I sleep through most movies… it’s just who I am…

I am not sure that I have yet seen the movie Inside Out all the way through, but I get the premise of the movie.  It uses characters to represent emotions we all have.  Joy is the main emotion.  She works hard to oppress the rest of them, and I guess that’s a good thing we all want to feel joy right? Well, I think the movie is brilliant.  And I used it’s premise to explain the war in my head to my husband tonight.

In my head there is a war waging.  But instead of just the normal emotions of Inside Out- Joy, Anger, Fear, Sadness and Disgust.  I have some other characters in there.  Let me introduce you to them

Insight-also known as rational thought, and frontal cortex. Poor insight.  She knows the right decisions.  She’s rational.  She knows that her thoughts and feelings and sometimes actions are irrational.  She unfortunately is not as strong as the rest of the characters, and they tend to beat her up a lot.  She is often found crying, hiding in a corner rocking back and forth repeating “this isn’t the truth” over and over.  The other yell shut up so she just says it more quietly.

image1

Next is depression- depression is one of the Kings of my brain it (it isn’t a he or a she) thinks it’s in control, but it often saddened to learn that there is someone stronger you will meet later.

image2

Meet Anxiety.  When you get to know her at first you really like her.  She’s a real go-getter.  She has a list, she gets it done, she tries to keep control of every situation.  But then as you get to know her better she also has a dark side.  She likes order, and if you disrupt her order she causes her hosts body to go through physiological changes that can be scary.  The host starts, sweating, heart pounding, looking for escape because Anxiety has just activated the DANGER button… you know the red button in every movie you aren’t supposed to push? She pushes it, a lot, and it’s scary and bad things happen.

image3

Meet Anger.  We all have a bit of anger in us.  But for me, anger is always right at the surface.  He is waiting for someone to dare cross his host.  Or for anxiety to push the danger button, and when that happens he comes out and it’s not pretty.  He gets people’s attention.  He is loud, he yells, he sometimes scares people with his loudness and sometimes he says things he doesn’t mean.  But it’s job to protect.  OR so he thinks.

image4

Next is our friend PTSD.  He changes shape often.  This is his default form, but sometimes he can be found as a 4 year old little girl, a teenager, a preteen, an infant a young adult or anything in between.  PTSD comes out when triggered by a memory of an extreme situation in the host’s life.  PTSD is scared, PTSD is more than scared it is fearful and in fight or flight mode.  It wants to run far far away and escape the pain. PTSD gives no warning when it arrives but when it does you have no escape until it decides the memory has been fully relived and the danger is over.  I personally think He and Anxiety are dating.

image6

And finally we come to our friend, and the one in control of the host’s mind 99% of the time OCD.  OCD and Insight are mortal enemies.  OCD is out to destroy insight.  OCD wants order, OCD has rules and they must be followed.  OCD makes the host do his bidding whether through an obsession, a compulsion, a rule or some other weird ritual whether or not the host wants to.  OCD runs things around here.   And he is constantly making up new rules.  His newest rule is that there are 4 sets of clothing per day- clothing that is permissible in the barn (thereby being contaminated by the chickens and their dust), clothing permissible in public (thereby contaminated by being in public), clothing allowed in the house and on the furniture (but not in her bed, tho I do allow on top of the duvet), and pajamas.   Pajamas are only allowed only inside the covers, not on top of the duvet, allowed in the bathroom if it’s a must, and to go to the kitchen to get tea or a snack to be brought back to bed, as long as no furniture is touched.  He also controls whether or not the Host has the need to self harm,  over eat. not eat or punish herself in some other way shape or form.  There is not a rational bone in her body, and she has settled in for the long haul.  Everyday she adds new rules to the list, and they must be followed or contamination happens, or something bad might happen, to her, everything is life or death.

image5

So there you have it, the characters living inside my brain, waging war against poor Insight.  The meds are trying to help insight along but she’s simply limping along.  Most of the time she just goes into avoidance mode and let’s her host sleep, because during sleep the war is quiet, the battle is at a cease fire. But she knows this can only go on so long.  She’s not sure what will happen, or who will win, but she’s running scared that’s for sure.   She often wishes she didn’t exist because if she didn’t then she wouldn’t have to fight so hard. She could let the others run the place and she could park her butt on a beach in Tahiti and relax.

It really isn’t a fair fight.

