I was lying on the floor in my bedroom experiencing a crippling panic attack, one of many that day. I had just returned home early from serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I felt like a failure.
The ensuing months involved bouts of debilitating depression, numerous medication prescriptions, countless therapy visits, and feelings of wanting to end it all, at times. It was in these moments that I learned a valuable lesson: We all have a mission, both in and out of the church, and there is meaning in our missions.
Regardless of what we may be going through - struggling with addiction, lack of testimony, same-sex attraction, feeling lonely, forgotten, or not good enough, experiencing mental illness and discouragement, etc. - there is purpose behind our pain, and there is hope in our struggle. It's up to us - are we going to go through life, or grow through life?
