I hurt.

I've been trying to be upbeat, or at least quiet, as not to drag every one down with me. But lets face it, I'm depressed.

And not that cliche teenage girl depression. I hurt with every fiber of my being. I don't want to drag everyone down, but in my defense this is my blog. My place to say what I need to say.

So I'm saying it. I'm unbalanced. I'm depressed. I want to crawl into my bed and stay there. I don't want to see people. I don't want to do anything.

But I am.

Tonight I went to our monthly Ladies Devotional. I didn't want to go, but I did. And I'm glad I did. For the first time in weeks I felt present. I felt happy. I laughed. I laughed hysterically talking with other moms about our crazy kids. It felt so good.

And then I got home.

And I'm right back to being depressed. Right back to hurting. I know I can't just lay down and give up, but I'll be honest, I'm tired of fighting. Tired of hurting. Tired of fighting with the PTSD. I'm tired of flashbacks and tired of dreams. I'm tired of the irrational outbursts of anger. I'm tired of all of this mess. I just want it to be over.

And in the midst of it there are little rays of light. Little rays of happiness, little run ins with "God with skin on". And it makes it all worth fighting. But it is tiring, that is for sure. It is taking it out of me. I am hanging in and holding on, but I'm exhausted from it.

Okay, I think I'm done rambling now. Perhaps I should go to bed. MMMM bed :)
2 Responses
  1. OneGirl Says:

    Does it help if you listen to music, maybe? Upbeat music helps me at times. Not sure, but maybe it could help you a little?


  2. Suzanne Says:

    Court-hang in there, I really wish I lived closer to you. I would invite you into my somewhat messy home and you could sit on the bench at our kitchen table and I could try to be witty and make you laugh!
    Remember, this is ALL temporary! Take care!


Post a Comment

  • 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.