Save

It’s NOT a good sign…

I’d say it’s not a good sign when at 10:13am you’ve met your quota of life for the day…. and you didn’t even get out of bed until 9:20am.  I’m just so over it all.  I don’t even have a specific reason and that’s what pisses me off the most.  If I had a reason say- someone peed in my corn flakes (which I didn’t have for breakfast I again gorged myself on cocoa pebbles the cereal that I would dare bet get soggiest in the milk before any other).  But no, there’s no reason.  No one has said a cross word, little one has been listening- actually she’s been training her kitten (everyone say awwww).  And hubby he’s had breakfast and done nothing to irritate me.  Big one won’t be home until about noon time. So who knows what my problem is. But I am just irritated and frustrated, and already ready for my nap.  Seriously, I have a problem.

I decided this week to write out a short narrative to share with my medication doctor because when I go into her office each week, or every other week I just have no answers for her, she asks how I am doing and I can’t remember, so I just say eh.  I guess ok. Unless I remember some specific event.  But I need to do better than that if I really want help and really want to feel better, because if this is as good as it gets, forget it, I am throwing in the towel here.

It’s taking so much effort just to write this, and it exhausts me knowing that big one is coming home soon, he’ll be wired, tired and irritable. We will argue and fight.  And my day will be ruined and so will his….. unless I just let him come home and play on his computer…. if I am honest that’s probably what I will do once he takes care of what he brought with him because my GAF is low today.  And I don’t mean global assessment of functioning for those in the psychiatric field.

We applied for SSDI for hubby last night, that was 4 hours of my life I will never get back, 4 hours of my life remembering the husband I used to have, the active, happy-go-lucky, positive, athletic husband.  Not the hurting, depressed, exhausted one I have now.  Don’t get me wrong I don’t love him any less, but I know that he hates being like this, he misses the old him as much as I do.  That makes me sad.

I guess that’s enough for now.  There will probably be more later……

This might be my last post of the day, or maybe not I can’t promise either way because I’m having a bad day with no one to talk to. Alternate title: My Counselor is PollyFuckingAnna (pardon my French)

First, I posted this in one of my support groups online and want to share it here.

My sister has always been my phone a friend. She’s not only my sister, she’s my best friend, she’s known me my whole life obviously, she went through the same childhood things I did, and she is also a licensed therapist, so while she keeps her ethics and doesn’t counsel me, she knows how to talk me down, she’s a great listener, she has a ton of insight into me, and is just a general overall comfort to me. But she has asked me to step back, and not come to her with this stuff for a while because our dad is in medical crisis that is taking up a lot of her personal time, and she doesn’t feel like she can handle us both. She is setting healthy boundaries, that I don’t blame her for in the least, but they are killing me. I need my phone a friend. When I am panicking the way I am today, when I just need to cry to someone I need her. We don’t usually talk on the phone because the phone is a trigger for me, we use messenger or text, but still I don’t have her. and I need her, but I can’t tell her how much I need her because my father is more emergent. He’s failing fast and we are trying to save him, from himself and his poor decisions. but I need my baby sister. I need her and I can’t have her. and I resent my father maybe that makes me an awful person but I won’t go into the reasons I can rationalize my feelings of resentment. I have a brother I could talk to, but he has a wife with issues of her own, and a son that he has to do most everything for because of his wife’s mental issues, plus he works all day at a bank,. he can’t very well be texting with me while doing his job.  I don’t want to be a burden to people, and until Dad’s medical crises I knew I wasn’t a burden sharing all this…. and I don’t want to put it on my status I am hiding my mental health issues from almost everyone in my life, and besides my sister will see it. I hope this post is ok, but I am really struggling today……

So there’s that.

But lets get to the alternate title about my counselor being Polly-Fucking-Anna.  First of all, you will rarely see me use profanity.  I am a Christian, I have strong morals and values and it’s against my moral code, except sometimes I slip up, and sometimes it’s the only word that fits.  And in this case, it is the only word.

My homework for the past 2 weeks is to write down 2 positive things about my life each day.  What a joke.  First of all, there are days I legitimately can’t find anything positive to say.  Im not going to say “I have a roof over my head”, or “I have food to eat” or “I have heat” or “Im not being sold into human trafficking”.  I mean come the hell on.  So let’s look at today.  Today I am going to write-

  1. I took a shower
  2. I vacuumed the rug in front of the kitchen door

But what we aren’t going to talk about- what she doesn’t want me to do is to turn those positives into negatives, but the truth is if you looked closer at them THEY ARE!

