Oct 202016
 

I’ve reached this sort of burn out that I didn’t know I could get if I wasn’t post-partum. This exhaustion that cuts into the marrow of my bones and sucks me dry. A weekend, the kind where you relax and have happy family time isn’t in the foreseeable future, but when is it when you have teens?

Between teens wandering off and sports I am beginning to believe I live in the car. My autoimmune issues are in a constant flare-up, my allergies are beginning to feel like a disease and I have literally dangled by my hair from the seatbelt trying to escape the all-wheel drive jail cell.

I should be grateful for all that I have, and in actual fact, I am. I know that I have far more blessings than so many people in this world but that doesn’t change that I am falling asleep everywhere, not sleeping when I need to, and have a to-do list a mile long with worry on my mind and pain in my soul.

I actually look forward to a Monday now because that means the hectic weekend is over and that I can check off some of those boxes and try to detox my soul by sinking into the Word while allowing it to sink into me.

Don’t ever ask a stay at home mama what she does all day, because it is really exhausting, even if you are healthy.

Oct 192016
 

This song has been a favorite of mine by Evanescence for years. I love the way they express the pain inside of my brain and that longing to be noticed while craving to go unnoticed all at the same time. PTSD is hard. Wanting to disappear has become a part of who I am. Knowing someone has felt the same, or close enough to have written the words and designed the music helps me to realize that my broken-self isn’t alone.

“Missing”

Please, please forgive me,
But I won’t be home again.
Maybe someday you’ll look up,
And, barely conscious, you’ll say to no one:
“Isn’t something missing?”

You won’t cry for my absence, I know –
You forgot me long ago.
Am I that unimportant…?
Am I so insignificant…?
Isn’t something missing?
Isn’t someone missing me?

[Chorus:]

Even though I’m the sacrifice,
You won’t try for me, not now.
Though I’d die to know you love me,
I’m all alone.
Isn’t someone missing me?

Please, please forgive me,
But I won’t be home again.
I know what you do to yourself,
I breathe deep and cry out,
“Isn’t something missing?
Isn’t someone missing me?”

[Chorus]

And if I bleed, I’ll bleed,
Knowing you don’t care.
And if I sleep just to dream of you
I’ll wake without you there,
Isn’t something missing?
Isn’t something…

[Chorus]

Oct 182016
 

Growing up my cousins were our neighbours on two sides. We played and shared and went frog hunting and tadpole catching in the ponds on our property. We ice skated with neighbour kids in winter and then one spring when I was 9 the police came and searched and searched some more for my older cousin who went missing.

They found his body 3 days later at the bottom of the highest cliff about a kilometer into our backyards, across the highway. They said that he had no stomach contents and that he had likely only been dead a few hours.

The official cause of death was suicide, the unofficial was blunt force trauma to his skull, presumably as he fell. How a 17 year old goes without food or water when a corner store and unlocked houses are within shouting distance, for several days never sat well with me. It didn’t sit well with the retired police chief who offered to look into it as a homicide and it didn’t sit well with my grandpa either.

My aunt and uncle didn’t want the help though, so the ruling was as is and the priest denied my cousin his last rites, because you can’t receive more than a blessing if you have taken your own life.

I tended his grave for years, going and wiping the fresh cut grass from the stone and making sure the solar light I bought was still lighting at night, the shepherds hook it hung on something I knew would help guide him to the Light and keep him there.

I don’t believe that suicide is a sin. I know a lot of people do, including the church. I have faith in a God who does not punish those who are mentally ill, and if you have ever been depressed or suicidal you know that there is no such thing as “rational” when in that state of mind. The act of suicide isn’t to cause pain, it’s a final and desperate attempt to end your own.

Whether suicide or homicide I have prayed that as my cousin flew to the ground below that he felt no fear, only peace and maybe even a moment of joy knowing that this act was the pathway to freedom from what we call life.

Jul 262016
 

As I sit here loading the word document to write I notice that the sky outside looks like cotton candy and I spring to life at 9:30pm wearing my pj’s and grabbing my camera once again to capture a couple of glimpses of the sky that God painted just for me.


I have seen a lot of amazing sky’s out of this window while sitting on my bed. It’s amazing how different it can look from window to window only to be the same exact moon and stars that we all get to see. It is fun to talk to a friend 18 hours away and both be looking at the moon or hunting down the big dipper. Somehow the universe as we are able to see it, seems so big, and I feel so small and yet I know that my place in this world is exactly where I was created to belong.


I’ve been feeling more like me than I was at the beginning of the month. I think it’s fair to say I was having some sort of mini-breakdown, if they can be mini… I think I had a dozen or more cold showers in the midst of panic attacks over nothing, almost always in the night.


The past week I have been picking up the pieces here and there. I am still behind but things are getting done. I’ve been dusting and vacuuming and lighting candles again. Cleaned off some surfaces, switched my purse to a different one for the first time in a couple of years, and I even made myself iced coffee. When I am feeling bleh I don’t drink coffee for the most part, so having a homemade iced mocha made me feel human and gave me a good 14 grams of protein along with the caffeine!


I am currently burning a blueberry scented soy candle that is tucked inside of my REDEEMED holder, reminding me that “Everything is beautiful in its time” and that while I fell behind on household tasks there is no reason that I can’t just hop right back in and tidy up and do what I can while doing my best to take care of myself and not risk burn out again. You can check out DaySpring for inspirational home décor, cards and so much more. I have purchased most of my décor from them as well as a purse and makeup travelling bag! You can also earn up to 6% cashback through my Swagbucks link and right now you can save an additional 25% sitewide during the customer appreciation sale with coupon code THANKYOU

I LOVE these wooden letters and this Bible cover has enough space for me to tuck in extra papers, small bible studies and so much more!


