Synopsis

This is a letter i sent to my old roomate, kenny.

Its the brief version of why i'm home.

yeah, the brief version.... complex indeed.

Well, i have depression, and i've had it forever. Around March i/doctors decided it would be a good idea if i started taking medication again, since it looked like the depression was on an up swing. I started taking it and things were fine for a few weeks. The best weeks of my mission. I started to get more and more tired, like i would go to bed as soon as we got in at 9:30 and attempt to get up at 6:30, and then sleep till 9:30, or even later. Eventually when it got worse and worse, i was sleeping for about 18 hours a day, and being friggin tired for 6 hours.

They started to switch my medicines, but they gave me different/worse side effects. Eventually, i started having some really spiritual experiences which led back to utah. I got home about 6 weeks ago, and now i'm completley off meds, but they don't know when/if i can go back. I'm probably going to finish my degree this year, and then if i can go back, i might.

Its pretty nuts, to say the least, but i got a new scholarship, a bam house, and a lot of blessings. I know i'm in the right place, BUT IT SUCKS SOOOOO MUCH. I freaking hate talking about my mission to people because i get mission sick, like home sick but for my mission. Its not so bad, but sometimes i feel like a total loser. One of my friends really put it in perspective for me though, she said, "you're not going home for any unrightious reasons, right?" I agreed, she said " don't worry, we don't all understand the lords timetable."

One more funny story, i came back on friday, and then on a tuesday, i went to my old work at KCSG TV in st. george. They thought they saw a ghost, and aparently, my old boss had a dream 2 weeks before that i was working for them instead of being out on my mission. He was like "GO ON YOUR MISSION, you can be here now!" Then i came back, and he hired me, and paid me even better than before. It was pretty cool.

Well, this is long, and you're in medical school, so go cut open some cadaveres or something.

Peace,

Randall