  1.  I took a shower today, I hadn’t taken one since Sunday, and the only reason that I took one was that I was contaminated from cleaning the catboxes, helping with trash day and vacuuming the contaminated rug.  So tell me is that REALLY a positive thing?

2.  I vacuumed the rug in front of the kitchen door.  Because I was obsessing about it.  It’s where everyone enters and removes their shoes because shoes beyond that point contaminates my home (but believe me the irony does not escape me we have dogs and cats with dirty paws I spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about that).  That’s the only reason. So tell me is that a positive?  Giving into an OCD requirement?

You know what else we aren’t going to talk about? The fact that between my last blog post and the vacuuming of the rug I spent about 15 minutes scratching my arms with my keys.

We also aren’t going to talk about that I now I have 3 levels of clothing contamination instead of 2.  1. Clothes worn outside of the house- they must come off when I come home. 2. Clothes worn in the house, may be worn on the furniture and on the outside of the duvet of my bed. 3. My pajamas, they may only be worn underneath my blankets or with no blankets, and must not leave my room except to go to the bathroom, or make our 1 time a night trek to the kitchen to get ice cream where they do not touch anything or any furniture.

We also aren’t going to talk about the fact that if I accidentally walk barefoot in my house I have to clean my feet with clorox wipes.  Even though we don’t wear shoes in the house.  I have to wear socks and preferably socks and slippers.  And every so often the bottom of my slippers are clorox wiped.

These are all the things we aren’t going to talk about.  She just wants a neat little list of the positive.  I call BS.  I think it’s a stupid assignment, I will do it because my OCD and Anxiety require me to do what is expected of me, lest someone be disappointed but I honestly am not sure that at this point in the therapeutic process this is very therapeutic.

And if I am feeling really brave I will share this with her next week….. we’ll see.

A day of triggers…

First little one isn’t listening.  The only job I have for her today is to clean her room, and she’s just not doing it.  I have cleaned her room 4 times in the last month and she has 4 times in the last month insisted on dumping everything in the middle of her floor.  I just can’t clean it today I don’t have it in me. So she HAS to do it, and I know she can.  She doesn’t clean it she doesn’t get her play date on Friday,  plain and simple.

Second, DHHS has sent us a paper requiring my husband to attend a 4 hour meeting about “back to work” and TANF introduction.  Firstly we have been on TANF for almost 2 years now, pretty sure we know how it works.  Secondly, he is exempt from the back to work program since he is under TANF because he is disabled, and 3rdly his doctor sent a note that he is not able to sit or stand for more than like 5 minutes…. how on earth can he attend a 4 hour meeting? So that triggered my anxiety.  And so I have to call them, I try to get through to talk to the person I usually deal with, she knows our case inside and out and they won’t let me talk to her OF COURSE so now I am on hold for what they say can be up to 45 minutes.  The phone is a HUGE trigger for me, I hate the phone. And to sit here listening to their crappy elevator music is making my heart race and my head pound.

Thirdly more phone stuff- big one as I mentioned took the train to the city to go to the museum and has called me no less than 6 times since 8am.  My father does the same thing.  They call and update me on every little thing they are doing.  I just took a poop.  Hi I just saw the probability exhibit.  Hi Im at dialysis.  Hi Im walking across the street. Seriously people, this is my life.  Sometimes I swear that big one is a clone of my dad in some ways.  DHHS finally answered I talked to them, they were no help as usual and now my hands are shaking and I am having a full on panic attack. The result of that conversation is that we need to call someone else. I had to make my husband call, I couldn’t hand it. I am so sick of dealing with people, with appointments for this that and the other thing. I can feel the panic rising up in my body starting with my feet and up to pounding in my ears as I listen to him talk to this lady on the phone who obviously doesn’t understand that his doctor said no sitting or standing for more than like 5 minutes and they want him to attend a 4 hour meeting. They don’t seem to get that he can’t do that.

Today is trash day, I had to clean the catboxes, therefore I am contaminated, and I am going to have to shower, but first I need to clean the rug near the door the contaminates brought in on our shoes (that’s as far as I allow shoes in my house), and the rug is very dirty and I am just freaking out. I am panicking over that too.

All these triggers are going to have a blow back.  I am going to do something I can feel obsessions and compulsions rising up into my throat.  I don’t know if that means that I am going to cut, or overeat, or just feel panicked all day.  But this isn’t good I haven’t felt this panicked since starting valium and my next dose isn’t for 3 hours.

