Alone and Afflicted

This weekend I have been struck with deep sadness. My heart feels heavy and my thoughts continuously swim through my mind beckoning to me to drown alongside them. I go from feeling frustrated at my inability to feel joy to weeping uncontrollably at my isolation. I look around me and all I see are blessings. I am so blessed. Yet here I am nearly 28 and I still can't fight my darkness.

I will be openly honest and say out loud that I have sought help. I have been going to counseling for about two months and my last session was extremely eye opening. For about a week I felt rejuvenated. I felt like I had begun walking down a path that actually might lead somewhere. I felt hope and for perhaps the first time in my life I felt like I was not broken. Then this weekend I just started crying and crying. Welcome to depression.

I am okay though. I know I am okay. I understand that this surge is a mixture of hormones combined with the cross that I will forever have to carry. I have come to terms with my cross and slowly have come to embrace it. I often think of St. Teresa of Calcutta and the darkness she experienced and I know I'm in a good company.  Not that I am anywhere near being a saint. I'm simply a work in progress. 

There is something that bothers me though. Something that has haunted me since I was a child. Often I thought it might be a byproduct of my depression. Lately though I have come to question if it is something entirely different. Perhaps I actually have more control over it than I realized. I just have no idea how to actually regain that control. 

I am unbelievably lonely and I don't know how to take a step forward. I am cemented in my lack of confidence, social awkwardness and natural introverted tendencies and I have no idea how to break free. I cannot pinpoint if my inability to create a community stems from the amount of times people I have loved have broken me or simply a defect in my personality. My gut tells me it's a combination of both. Regardless of the reasoning, the older I get the worse I feel. As much as I love my best friend that is my darling husband, I long to have strong female friendships in close proximity to me. I need to have the opportunity to enjoy someone over a cup of coffee and have them equally enjoy me. I need someone who will pray for me, pray with me, love my children and be an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on. Without trying to sound too much like I'm writing a dating ad, I need someone to authentically love me. 

Once again however, I have no idea where to start. I do not know how to take a step. Fear overpowers me, anxiety floods me and despair torments me.

So I'll keep praying. Praying for opportunities and for the courage to take those opportunities. Praying for time and for patience. But mostly praying for a whole world that is filled with lonely people. Because I know how devastating this feeling is and I know that we all need more love in our lives. 

"Look upon me, have pity on me,

for I am alone and afflicted.

Relieve the troubles of my heart;

bring me out of my distress.

Look upon my affliction and suffering;

take away all my sins.

See how many are my enemies,

see how fiercely they hate me.

Preserve my soul and rescue me;

do not let me be disgraced, for in you I seek refuge.

Let integrity and uprightness preserve me;

I wait for you, O LORD." Psalm 25:16-21

Dear Family and Friends

Perhaps my skin is not as thick as I thought it was. Perhaps as my husband puts it, I do care too much about what other people think. Perhaps I do need to quiet all the voices around me and take a step back and evaluate everything through a different filter. Perhaps all of these are true. However, there is one thing that I know without a doubt and that is I will forever be my biggest critic.

About a week ago I purchased my daughter's homeschool curriculum for preschool. I pressed the register button with a wave of nausea and excitement. I was hit with emotion of the fact that my daughter is old enough to go to preschool and the fear that I am making the wrong decision.

Ever since my husband and I decided that it was in our children's best interest to homeschool I have been hounded by opinions from the outside world. They have come from family members, coworkers, friends and occasionally even strangers in the grocery store. There are two questions I dread from everyone. 1. Do you plan on having more children? 2. When will your daughter start school? Both answers usually either give me an earful or perhaps worse, not a response at all but a look that says much more than words could express. In regards to home schooling, I hear the same things echoed in everyone's voice. "Aren't I afraid my kids are going to turn out antisocial?" "Won't your children be behind academically?" "Your children will be missing out on so many important milestones that only an education outside of the home would provide." "When will you have the time?" Although mostly well intended, their concerns are exhausting to say the least. At worst, they're downright hurtful and insulting. It is almost as they think my husband and I woke up one day and said, "Hey, you know what we should do? Ruin our kids life and lock them up at home and brainwash them with only subjects we want them to learn and never let them interact with the outside world" They never saw the hours I spent researching different curriculum. They didn't hear the prayers I said asking for clarity and guidance. They didn't witness the sleepless nights questioning if I in fact was about to go and ruin my children's lives. They can't feel the fear I have that I am making the wrong decision. So instead of loving my husband and I and supporting us, I'm feeling even more weighed down by their negativity.

When I first became a mother I never pictured homeschooling my daughter. The idea of sending her to public school seemed like a guarantee and I barely thought about it. But as time passed public school became charter school, charter school became Catholic school and then Catholic school became homeschool. It was an evolved decision that did not happen over night. I also have enough humility and common sense to enter this journey on a trial basis. I have roughly a year to discern if I can do this. If it is the right fit for our family. And if it is not, then I will enroll my daughter in Catholic school for her Kindergarten year.

As a parent I have been entrusted with the souls of my children. It is a responsibility that is overwhelming and a privilege that I am honored to have. I will do everything I can to love, nourish and protect them. Everyone will always have their opinion and in the eyes of perhaps many, I am not going to be nominated for mother of the year. At the end of the day however, they are my children. I have the duty and right to raise them how my husband and I feel is best. Although I desire my family and close friend's blessings, it is unnecessary. I just hope one day they can at least offer their respect.

To my family and friends who have shown me support, thank you. You are wonderful and a fresh breath of air to this mama who oh so often struggles to breathe.

I'm not sure where to begin. How many ways can you say the same thing? How many times will I find myself in this same place? This hole simply gets deeper and darker.

I have a desire to speak. No, I have a desire to scream. To demand all that I deserve but will never get from those who only think they care. The world is filled with selfish, unreliable people. It's naive to think my own personal world would be any different.

There is no point in saying more. It falls on deaf ears and I'm tired of the cycle anyway.

Grief

This past week I did a training on grief in relation to reproductive loss. While I have never experienced such a loss, the grief training was discussed as grief from reproductive loss being similar to any type of loss. It was a powerful presentation on how to compassionately discuss and handle grief from clients who have either miscarried or had an abortion. It opens the door that is so often shut due to a societal taboo. I was very glad I went but I will not lie if I said the training was emotionally easy. Not only was my heart opened further for those who have experienced a reproductive loss, it made me think of all the losses in my life and the different degrees of grief I have endured.

One of the biggest component that hit me on Thursday was the concept of how much a loss of any type can change you. The reality that who you were before the loss no longer exists. As a human race I believe one of our biggest struggles is letting go. We constantly try to go back to a certain time when things were where we wanted them. We try to recreate feelings we once had or experiences that made us feel whole. But the truth of the matter is we cannot do this. Once we experience something that shakes us to the core and uproots our life we cannot go back. We are forever changed. We are molded by our past situation and will forever see the world through the lenses of our experience. This does not mean we cannot heal. It does not mean we cannot forgive or move on. It just means that we are a different person. It is foolish to think you can go back and be who you used to be. Life does not have a rewind button or delete. It just has a move forward.

Acceptance plays a huge part. In order to move forward and gain a sense of normalcy we have to accept the new version of ourselves. We have to accept our new reality. Perhaps even harder is that we need to find people and surround ourselves with those who can accept you too. People who do not question why you've changed. People who do not demand that you simply reset and restart but understand that life changed you. You need to find people who will love you through it.