Mind you, I’ve left out a myriad of possibilities that can also be maddening:

• Your companion believes he is destined for apostleship.
• Your companion is convinced some universe ending paradox will occur if he allows you to be any further than 10 feet away from him. 
• You are a 19 year old young man. Your hormones are raging. Internal guilt is your only outlet. 
• A million more I could list. 

Knowing how frustrated I was with my companion on this particular day, a friend captured this picture of me considering what consequences I might incur should I end up maiming the missionary. 

If you remember, the difficulty in my mission hit its peak between months 4-6.  It was also during the winter. The cold weather and the consistent cloud cover was not helpful. It was in this timeframe that I called my parents and told them I might need to come home. 

My parents were sympathetic to my strife. But they also understood that this was a defining period of my life. If I didn’t have this type of breakdown on my mission I would have it somewhere else (college, professional school, work, marriage, fatherhood, whatever.) This was an emotional breakdown I would have to face at some point in my life and if I couldn’t find a way to endure it as a missionary, I wouldn’t be able to handle bigger issues that were guaranteed to come later.  

My parents encouraged me to take whatever reasonable steps necessary to keep myself in the mission field. The biggest step (one I was resistant to) was to work with my doctor to adjust my medication. This would be the first time that I would require an increase in med dosage in the three years I’d been on antidepressants. The idea of increasing my medication that first time was even harder than conceding the need to take medication in the first place. 

But only a week after starting an increased dose I was overwhelmingly aware that I had made the right choice. 

No longer was I uber-irritable towards my companion. No longer did I obsess over arbitrary mission rules. It was much more the spirit of the mission than the law of the mission. In stating this, don’t think I became some excessively apostate missionary. But instead, I was more communicative with my companion about a desire to, for example, take a nature bike ride for an hour, or stop at the convenience store for a break to get a drink and a Hostess product. Best of all, those down moments where I would fixate on missing home or focus on my dislike for some aspect of the mission – those moments became much easier. Focusing on what I was studying became far more consistent and accidentally falling asleep during periods of study didn’t incur such guilt. 

Of course, with each new companion came their unique attitude on mission life, but my ability to adjust to what was needed improved significantly. I was also far more willing to speak up for myself or others when I was seeing some need that my companion was not picking up on for his obsession with the letter of the law. More importantly, I had an unmatched empathy for missionaries who were emotionally struggling. It’s possible that a few young men completed their missions only because I understood their pain at a critical time.  

In all transparency, it took 7 months to dial in a dosage that finally held me stable. From there on though, I actually stayed on that same dose for 3 years until, once home and married, my doctor and I found a better medication for my symptoms.

That is my story, in part. I have felt the meaninglessness of going through the motions and sitting in my own mental filth day after day in the mission field. I’ve faced what feels like an insurmountable amount of time between me and my release date. It is HELL INDEED. 

However the hardest thing to appreciate when you hurt is that in that state of pain you are acquiring knowledge – knowledge which increases proportionately in importance with its intensity of undesirability. Watching those other missionaries out there who seem to be enjoying themselves SO MUCH, as if they were created with a natural love of beating down doors, you might wonder why God did not create you in such a way to become an effortlessly great missionary tool in his hands. However, eventually you discover that hardest-to-grasp concept that God is making far more of a man in you with your knowledge of internal struggle than any missionary out there who is instinctively happy. 

And doesn’t that principle make sense when considering that “the natural man is an enemy to God.” If a person instinctively enjoys everything that God commands of him then WHERE IS THE NECESSARY STRUGGLE by which this “gifted” disciple proves his willingness to endure for Him. 

Todd, you are enduring an extremely undesirable situation because you love God. Other missionaries are enjoying a two year joyride mistakenly thinking they are God’s chosen ones for the ease of their obedience. Such a concept is nearly unlearnable to the incurable optimist – THE MOST VALUABLE KNOWLEDGE IS ONLY GAINED BY ENGAGING INTERNAL INSTINCTUAL CONFLICT. 

In closing, I would recommend that you sincerely consider increasing the dosage of your medication. I KNOW it feels like you’re placing a band-aid on something that will just get worse. But remember, as I’ve told you previously, without medication, even with the consistent adjustments that it has required, I would never have finished my mission, I would not have been able to remain married, I would not have been able to finish schooling or start a business, AND I would likely not be alive today. 

Additionally, I would have you remember that God has purpose in your pain. Significant depression is not anything that anyone would wish upon themselves. However, this moment of darkness allows Him to build within you a product that could never be achieved through desirable, yet  ignorant, happiness. 

You have been called and elected to become as He is. Use every opportunity to become So. 

Love ya man,

𝚫-Todd (Delta-Todd meaning Changed-Todd)