Sometimes I feel like I only blog when I have something to whine about and no one to whine to. I mean obviously, there I people I *could* whine to, but I don't really want to.
I am frustrated. Tears are flowing and it makes me angry because this morning I was in such a good mood. I thought for sure the meds were kicking in and things were getting better and then wham. Blow to the head.
I know I'm in a manic cycle. I've had four hours of sleep and I woke up hyper. I realize this. However being the weird person I am, I can be depressed and manic at the same time. Or maybe I'm not depressed, I'm just crying because I'm frustrated and sad. That happens, right? I don't even know what normal emotions are anymore.
There are days when things are great and there are days when life seems like a never ending black hole and I'm sliding into it at an alarming rate and there's nothing I can do and it's all going down the drain.
I have to be in control and take care of everyone and the little girl in me wants to curl up in someone's arms and cry until I can't anymore and then sleep soundly without dreams or interruptions.
I want someone to come in and rescue me. Save me. Clean my house, do my laundry, pay my bills. You know, all those responsible things that adults do that I don't want to do. Surely this is going to get better. Surely life is going to get easier. Surely someday it's going to ease up. I know I whine a lot, but in my defense my life is like a proverbial train wreck. Something goes wrong every day and we have hospital bills coming out our ears and Ali has been complaining of chest pain, and Eric is sick and without pain meds, and I'm tired. And battling Bipolar disorder and PTSD. Welcome to the circus folks.
My words are not inspiring. I have nothing witty to say, no words of encouragement to lift the masses. All 2 of you. I just have the ability to tell you that you're not alone. I know that everyone is on their own path. There are people who are still in the depth of the darkness, lost in the hopelessness of the pain. There are those who've found their way out, finding the light, learning to be thankful and joyful in all circumstances, becoming stronger than the pain, and taking their steps, one after the other, forward. And then there are those of you who are just like me. Not quite still in the trenches, but certainly not standing at the other end of the tunnel. All I can offer you is hope. Keep going. Don't give up. Surely it Heaven will be worth it all.
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.