Jul 182016
 

I had no date this weekend, meaning, me and my boy didn’t go out together. He did go and play tennis with his uncle though. I have never seen two peas in a pod until I see those two. They read the same books, play the same games, fight over the broccoli, love the same sports and even wear their hair the same -shaved. The only real difference is about 16 years. It is nice that my little man gets to have man time with someone who pushes him and encourages him, even when they both come home starving and sweaty.


My back pain has been brutal this past month. I don’t know what’s going on with my body. Pain meds aren’t touching the pain much, just making me feel semi-stoned, and the feedback on that from family is “you are seriously annoying” and “can you please talk slower?” I have no desire to go to the doctor or wait on new tests or to try new meds… I feel so over all of this, throwing in the towel really feels like the best option right now. Just saying screw it to my body and continuing to try and be active on days I can be, take care of myself the way I have been and taking my supplements.

I started an old antidepressant again. I quit it back in February but with my emotions being so whacked and my pain being so crazy we decided to try it again, since it not only helps with the insanity but is also proven to be helpful with some types of pain. The parts that suck though is that it is another medication. I take sooo many pills every day not including my supplements or pain killers and it’s just frustrating. I want to be off of my meds so I can get pregnant and not worry about hurting a baby, or travel without worrying about refills, or worrying about whether or not I should be driving. I miss normalcy, though, I don’t think I have ever actually had normal. I have always had pain, starting when I was about 12 and I have struggled with my mental health since I was raped when I was 12, though, I never began medications until I had post partum depression and then really started meds when I was diagnosed with PTSD after escaping a severely insane relationship.

Jul 122016
 

I stood there, without a towel, naked, my long hair dripping at top speed town onto the dirty towel on the floor, it quickly becoming soaked as I tried to figure out what the hell just happened. My skin burning, everywhere, because of the extremely rapid and aggressive scrubbing of the brush against my skin as panic overtook me further and I was trying to scrub off the nastiness I felt all over me, running down the drain.

Only, the scrubbing didn’t get rid of the yuck my body feels. I looked down and saw blood pouring down and wondered when I cut myself. I stumbled backwards and almost fell as I looked at my wrists to see what the damage was, I blinked and blinked again as I looked at myself only to realize that the water was running clear and there was no blood, “just” a flashback flooding me, reminding me of a time not so long ago.

I had nothing to wear except the pj top I had stripped off and everyone was already in bed so I couldn’t call out for a fresh towel or clothes. I looked at myself, naked, in the fogged over mirror and still felt dirty, I reached for my Faceshop aloe cleanser and my Clarisonic and scrubbed my face, I didn’t think I did it too rough until I was rinsed and applied the moisturizer. I didn’t know a 90 dollar moisturizer could sting so bad and I didn’t know the sting my body was feeling was exactly what I needed to snap back into reality.

I wrapped a half dozen elastics around my sopping hair and tossed on the dirty pj top and shut the hot water off. My heart was still pounding, it still is, but the panic seemed to have left me, I was back in reality and doing my best to dry a semi-soaked bathroom with a washcloth. I did my best, it wasn’t much, but at least I feel semi in control again.

The stairs, 12 of them. I counted 12. I usually count by 6 and when I got to the bottom I noticed that I had went all the way to 12 but I couldn’t go back up and start again. There was hair dripping and needing help and…

Maybe the panic attack isn’t over…

Jul 112016
 

I feel like I am being crushed by the world. My heart is broken. My soul a shadow that doesn’t want to be caught, possibly the only part of me that has escaped bondage and is truly free. I will never find a way to heal my soul or a Wendy to stitch it on.

I cry tears that only a dark angel dares to see, to wipe from salt stained cheeks. And I look to the sky and wonder if God is looking down at the broken mess of me. The unspoken broken a fiery light ablaze while I’m on scraped knees.

No one physical to pull me from the wreck, to rescue me from a tainted reverie. To cup my chin and stop the river of tears flowing from my eyes. To wrap their arms around me, hold me, bring me to life.

I want to walk from the shore into the waters deep. Feel the cold touch me, the sandy bottom moving between my toes, my hair floating along the waters top like a weed let go. I want to exhale deep and sit below the surface while my lungs scream for air that isn’t there.

Look out across the gently stirred water and see legs and feet and faces splashing and playing as I inhale deep below. I want the pain of the rush filling my lungs. To stare up at the sun dancing in a billion fragments across the waters top while what’s left of life slips further and further away.

I am alone.

I am tired.

I am running low on tears and high on fears.

I am broken.

Alone.

Undone.

Maybe someone will reach in deep and grasp my soul, breathe it back to life in a way I can’t. There is a resemblance of hope -that I will wake from this dream. But, you know what they say about hope… It breeds eternal misery. I would hate to have to be eternally miserable when I am perpetually miserable here and running towards every sign with the word “exit” shining red against white.

I am far from fine again. I suspect that even that nonchalance is too hard to grip longer than the fake smile when asked how I am doing. Oh, man, do you really want the truth? Didn’t think so.

I just want to be alone in my own thoughts, the prison that I have created and yet I don’t want to be alone at all because those bars don’t just keep me from getting out, they keep others from getting in. A comfort that covers body, not the roaming soul.

Life isn’t a gentle zigzag like a feather makes when it falls from the sky. It’s choppy, unpredictable, painful and a road I am tired of travelling.

So tired…

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