I feel like the band aide has been ripped off my wound. I have been numb for weeks, functioning on auto pilot. I have gone for weeks without feeling a thing, except for random break through episodes of anger. Oh, I can feel anger. My anger isn't ever really because of anything specific, it just comes. I am totally capable of aiming it at people, but there is almost never a specific reason. But mainly, I feel nothing. Big fat piles of neutral. I can't even explain how hard that is for me. There is so much raging in my head, so many different things going on, and I'm incapable of dealing with any of it. Feeling any of it. It's like I'm watching someone else's life go by. You know, until now.
Now, I feel like the room is spinning. Like.. It's all spiraling down, out of control. The hurt is welling up in my chest, threatening to take me over if I let my guard down for just a second. I can't sit still. I can't stop interacting with people. If I do, it's over. Part of me wants to just let it swallow me whole. I've been wanting this to come. I've prayed that God would break the numbness. I felt like I couldn't take anymore. I'm a little shocked and awed as to how it went about, but He answered that prayer, that's for sure.
I want to go crawl into my bed and turn the music on my ipod up really loud and just shut out the world. I want to let the hurt come in and surround me, take me over. And I can't. I must push on. I have things to do. There are people here. I can't let them see me like this. So I make jokes and I smile and I laugh and I go on. Because really I can't shatter just because I want to. No matter how badly I want to. I really don't think my brain is capable. Sad, I know.
I guess you could say all of these emotions are carried over from last night. If you know what I'm talking about, then I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for caring. For loving me like you've always known me. I can't explain to you what that means. How that feels. For now, I must go. There is cake waiting :) And lots and lots of little people.
I'm a wife. I'm a mom. I'm a photographer. I'm a lover of Jesus. My house is a mess, my kids are dirty, we eat take out more often than not. My life is loud, busy and crazy. And that's okay with me.
This is Eric, the man you've been praying for. He's a paramedic. He quilts in his spare time. No, I couldn't make that up :) He has NASH (a form of liver disease, non-alcoholic) and diabetes, but those things don't define him. He's a man of God, an insanely wonderful husband, and the best daddy in the world.. Just ask these guys..
Our daughter Ali, she's 9. She's fiercely opinionated and strong willed. She's a Daddy's girl, but the umbilical cord hasn't but cut from me, either. She's a gymnast, and proud of it. She spends more time upside down or turning flips than she does walking. She's crazy smart, and absolutely sure of it. She is my insufferable little know it all.
Our son Dylan, 7. We lovingly refer to him as Chubs. Or Chubby. Or fat boy. Ahem. He is all boy, as you can see by his crazy wild energy. He has the highest pain tolerance of any child I have ever met. He plays soccer and does gymnastics, but truly he is a gamer, a nerd. He is an avid reader and loves to climb. Not to be outdone by his sister, he's a drama king, but to him, I'm the best mommy in the world.
I'm here to use my voice. So many people can't. In a world of darkness, I just want to help God's light to shine through. I pray that my words are His, and my love is His, as well. This is my journey through the darkness. To start are the beginning of the story, click here.