What is in my heart.

Something has been weighing on my heart and on my mind lately. I have decided to share it here today. It's a little more revealing than what I normally would feel comfortable with sharing, but as I have come to the blogging world, I have been inspired by fellow bloggers who share revealing and uncomfortable truths about their lives with me.  So I guess I’d like to share this story as well… as vulnerable as I may feel…

I have this problem see… I block traumatic experiences from my memory.

It's not a good thing, because instead of dealing with past problems, I just block them. Also, when something that I have enjoyed is forced to change, [ie: graduation from high school, finishing my work at Oakcrest, finishing college and moving home, leaving friends behind that I care about because it’s time to close that chapter in my life] I tend to block the good memories from my brain because remembering them reminds me that the people, places and experiences are gone from my life and rather than deal with that pain I just block that it ever happened.

I don't like that I do this.

What has inspired this posting is that I guess for the first time in 3 years I am in the process of unblocking what I once blocked about My Mission. It's been the subject of many sleepless nights the past month.

I guess I will start with the necessary background information. From 2006-2008 I served a mission for my Church. I packed up everything I might need for 18 months into 2 suitcases, left my friends and family behind, and moved to Ukraine, and entire world away.

My Faith has always been important to me and sharing it with others seemed to be what I desired most. My mission to Ukraine was what came of that desire.

For those of you who do not know anything about missions for the LDS Church (which is hard to believe considering how many missionaries there are world wide) a mission location destination is not something you get to decide on for yourself, it is somewhere you get assigned. Also, missions are also completely voluntary. None the less, I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

What started out as a good thing, quickly turned traumatic.

Quite traumatic. Traumatic experiences on so many levels and in so many ways.

Unfortunately I blocked most of it from my memories and I have not allowed myself to spend much time reflecting on it since I came back just over 3 years ago.

However on the flip side, that same mission also provided wonderful experiences for me, mostly in the people and the culture and the language. Unfortunately again, along with the bad memories that I blocked I also blocked the good ones.
 

So about a month ago I started to unblock some of those memories. I am not sure why now… maybe it’s because I am in such a better place in my life and I know I can now handle the traumatic experiences that I have honestly never really dealt with. Whatever the reason for my desire to unblock and remember; I now have a desire to unblock and remember. I have a desire to finally for the first time look at my mission pictures. I am also almost ready to get out my mission journals and read them, for the first time since I wrote them.  

I’ve now been laying in bed for 2 hours and I can't sleep. I just keep thinking about Ukraine and the people I knew. I want to cry because half of my heart is not with me and I just feel so incomplete. I left half of my heart in Ukraine and I have never allowed myself to be aware of and notice that before… notice that half of it is missing. That is until now.  

I finally want to remember. 

I have a heart full of gratitude right now for those good experiences and I really am at a loss for whom to share that gratitude with. Maybe that is where my blog comes in. It is the place where I can share the feelings in my heart without really knowing who is reading.

 Me at Slavonogorsk. The MOST beautiful place in Ukraine, and one of my all time favorite places on earth.

 I want the country to know that I fell madly in love with her. Her history is mesmerizing.
Her art and architecture is breathtaking.

Her language is captivating.

едим, пьем, и играем на гитаре!! 

Her people are fascinating.

This dude was the most brilliant man I've ever personally known. By age 32 he was already a Lawyer, a Pediatrician and a Pilot. He spoke Russian, Ukrainian, Spanish and amazing English. LOVED him!  

Her poverty is heartbreaking.

(All the old war widows have no money, no pensions, and no retirement and must resort to physical labor to make ends meet.)

(This is a typical kitchen. Sometimes there isn't even running water.)

 Her food is delicious. Clearly...

We ran out of silverware many times when we had the elders over. Desperate times ladies and gents.

Her culture is charming.

Lots of Communistic history, of course.

Her ghetto-ness is hysterical.

(All too often we would see things like this. Who would make a playground like this? Only in Ukraine)

I miss the drunks passed out in the stairwells, on the buses, on the sidewalks, and pretty much anywhere else you could imagine.

