Hurting hurts worse than I had imagined.
It's made me into a not very nice person. I'm mad at everyone who can't understand my pain. I am selfish and don't really listen when others tell me their stories. I snap at Chad for any mistake. I judge those on the "outside" for the judging I imagine they're doing of me. I doubt myself. I doubt God.
It's not attractive being broken.
I've judged so many broken people in my life. Until now, I've only experienced pain that could be denied or covered up or heals with time. Then Grace got cancer and those methods no longer work. I've never had to live without a safety net before. God had always been that for me, but now I realize that it was an illusion. In my belief, that net was always going to catch me the way I wanted to be caught. It would never allow me to get hurt. God is my hope, but his safety net looks a lot less safe because I now know it obeys his directions and not mine. The potential for death is real. Pain is real. And that frightens me. God is good, but he is not tame.
I realize now I treated the emotional pain of the last two years like a lazy gardener. I would snap off the blossoms and tear out the leaves and imagine I had solved the problem. But pain is like a weed. You can kill everything that's seen on the surface, but unless you dig down into the soil and tear out all the roots, the weed will return again and again. But digging hurts and is messy. But the pain keeps returning and so I am ready to learn how to dig.
I'm starting a new step study at CR which is supposed to go more deeply into recovery. That's a good thing because I've since realized that my coping mechanisms were not healthy, and now I'm not in denial, I feel EVERYTHING and have no skills to cope with it. Every minute that isn't filled with activities is a minute that hurts me.
I'm also going back to therapy and will consider going onto antidepressants if she recommends them. I figure it's that or alcoholism*. Something has to change. A heart can only hurt this intensely for so long.
I wish I could say God was my relief. I want him to be. The problem is that I'm currently avoiding him whenever possible. He is the thing I am most afraid of and angry at. Also I'm a people pleaser (aka co-dependent) and so confrontation is hard for me. Confronting God sounds like the worst thing in the universe right now. So I return to denial like a dog returns to its vomit, though it hasn't reduced my heart ache.
Until now I always assumed, with self-will and determination, anyone was capable of pulling themselves up by their bootstraps...in the name and power of Jesus, amen. Now I see that there are some forms of broken that we can not come through unscathed no matter how much we want to. It's not always a matter of will or strength.
The comfort is that I do know God is faithful. That's why I'm not afraid to be this way. I know his faithfulness will come through and save me. God is faithful and I am not required to carry the burden of being "faithful" or "victorious". He can handle my anger and fears and doubts. Though I am afraid of him, I am unafraid of him turning away from me. I know he will not desert me in my pain. I know he is not put off by my ugliness.
I am praying that through this journey I will find God for who he really is, and not as I've wanted him to be. That I will come through this a whole woman, full of compassion and hope. I know God will lead me there. I am hurting, but I am not afraid.
"Morning by morning new mercies I see.
All I have needed, thy hand has provided.
Great is thy faithfulness, Lord unto me."
*disclaimer: the alcoholism reference is me being sarcastic. I would never choose a horrific disease like alcoholism that would destroy myself and my marriage and my kids.
I'm sorry that you're going through this...hope you can survive without antidepressants, or even alcohol, both of which have killed too many good people already. Prayers said.
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