I’ve been writing for so long that my tea has grown cold… Not just warm. Cold.
Outside the air is filled with fog, matching the atmosphere in my mind.
I want to have hope, but I’m having trouble accessing myself. I guess this is really where I need to reach for God.
A cold is coming on, and I just want to sleep. Maybe I should let myself. Everything else I had going on today has been cancelled.
Is it bad that I was actually relieved when the plans fell through?
Feeling a bit scattered and fuzzy today, but maybe I need to just allow myself the room to take a breath and take a break.
What are you up to today?
I seem to make the same mistakes over and over again. Say the same things over and over again. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me, or if this is just normal and to be expected.
I take on too much, then I feel overwhelmed and upset with all the expectations I’ve created in those around me. I agree to do more than I have the energy to do, then beat myself up for not being stronger.
It isn’t about strength, it’s about energy, and right now, I have very little. Especially when I’m stressed and overwhelmed, it just makes the problems worse.
Wanting to just step away and escape for a bit.
I haven’t known how to write lately. The fire that consumes me overwhelms me, and there are times God strengthens me to fight back.
I trust that He is able, even when I’m not.
He helps my heart to trust. I’m not alone in this, not this time. I was in the past, and that’s the difference. Although the wars may rage around me, I’m not in this alone. And that’s what’s changed.
Today, all I can say is that God is still faithful, and I will put my trust in Him.
Two steps forward, one step back. And that step back feels like falling down the stairs.
I roll and I tumble, sometimes catching my breath, sometimes wondering if the pounding will ever stop. I find myself wondering if I will ever truly breathe again, while simultaneously feeling guilty for every moment I find I’m able to.
I don’t understand why bad things happen. I don’t understand why safety can’t be kept. But I find myself in a different place now than I used to be, and yet, there’s still so much that’s similar to places I never thought I’d fall again.
Spiral up. Spiral down.
It’s all a part of the process.
Healing takes time, and it isn’t always one straightforward motion. There are things that knock us down again, but we’re still in between. This is not how the story ends. This is not forever. And the darkness could never truly win.
I find a hope inside me for a day when darkness will be defeated, when it can no longer hold me in its grasp. Today may be that day, or it may not. But this is not how my story ends. I will not stay stuck here forever.
Someday, there will be a day, where I will finally be free.
I don’t know where to begin. The past couple weeks have been one chaotic crisis after another. I feel myself being sucked back into the chaos, and it takes everything in me to resist it, but I’ve still imploded and I’m broken inside.
There are places, states of mind, I thought I had healed from, reactions I thought I was past. But here they are again. Lesser, but still there.
I’m not sure what it will take to climb from this pit. And right now I’m feeling pretty defeated. I’m standing here praying for a miracle, because a miracle is the only path forward.
And still, I know that God is faithful. And even in my brokenness, He can use it to heal.
New things are coming tomorrow, and I’m not ready. I want freedom from this. I’m so tired of struggling. I can’t tell whether I’m withering away or drowning.
Fires blaze around me and I’m stranded in the dark. I find myself alone again in ways I never thought I’d have to face. I thought I’d moved past this. I thought this was over.
But anxiety dies hard. And PTSD manages to gain its grip, even after I thought I was safe and free.
Safety. Freedom. That’s all I really wanted.
I don’t know why situations in life don’t work out the way we want or expect. I’m terrified, yet feel God calling me to peace.
Stability. Predictability. But abusers never change.
I fight back the anger after being drawn in again. And I don’t see a way out as I’m splashing in these waters. I know that God is faithful, and I know that He can save. But sometimes I wonder if there’s even enough left in me.
How many deaths will I have to die before I can finally live? How long will it take to recover, to find healing, to break free for good?
I don’t know what story my life will tell, but I want it to point to the One who can reach down into even the darkest pit, and pull from the wreckage something He deems beautiful. I want to know that my heart has chosen to trust the One who isn’t limited by human emotion, who isn’t defined by what we do, but who, instead, loves us in our messes, and leads us through a path, even one of fire, to shine a greater light pointing to His glory.
I was up at 5 this morning, after going to bed a bit after 2.
Anxiety keeps me up. And I’m sick of the striving. I’m sick of trying to be perfect, I’m sick of putting on a brave face. I’m worn out and weary, that’s just where I am right now. And I don’t want to pick up a mask and put it back on.
I’m done pretending. I’m done acting like everything’s okay.
I say this, but I also know that I struggle with boundaries and too easily fuse with others’ emotions… And I have no idea how to stop that cycle.
I need freedom. I need space. I want a place where I can just be me. No fear. No threats. I’m sick of the threats. I’m sick of the anger.
Fear has stolen so many years from my life, and I don’t want it to take any more. I’m not strong enough to fight this on my own, but I know the One who is. And it is in Him that I will place my trust and my hope for the future.