I have so much to write about...many blessings and adventures we have faced lately.
Yet, as you can see there has been little...or nothing.
Not sure what the trigger is, or if it's a series of mini triggers along the way, but to state is gracefully, life is just hard. Life is a lovely thing to look upon; the lands, the seasons, the stars in their glories. It is a lovely thing to look back upon; the trials and destinations, the growth, the beautiful memories of little babes in their newness becoming young adults with full agency and mind capacity. Then there's the ever truthful statement, and nothing can sugar coat it, it is a hard thing to live. Perspective changes the way we feel about day to day mishaps, and monthly what ifs when the budget doesn't work out over and again, the cars need new parts, and the doctors bills keep piling up.
What happened when you can't change the ever dreadful and ugly perspective of self doubt and anger...the ugly monster of self criticism.
I think I know the solution...and it would do me and YOU well. A therapist, a best friend (who works as a therapist in pure confidence) who be a great perspective changer, an outlet for everything that no one really understands.
Here's the problem:
A therapist is not making it's way into our monthly budget when we supplement our milk jugs with powdered milk weekly.
And...sadly...best friends talk, it is true. I understand why, mostly they want to help and think they know how, but when a secret is shared with three people it is no secret at all.
So, I have resorted to holding in trivial issues that I know I'm capable of overcoming inside of this every cycling mind. It is not healthy, but on occasion, a little tid bit here is released, and a little tid bit there comes to light. I stated tonight that there is no way for anyone to truly understand me. No one can travel into the depths of my mind and heart to say, "Ah ha, that's why every time I say this....she does that...." I can try to state the rational reasons, but it comes upon inexperienced ears. That is the critical reason why the Savior suffered ALL things, so he could KNOW ALL things. I would sound like a lunatic if I told the world that in the first month of my baby's death, I thought often of digging his grave up bare hands and all to take care of HIM...because it is my job. Yet, when I have said that to a grieving mother, she nods her head in understanding, tears stream down her cheeks, and we just embrace. You see, I KNOW that my savior hears all the little things that cause my pain, I know he feels them....I just want to FEEL that embrace in my darkest moments to have hope that ALL things can be overcome. Sadly, tonight I expressed my belief in His true existence...I was a doubting Thomas, and I am ashamed of that.
My therapy has been to sit back and look at God's creations. I don't like images of me, because I am disappointed in me. I adore images of my babes...and i will update more of them. I adore catching glimpses of my husband with my children....just having fun. And lately, I just LOVE the land I live upon. I don't walk it enough. But I see it, and I love it.
I love the refuge is the temple we are given. I had the opportunity to go to a musical with my mother and sisters recently. Our schedules, as always, were too full. Steve had made important obligations, and for almost a week the answer was NO, I can't go. The ticket was left open to no takers by the time Thursday morning rolled around...and Thursday afternoon was the musical. I decided to ask my husband one last time, and at 1pm he said that his appointments had just cancelled and he wanted me to go and have fun...and be happy. I announced the excitement in text to my three girls with no immediate response. Turned out, the ticket had just been taken by my niece. As trivial as it was, I cried and wondered why? Why, when I found a way to make it a reality to go to the musical...a once every few year event, were the odds against me from the start? Why was I allowed to feel pure excitement and questions as to how I would dress and how much I would laugh, because I don't laugh often enough lately...I do cry over how hard young motherhood is though. And then why did I feel the sting of discouragement after getting my hopes to cloud nine? My immediate response was to say, I will never commit to try to find a way again if I have to feel this kind of sorrow ever again, its not worth the tears and pain. Yep, sounds trivial. But if you understood what my Mom and sisters have faced in the last 5 months, you would understand the heartache.
My husband encouraged me to go tot the temple alone that evening instead.
I went...and all my sadness dissipated.
So another answer to feeling on cloud nine, or at least above ground zero, it temple attendance. Let's hope I can go in a few more weeks when we can put gas in the vehicle again. As for now, I will fight the self doubt feelings and pray for glimpses of hope to carry me through.
The good thing? Tomorrow is another home school day. Lately, those are my favorite days. I love my children and the simple teaching methods we have chosen.
To a day full of smiles, rest, some heartaches and tears....
Much like your days have been before...
Aurevoir.
I need to STOP my thoughts of self despair. I've heard some call them selfish at times.
I'm here to tell you otherwise.
They are cries for help from a wounded soul. That is is. They should be embraced with a hug and a kiss and the word, "You are royal" even when the ugliest things escape the mouth of the person calling themselves so much more than royal (that would be me these days). Once that is done..Repeat.
Repeat.
Repeat again.
Only true love can change a person.
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