Early this week I wrote about how I've forgiven my brother, and though while things are still new and a little scary, I was doing better. It felt so good to write those words, to know they are true, and that they are only possible because of God. But the aftermath of declaring those things to the world (or the 5 of you who read this) has been hard.
I wanted to write earlier in the week, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I felt so proud after that post, and then bam, just like that, it all shattered. I didn't want to admit to anyone that I was not okay. I mean, how could I after that? But the truth is, I'm not okay.
Not long after writing the post, in the middle of the night, I had a flashback. It was scary and real and it sent me into a tailspin of panic that I've never before experienced. I cried and shook and screamed and I wanted so badly to cut or drink or do anything that would numb it all. Stacey came, out of no where (because the internet was out at her house she showed up at mine at midnight... yeah, thanks God) and picked the lock to the bathroom door, where I was huddled in the shower. After much coaxing and calming I finally slept around sunrise. The next day, I was just drained and defeated. How could this happen so quickly? How could everything go so wrong in such a short amount of time. I'm supposed to be better! It isn't supposed to be like this anymore.
I've spent the last three days in a horrible cycle of physical illness and self-destructiveness that I don't really care to admit to. I didn't eat for three days, too ill to keep anything down, and too defeated to care. I took too many meds hoping to defeat a migraine and keep the nightmares at bay. Eventually I just cried out to God, literally lay my head in his lap and just prayed myself to sleep over and over again.
This morning a friend told me that it's no wonder I'm struggling after that blog post. The enemy will do anything to knock me down and that I had to fight it. I didn't want to hear those words. I wanted her to comfort me, to tell me it was going to be okay, but instead she spoke wisdom and truth. So here I am, trying desperately to fight it.
After the last post someone told me that they felt like I was holding back, that it wasn't me, not really, not deep, just scratching the surface. She was right, it wasn't all of me. But I'm here now. I'm here being real and telling you that I'm not okay. I've figured out in the last few days that the thing about getting better is that sometimes, you don't. You take 1 step forward and 3 steps back. It's a process, and some days are going to be better than others. Some weeks are going to be better. It doesn't make me weak, it makes me human. I'm trying to pick myself back up. This week has been hell, but I'm determined to make it through. Even though I am in emotional distress, and even though it isn't going to go away overnight, I am going to make it. I will survive this.
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.