missionaries just came to my door (storytime) (literally happened 20 minutes ago)

picture this. you’re wearing a sports bra, sweatpants, a faint hickey on the side of your neck. a tattoo on your shoulder & arm. you just finished making pour over decaf (lol) coffee because the regular coffee gives you anxiety.

there’s a knock at the door. you run to hide your cat so he doesn’t escape.

you turn the lock & open the door. it’s the sister missionaries. you stare at them in stunned silence, mostly because why in the world would they walk up the dingy stairs to your apartment when there’s the main house attached to your place.

they’re asking if someone lives there but it’s not you (thankfully). you know the name & it’s someone who has moved from the main house & is long gone. you tell them that.

but they keep talking. they ask you if you know about the church, oh i know about the church. but you don’t say that, you say you’ve already been baptized but you work. (this is where i went wrong). they jarringly ask you how Jesus helps you in your daily life. you mutter off something about anxiety & school & they seem to grab at the thin string you’ve thrown their way. one of them scrambles for a scripture about how Jesus helps those afflicted & asks you to read it.

they’re standing in your stairwell. it’s freezing cold. there’s a trash bag to your left & it smells, mixing with the smell of coffee wafting from the pot. you feel yourself slowly slipping into a anxious dissociative state as you grab the BOM she hands you & you’re shaking so much you drop her LDS pamphlets that were shoved in her book. you read through the verse, wondering why you’re even reading it when you were the one who said the stuff about Jesus helping with anxiety. Asking you to the scripture as if you need convincing.. Jeez.

you’re trying to be as kind as possible because you have pity for missionaries but you feel yourself getting more & more anxious, & more & more sweaty. they ask you about your records & you stammer about “yes please move them” (😭😭😭). they ask about any other roommates they should come. back. for. but God knows you live with you’re boyfriend they will never ever know that. you take their little paper & close the door.

god that was terrible.

i still feel anxious 😭