I miss ghetto elevators that sometimes people peed in: 

I miss public restrooms:

When you got to go you got to go... right? Thankfully I didn't have to go bad enough.

I miss the weather:

I miss cool experiences with cool stories. Like this one:

For the story to this face click here.

She was the easiest place to love that I have ever been. I never felt an ounce of culture shock. What I felt was a place of belonging. I keep seeking those feelings again but every avenue that I have ever or will ever encounter has and will disappoint in comparison to the home I had in Ukraine.

I want the people to know that they are the best people in the world. I want them to know that I was touched in every humanly way possible by their kindness, their hospitality, their hope, their humor, their faith, their ability to love, their capacity to live, their ability to look to the future.

 One of the greatest groups of people in the world.

 I'm speechless about this couple.

I was befriended, I was loved, I was taught, I was accepted, I was admired, and I was mentored by some of the finest people in the world. Some of the greatest friendships that I have ever had in my life were with the Ukrainians I met in my short time there.

My Favorite English students.

I want my Father in Heaven to know that I loved His country and His people and I am grateful for the opportunity for such a small moment in my eternity to have spent some of it among His finest. 

I want Russian to know that I think it is beautiful. It is straight forward yet complicated. It is a language that I now long to hear. I long to look up while walking and see the signs in Russian.

I long to get lost and have to ask a native for directions. I long to learn words like ‘snowman’ from strangers on the marshrootka. I long to smile and nod when I have no idea what I am being told. I long to use my English/Russian dictionary daily. I long to butcher the pronunciation and grammar and be politely corrected by some of the smartest and most patient and helpful people in the world. I long to carry on conversations in Russian. I long to hear people on the street call out to me and ask me if I am an American. I long to hear their beautiful Russian accents as they try to practice their classroom English on me.

I long to spend time with my fellow missionary friends. I long to see Megonov and Missuranko, Belekova and Bigun.

I long to see Doxey and Crawford. I long to talk with Withers and find solace in his friendship. I long to learn from Sem’s positive attitude and just be in her presence.I want to hear another one of Taylor's ridiculous dreams.

(Love these people)

I long to have district meetings again with Gray and Dobrusky and Wacky Cake.

I miss Denis and Crossley.

 
I miss Megoniv  so much. No one, before or since has been able to make me laugh like him.

"NO JEANS!" -Zmoleck

I miss Layne:

Oh the memories. 

I miss Chiddy and Chamberlain.

I don't miss Keriak. {She was the devil}

I miss Permenter's Tennessee Twist. And I miss this:

I miss Denis. I miss him so much.

I miss Medina.

I miss Okcana so much that I can't bear to keep in contact with her because it breaks my heart that I am not with her.

Isn’t that so backwards?

I miss Oleg. I wish I could just open my heart and give it to him. I wish he would be open enough to accept the life changing gift that I offered him.

 "Whatever you wish Oleg. Whatever you wish."

I miss hundreds more.

I wonder about this blocking of traumatic experiences thing that I do. Sometimes I think it has served me, other times it is no bueno… clearly. Because look at all the beautiful experiences I had that I refuse to let myself remember. Look at all the remarkable people that I knew that I don't allow myself to keep in contact with. Look at all the good memories that I don't allow myself to have. I don't want to miss out anymore, but that sort of leaves me lost.

How do you reboot your brain to remember these memories? How do you allow yourself to reflect what has been forbidden to reflect on? How do you reopen your closed heart to soak it all in? How can you enjoy what you have told yourself was not enjoyable for so long? I want to go back and relive so many moments in Ukraine. The bad parts have scarred me so much. They have caused me so much pain. They have caused me so much confusion. They have caused me so much anxiety. Unfortunately I missed out on a lot of positive memories as a result. Bummer.

I think it is time to take my brain, my heart and my awareness back there. I have missed it so desperately.

I am ready to remember.
Ukraine, you are forever my home.