I just typed and posted, no editing...
When you are super busy, as in packing a house full of 11 people's things, trying to keep said house clean to sell it, and trying to be a wife/mother to the people that own the things in said house, it is easy to pretend that it's not happening again.
I have been feeling it creep in again. It is sneaky and it is a thief. It takes your peace. It takes your joy. It starts out slowly and then all of a sudden you realize that you are sitting in a room full of people, people that you love more than anything, more than yourself and you feel utterly and totally alone. That realization is it's own kind of sadness. It is a sadness that comes with disappointment.
I have been through this before. I have felt the overwhelming dark. The dark that just sort of settles over you like a cloud. I felt it before and I managed to climb out from under it. But each time, it gets a little bit harder.
When I finally realized what was going on, I thought back. There have been many signs that the darkness was coming again. It started months ago. I stopped running and then I stopped exercising. I was too busy. There were too many things going on. The house needed to be packed and cleaned and put on the market to be sold. The kids had sports and school functions that they needed to be driven to. There were just so many things going on. There is still so much to be addressed. It can be overwhelming. So of course the first thing that I let slip is the time for myself. I would like to think that it was because I wanted to do what was best for my family. But in the interest of complete honesty, it was really because I was just too tired. Once I let the exercise slide, other things started to be placed aside too. I stopped taking the time to paint my nails and tweeze my eyebrows. I know that sounds silly, but it just signified a lessened value of myself and time for me. I found it harder and harder to focus, to write, to pray. My already limited patience whittled away to being almost nonexistent. I tried to be the mom that I wanted to be, but failed at that as well. The combination of my short temper and my perfectly normal, active and noisy kids has been, well... less than good.
I also noticed an increase in a few things. An increase in computer time, be it Facebook or Pinterest, was one. An increase in the amount of ice cream I was eating. An increase in the amount of wine that I was enjoying. An increase in my waistline. And an increase in my guilt, the crushing guilt that accompanies the darkness.
Why am I not content with my beautiful family and my handsome husband? I should be more than content, I should be thrilled.
Why can't I be the mom that I want to be? Why can't I be the patient, kind and loving mom that my kids deserve?
How in my plummeting self worth, have I become so wrapped up in myself and my sadness, that I have allowed everything else slide too?
It is rather ironic that in the attempt to get away from myself and my ever growing list of faults, I have become so self-involved that I can't get out of bed in the morning? I wake up every morning and I pack my husband's lunch and make his coffee. And then rather than taking that time of beautiful, sweet peace to focus on a routine prayer time and then allow myself the time to exercise, before starting the day with my loves, I don't. Instead I crawl back into my bed because the thoughts of starting another day under the weight of the darkness, seem to be too big, too heavy. And that is of course followed by the guilt that I can't do my job as a mother properly. I am once again, letting my kids down. I am letting my husband down. I am letting myself down....again.
It is also not lost on me the irony that when I need to feel the closeness of God the most, I feel the farthest away from Him. I am so good at posting the uplifting memes on facebook. I lead the Lenten Rosary page on facebook. I preach to my children to read the daily readings and pray the rosary, all the while I am struggling to finish a decade on my own. At church when I pray, I know deep, deep down, that my prayers are heard, but I also struggle to care either way. Wow, how is that for honesty? I know that I want to feel connection again. I want to feel the connection to my husband, to my kids, to God, even to myself. I do I want it, but it seems to be so very far away. I feel so very far away.
That is when the weight of the darkness really feels crushing. That is where I am right now. I am pretty good at putting on a good front, so most people wouldn't even realize the secret that I hide. But the truth is that it is there. It is always hovering right over me leaving it's shadow to show in my eyes. But it will be ok. I will be ok. How do I know this you ask. Especially when I am so clearly stuck in the middle of this mess. I know because it has happened before. I have felt the disconnect, the loneliness, the darkness before. And I fought it and I won. I put myself first and focused on my health, each and every aspect of it. I exercised and I started to run. I felt fit and healthy. I loved to feel the strength of my new body. I felt good in my skin. I also focused on my spiritual health. I had a devoted prayer time each and everyday. It was amazing to feel that connection with the Lord. I was really aware of His presence in my everyday life. With these two key things firmly in place and a little bit of medication, I felt a balance that I hadn't known in a long, long time.
I also have a family and friends that never fail to show me that they care. The support that I need is there. I just have to allow them to show it. That is the hard part. It is really, really hard to admit not only to yourself, but also to those that you love, that you are not ok. You want their help, no, actually you NEED their help.
This is how I know that I will be ok again. I have all of those things. They are all right there waiting for me to just take them. I have made an appointment with my doctor. I have opened up to my husband and a few close people. I have realized that starting to "ugly cry" just because it is raining, well that is not normal. I want to feel balance again. I need to feel balance again.
So there it is everyone. It is my truth. My truth is out there in the big, bad internet for everyone to see. But I think that the truth is what we need. We need to know that behind the smiles, there can be pain hiding. We need to know that in the darkness, we CAN find a light. Sometimes the light comes in the way of having someone to talk to, to vent to, to share a glass of wine with. Sometimes the light comes in the shape of writing and writing and writing until you write it all out. Sometimes it comes from a doctor throwing you a lifeline in the form of a pill. Sometimes it comes in the shape of the outstretched arms on a cross. In my case, it comes in all of these shapes. It comes wherever you can find it. So my friends, if you are fighting this battle as well, look. Look for your light. It is there, I promise. And please know that you are not in this battle alone.