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.
Pain. We chase it hoping to feel. But what’s the point of feeling if all we do is wallow?
The past few days have been incredibly difficult. I’m drained and exhausted, ready for a break. Ready for the storm to let up. It’s amazing how quickly we can be flooded by past emotions we thought were behind us.
I knew the fire was coming, but that didn’t stop me from praying for the rain.
God knows when we’re weak and weary. He knows when we’re heavy laden, and he wants to lift that burden from our shoulders.
He already sees it all, already knows it all, already knows exactly what’s going to happen. Even when we don’t. Even when we’re drowning in uncertainty and burning alive with pain.
I know that God is faithful. And I know that He can heal and redeem. I know that He can lift me up as quickly as I was knocked down.
I’m tired. I’m worn out. And all that’s left is seeking His rest.
God provides in incredible ways. His ways are not our ways, His thoughts are not our thoughts, and His time is certainly not our time.
Last night I faced some fears in a very real and tangible way. It wasn’t my will, but it was probably God’s will for me. Through this experience, although a huge trigger, also brought some peace and calm.
Things are changing. And I’m not sure what to think about it. I’m not sure how to feel. I guess it’s a long time coming. But I’m just so afraid sometimes.
I don’t want to live in denial. I don’t want to be owned by fear. And I don’t want to be trapped by idols.
Abuse seems to take a long time to heal. And I’m not sure when I’ll ever truly feel whole again. I put the effort in, I go to therapy, I read books to help improve myself. I journal, and analyze. I reflect on everything that’s happened, everything I’ve done, and then some.
I have a pattern of slipping into guilt and shame. I have a pattern of giving in, not letting go. I have a pattern of allowing others to control me, then crawling back for more because I feel responsible to heal their pain.
But I am not the savior. No matter how hard I try. And it doesn’t do anyone in the situation any good to go back for more abuse.
I’m just so tired.
I want to be free. But not in a small sense, or only one area, I want to be free completely. And with His strength, I will.
Earlier this week I wrote about a recent travel experience and how much the extroverting drained me.
And as I’m sitting here thinking about it, I just feel so ungrateful. My husband has been really busy with work, and we haven’t gotten as much time to spend together, then I go on a trip with him, and it’s too much and I complain about it.
That’s not to say that the introversion needs are not 100% valid, but there’s another side too.
I think everything is about balance. The trip was really good for us in a lot of ways. We had conversations that were meaningful and brought understanding to both of us, we were able to work on some communication issues that have been a problem for a long time now, and I don’t think they will be (as much) in the future, because we’ve gained clarity.
I don’t want to be the type of person always looking at the dark cloud in my life. There will always be something good, and something bad. Yes, the trip left me feeling drained, and it’s important to have awareness of that and make adjustments for next time, but it was also a huge blessing in a lot of ways.
We choose what we sacrifice for. Even though it may not always feel like it. What things are worth suffering for? And what lessons can we learn to make things better next time?
Acknowledge the cloud. Find the silver lining. There’s always something that can help us grow.
My husband and I just got back from a week long trip a few days ago. I’ve been feeling absolutely exhausted since getting home, sleeping in way past when I normally would, and still feeling completely worn out.
My diet has been fairly filled with leftover sugar, so I assumed that was the cause of it. And it very well may be part of it, it certainly doesn’t help.
But it wasn’t until getting an email on introversion that it finally clicked that part of my exhaustion is probably due to all the extroverting I had to do on the trip.
I feel my introversion very physically. I know this about myself, but somehow I overlooked it this time.
My husband and I were together almost the entire trip. I love him, but he’s still a person, and even when we’re doing introvert things in the same room, we’re still in the same room. It’s different than being alone.
A couple days in and we had to socialize with others. By that point we were both completely exhausted and not really wanting to visit with the people we had traveled to visit. We both just wanted to crash (my husband’s an introvert too).
But we pushed through, we visited, and had a good time even, but the tiredness grew steadily worse.
We got home a few days ago, and still haven’t fully recovered. It’s going to take some time, but it’s also helpful to be armed with the knowledge of how too much extroverting affects me. And that it’s the lack of time alone that’s leaving me drained.
Next time I’m going to be more intentional about getting the space I need. And it’s never for nothing when experiences teach us something moving forward.
Do you have a similar experience when traveling with others? I’d love to hear your thoughts. 🙂
It’s a perfect, stormy day today. My husband and I just got home from a trip and I’m so thankful to have a day to just relax in our home and have some cozy introvert time.
There’s nothing like a warm cup of tea on an overcast and stormy day, the world is dark, and it’s like being wrapped in a blanket from above, given permission to just be present and soak up the cozy time alone.
I’m thankful to be here. Thankful for the life we have together. I’m thankful for all the many realizations, and subtle shifts, though I’m not sure yet where any of these things will lead.
And still, there is peace. I feel a contentment that I hadn’t felt before. I feel better able to sit back and trust that God has everything under control, and it’s not up to me to figure everything out. I only need to trust Him. Because He sees behind and ahead, with perfect clarity.
And so today, I’m thankful for the rain, I’m thankful for the storm. And I’m thankful for my time to be an introvert indoors.
What are you thankful for today?