forest of trees at the edge of the grass and start heading that way. Time to clear my head and hopefully get rid of this headache!