I need to find someone to help me handle the daily rigors of life. Dealing with DHHS and doctors and everything else.  I need out of this life.

Why do I do what I do when I know I’m going to regret it??

That seems like a tongue twister to me- Suzie sell seashells by the sea shore…. that was hard to even type.

I slept in till 8am this morning.  Big one had a sleep over last night and is taking the train to the city to visit a museum with a friend of his.  His 8am call that they were about to board the train pulled me from my slumber.   Little one was still sleeping, and hubby is still sleeping now.

I got up, checked on little one and tried to climb back into bed, but once my feet hit the floor it’s usually all over for me. So I wrote out this morning’s Bible verse, something new I am trying to combat fear and anxiety, thought about the fact that I will have to find 2 positive things in today, then checked the mirror.  Greasy stringy hair and a tired looking beachball looked back at me.  I quickly calculated my last shower…. Sunday…. the day I took three.  I considered for a moment and decided I wasn’t going anywhere today and I did take 3 showers on Sunday and called it good enough.  Put on the same clothes I wore yesterday (but not the ones I left the house in because those are contaminated) ran a brush thru my stringy hair and headed downstairs.

By now little one was up and I got her some breakfast- there was some arguments about having lucky charms since she refuses to eat anything but the marshmallows and that marshmallows don’t make breakfast…. but in the end the fight wasn’t worth it, she got her breakfast of marshmallows Lucky Charms and her drink, and her ritalin.  And then I panicked.  Like I do EVERY SINGLE MORNING.  What if i I accidentally gave her one of big ones’ pills (even tho his are kept in a separate locations, and I check to make sure her name is on the bottle) or what if I gave her one of my valium?  I picked up the bottle again, my heart rate slowed and I calmed down realizing that yes it does have her name, and he name of her medication on it.

Next came the dilemma what do I eat? I wasn’t hungry, it was just time to eat according to my routine.  But if I eat as soon as I start it’s hard to stop until I have eaten so much I feel sick.  I started the coffee pot (BTW to anyone worried this anxiety filled crazy lady drinks decaf) and poured myself a rather large bowl of cocoa pebbles, cut up a banana in it, and added a lot of milk, filling the large bowl to the top.  I carefully walked to the table and ate my cereal as I read what fellow bloggers had to say. I finished that bowl, feeling full, but knowing full well what was about to happen.  And like I was an automaton I got up from my chair, got the cocoa pebbles down and poured another bowl, this time sans banana and somewhat smaller than the last bowl and proceeded to eat this entire bowl.

The coffee was ready now so I make my “cup” of coffee which I always drink out of one of those huge soup mugs.  So now as I sit here and type this my stomach is full. Over filled, I can feel it stretching as I sit here and sloshing with milk and coffee and cocoa pebbles.  I sit here, and I wonder why do I do this morning after morning? Causing myself physical and emotional pain…. knowing I am having extra calories that are unneeded and making myself sick.  Wondering if it’s really any different than the physical marks I make on my body that we all call self harm? Wondering why my husband finds this type of self abuse more acceptable?  Wondering if I should just go throw it all up so that I will feel better. But worse since throwing up is a phobia of mine. Knowing full well I will do the same thing again, maybe later today with lunch, or dinner, or my evening snack.  Or maybe tomorrow with more cocoa pebbles. What’s wrong with  me? Why do I do this?

I’m feeling tired, it’s only 9:48am but I think it’s time to lay on the couch, and maybe some of this food will settle and I won’t feel like the girl that turned into a blueberry on Charlie and the Chocolate factory in a little while.

So for now, I leave you with this question- is me cutting my arms with my fingernails and keys, the same as filling my stomach so full I am in physical, emotional and psychological pain or is it different?   Isn’t the intent the same? So why is one more “acceptable?

The Wisdom of a 6-year old and other stuff on my mind….

On the way to where we were headed tonight little one was disappointed that her playdate got cancelled tomorrow, and she told me:

“Mama, the bad memories and thoughts make a potion in my head that tries to take away the good thoughts and memories”.  The insight that child has amazes me. She understands her brain in a way that I don’t even understand mine.  I told her that my brain does that too, and big one said his does too.  I told her, Little One I think everyone’s brain does that.

She also has this theory that she has “black holes” in her brain, these black holes are all different some of them make her not listen, some make her mad, some make her do naughty things.  This makes sense to me, it’s like the little voices in all of our heads that tell us what to do and what not to do.

