I’ll be honest. I feel sick to my stomach right now. I am purging deep-rooted feelings from the deepest parts of my soul, and while they may seem like small things, they are triggering feelings that make my heart pulse wildly from my chest.
This is truly one of the hardest things I have done in a while. I want to stop. I want to delete them and pretend they’ve never happened, but the void is already there. They have been spoken.
I’m trying my hardest to have this post be the last for today. It may be more disjointed and fragmented than the previous ones, but it’s a synopsis of my feelings and feelings are the most fragmented parts of us.
After that time, I shared a little bit on one of my million old blogs about my mixed emotions and shared my uncertain future and our family timeline a bit. I apologize for all the links, but it will help if you need to be filled in and I won’t have to give you another bazillion-word post. 🙂 That time back in Oklahoma was humbling. I felt rejected and useless, but I had just finished my last bought of depression and I refused to go back there. I was terrified of postpartum depression. I knew I was a likely candidate.
I feel blessed that I didn’t go directly there after Belle was born. In fact, she was the reason I felt the spirit again. For the first time in my life, I felt like God had left me. Not during my childhood before I was “saved”, not during my depressions, not during my marital struggles — but when the people of God cut me into fragments. Did He not love me? What did I do that was so wrong? When Belle was born I cried, because I looked at her little face and I whispered, “You didn’t forget me.”
Now, let me share with you about me. Today.
Lately, I feel like I’m trying to slip again. Due to my previous experience (hello, weight/numb brain) with medicine and my mother’s history with anti-depressants, therapies, anti-anxiety meds, pain killers, narcotics, etc — I don’t like to medicate myself. I try to exercise, eat right, get sunshine, study, meditate, and give to others. Most days I win. Some days I don’t. I am frightened of the church, and it makes me cry every Sunday. I think sometimes the pastor can see me from the stage. Yes, I’m the crazy lady in church that cries the whole dang sermon. One day I will remember to bring Kleenex. Ha.
I don’t really like going out in public a lot, especially really crowded places. Life is more easily managed in small doses. Most people consider me to be a really outgoing person, but in truth, I’m more introverted than you realize. I’m highly self-aware and I lack the blatant confidence to do whatever I want whenever I want to do it. I am highly talkative and social, but it is only when I am in a place where I feel comfortable.
Back in September I wrote this note:
Every day I fight the lie that I will never be enough. It is my own personal battle. The words are powerful. They tear through every positive thought and good intention with effortless ease and embed their sharp barbs deep within my soul. Some days I am not strong enough and they defeat me.
I must win.
Just this past week, I sent this email to my friend Kristen, who I have designated as a “sponsor” of a kind:
I just have to write this to someone who might understand. Why are there some days that you feel like you will never be enough? I don’t want my daughter to see me cry. I don’t want to lose my temper and toss the baby gate across the room simply because I’m just fed up with her carrying it all over the house. I don’t want to feel like I am nothing. It’s not every day. It’s not even every week. Just – sometimes – the feeling just hits you. I want to be my best, but I feel like I’m a failure. I start to cry, and my sweet little 21 month old wipes my tears and gives me a hug. She knows my needs.I don’t want to burden you, and perhaps I should even send this — but I feel a little better throwing this out there — even if no one else knows or understands.
I am embarrassed to share that with you. I want to be a good mother. I don’t want her struggle with this, but I also see signs of deep empathy in her. I’m afraid she has inherited my personality. Is that a good thing? I know that she is going to spend a lot of time in deep sorrow, for things far beyond her control. She is going to hurt for the wounded and broken. She is going to get her feelings hurt. She is going to spend a lot of time on her pillow.
I think that this is all I’m going to share for today.
Through all the pictures, crafts, recipes, and petty little notes lies a heart that is open and raw. You don’t need to feel like you are alone. My heart bleeds through the lines. I pray you know that you are loved, even in the midst of the panic and dark.
Thank you for listening. It means more to me than anything. Also, if you ever text me, write me, or call me and I don’t immediately respond, it is one of those days. Bear with me. Some days are better than others.
I love each and every one of you.