She has come up with all these things herself.  It amazes me.  I hope this is a sign that she will be more mentally healthy than I am.

I have had a hard day.  I had an extra medication appointment today to try to figure out what I can take to help me sleep at night.  We talked about my self harm, and my OCD.  She feels my OCD is much worse than it was when we first started meeting, but she sees a difference in my depression and anxiety. I think in general she’s right- although the past couple days my anxiety has been really high. But my OCD is definitely worse. And both her and my counselor asked me today if I try to go against my obsessions or compulsions and I basically said no.  I let it run my life.  Which is partially true- like Sunday I was obsessing over cutting, and I didn’t do it all day, but I thought about it, and obsessed over it, and even overnight was still thinking about it, and ended up doing it Monday morning.  I scratched today too.

The ironic thing, the keys I use to cut up my arms are the ones that go to the house we had foreclosed on us.  There is probably some psychological reason for that… plus they are nice and sharp.  Hubby and Dr are worried that I am going to up the ante- since it used to just be my fingernails and now it’s keys…. they are afraid it will go to blades.  And I can’t promise that it won’t.  I try to make the key injuries worse by putting hand sanitizer on them to make them burn more, or I get them wet because that makes it worse.  Dr wanted to know if I am cleaning them good, and I said no.  She’s trying to make sure that they won’t get infected since I am breaking the skin, and I answered her honestly.  No.  I only wash them when I shower.  She told me how important it was to keep it clean so it won’t get infected, but if I am honest with myself I kind of want it to be infected.  I want it to hurt.  I love the hurt. I love the pain.  It’s a distraction. It’s a punishment I can inflict on myself before anyone else can hurt me.

I am reading this as I am typing it, and I wonder if those of you reading this think I have lost my mind, or if some of you have gone through the same thing or at least understand.  Hubby does not understand I know that much.  Thankfully, he doesn’t get angry with me, though we talked today about why it bothers him so much that I do it and he said he wouldn’t let anyone else hurt me, he doesn’t want to let me do it.

Part of my problem today, was something from my timehop.

This popped up from 3 years ago today:

The picture on the right, was not taken that night, but that was the dress I was wearing.  When I fit into that dress, I felt pretty, for the first time in my life.  I wasn’t happy, I wasn’t at that magic number I thought I needed to be at, but I did feel pretty. People noticed me. And when I read that timehop today my heart broke into a million pieces.  For a very short time my husband was able to have a woman on his arm that he could be proud of for her looks, yes, it’s superficial but it’s the first impression.  I texted him this morning that, he deserved the prom queen, not her crazy, fat, grandmother.  He was a little confused by the grandmother  comment but I guess it’s because I look at this picture and a picture of myself and I feel like I have aged a decade instead of 3 years.

My husband has loved me when I was 118 when we met at ages 16 and 17, when I was 260 after having each of our babies at 235 when I started the journey, when I was 180, 170, 160, and at my adult lowest of 147, but he deserves so much more.  He is athletic, he’s thin, he’s attractive and even at 38 years old turns heads. I’m not blind.  I’m pretty sure people wonder why he’s with someone like me.  Recently I asked him if he would still love me if I were 600lbs and he said yes of course but he couldn’t promise he would still find me sexy/attractive.  And this morning I put him on the spot and said, and tell me, are you still as attracted to me as you were that night (the one in the timehop), and he looked at me, I could see his mind moving- do I tell her yes, knowing she knows I’m lying, or do I admi the truth and say no and hurt her feelings.  So let him off the hook, I said you don’t have to answer I know the truth is no so you don’t have to answer the trick question.

I hate the way I look, how can I expect him to like the way I look? Who honestly could be attracted to a woman who has rolls on her rolls, her arms are as big as some people’s thighs? And add to that my mental health issues, I don’t know why he stays here with me.  He puts up with my mood swings, my hating of myself, my self harm, the extra he has had to pick up at home with my depression, anxiety and OCD.  And he doesn’t feel good either, between his fibromyalgia and his disk herniation it’s not fair of me to ask him to pick up the slack.  I should be doing these things.

I don’t deserve him.  I don’t deserve anything.  I told my counselor today that I don’t deserve my friends that have been so good to me.  Im not sure why I don’t feel like I dont deserve anything but that’s how I feel.  Today is not a good day. Not at all.

 

My 3 Songs… and an epiphany I had on Friday….

Lately there are 3 songs that I have had on pretty much constant repeat. They are all Christian songs that speak so much to my situation right now.  The bold and italicized are all mine…. it’s the parts that get to me the most.

This first one is my prayer

Need You Now
Well, everybody’s got a story to tell
And everybody’s got a wound to be healed
I want to believe there’s beauty here
‘Cause oh, I get so tired of holding on
I can’t let go, I can’t move on
I want to believe there’s meaning here
How many times have you heard me cry out
“God please take this“?
How many times have you given me strength to
Just keep breathing?
Oh I need you
God, I need you now.
Standing on a road I didn’t plan
Wondering how I got to where I am
I’m trying to hear that still small voice
I’m trying to hear above the noise
How many times have you heard me cry out
God please take this?
How many times have you given me strength to
Just keep breathing?
Oh I need you
God, I need you now.
Though I walk,
Though I walk through the shadows
And I, I am so afraid
Please stay, please stay right beside me
With every single step I take
How many times have you heard me cry out?
And how many times have you given me strength?
How many times have you heard me cry out
“God please take this”?
How many times have you given me strength to
Just keep breathing?
Oh I need you
God, I need you now.
I need you now
Oh I need you
God, I need you now.
I need you now
I need you now
Songwriters: Christina Wells / Luke Sheets / Tiffany Lee
Need You Now lyrics © DO Write Music LLC, Mike Curb Music
 The next one is
I Have This Hope
As I walk this great unknown
Questions come and questions go
Was there purpose for the pain?
Did I cry these tears in vain?
I don’t want to live in fear
I want to trust that You are near
Trust Your grace can be seen
In both triumph and tragedy
I have this hope
In the depth of my soul
In the flood or the fire
You’re with me and You won’t let go
But sometimes my faith feels thin
Like the night will never end
Will You catch every tear
Or will You just leave me here?
But I have this hope
In the depth of my soul
In the flood or the fire
You’re with me and You won’t let go
So, whatever happens I will not be afraid
Cause You are closer than this breath that I take
You calm the storm when I hear You call my name
I still believe that one day I’ll see Your face
And I have this hope
In the depth of my soul
In the flood or the fire
You’re with me
I have this hope
In the depth of my soul
In the flood or the fire
You’re with me and You won’t let go
In the flood or the fire
You’re with me and You won’t let go
And the 3rd one is my favorite right now, it encapsulates how much of how I feel. I almost want to highlight and italicize the entire song.  So much of it holds true for me right now.  I won’t bold or italicize anything because it’s all just so relevant.
Even If
They say sometimes you win some
Sometimes you lose some
And right now, right now I’m losing bad
I’ve stood on this stage night after night
Reminding the broken it’ll be alright
But right now, oh right now I just can’t
It’s easy to sing
When there’s nothing to bring me down
But what will I say
When I’m held to the flame
Like I am right now
I know You’re able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone
They say it only takes a little faith
To move a mountain
Well good thing
A little faith is all I have, right now
But God, when You choose
To leave mountains unmovable
Oh give me the strength to be able to sing
It is well with my soul
I know You’re able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone
I know the sorrow, and I know the hurt
Would all go away if You’d just say the word
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone
You’ve been faithful, You’ve been good
All of my days
Jesus, I will cling to You
Come what may
‘Cause I know You’re able
I know You can
I know You’re able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone
I know the sorrow, I know the hurt
Would all go away if You’d just say the word
But even if You don’t
My hope is You alone
It is well with my soul
It is well, it is well with my soul
As for my epiphany- I was driving to co op, listening to these songs, and wondering why God wont take all this from me.  Why is He letter me suffer? Why won’t He just take me out of the situation like He has for so many others.  I was driving up to the top of a hill, near a Christmas tree farm, there is a beautiful overlook and the view was breathtaking. And I “heard” clear as day- not as a voice but just as something I suddenly knew- He is not going to take me out of this situation.  He is not going to take the pain away.  I have to relive every last bit of the pain, all the memories, deal with all my baggage, because if I don’t I will never be free from the past, it will always have power over me. I will never be whole.  I have to feel it all, cry every tear, and suffer through this for however long it takes.  But He is beside me this time,  and I need to remember that. I need to stop trying to run ahead. I need to go at His pace.
Maybe it all sounds corny to you, but I just honestly feel like I know that He’s not going to save me from this, I am going to have to get through this, survive and be free. I just hope He’s right and I am strong enough….