New relationships are like flowers looking for the sun. Whether it is friendships or romantic relationships, you are both trying to find your way. New relationships are always exciting, but to me, they are scary as well. I’m always trying to be the best person, but always wondering how to do that. How to navigate the other person’s feelings with my own insecurities. New relationships make me feel extremely vulnerable, and vulnerable is not a state I like to be in. It means there is something I cannot control. If you know me, you know control is my number one thing. I have to be in control or at least pretend that I’m in control. Knowing that you cannot control someoneelse’s feelings, actions is one of the times I feel most out of control. It’s so hard to trust. So hard not to push to hard, but to make the effort. As an addicted overthinker, I question everything. Every word said, every message not answered, every word left unsaid, the whole thing, but with that being said, I throw my entire soul into that new relationship. I often wonder if I give too much too soon. I feel like I usually do because I tend to be an all or nothing type of person, yet I don’t know how to be any different. I haven’t learned the art of just letting things “be”. I am either all in, or not in at all. How do you change that behavior all these years later? And what led up that feeling? Have I always been this way or is it a learned behavior? Does it go along with anxiety, or is this a normal state of being for everyone? Does everyone navigate new relationships like this? I know that nervousness is common, but does it go to the extremes of mine? I am a wallflower. I like to go unnoticed these das,, which is so totally different than I used to be, but when I look back, I feel like I’ve always been a wallflower, but I was able to push that aside because I needed to be liked by everyone. As I’ve gotten older, I still have the desire, mindset, but I sometimes do not have the mental capability of pushing that fear aside and moving forward. I have a hard time in places/situations where I don’t know anyone. I think I hide it pretty well, but on the inside, I am an absolute wreck! How do you manage those feelings in new relationships? How do you allow them to grow when you are afraid? Friendships are so hard to maintain as adults. Between children, school, sporting events, life, it’s hard to be the “friend” you were in high school or college with pretty much no responsibilities. My best friend(cousin) lives 20 minutes from me and I hardly ever see her, but that relationship has been nurtured for so long, we don’t have to see each other to pick up right where we left off when we do get to see each other. We do get to speak on the phone sometimes and it feels natural. With new relationships, it doesn’t seem to be as easy. I’m always worried about bothering the person, catching them at a bad time, maybe they don’t want to actually talk to me, do they mean it when they say they like me, am I being a nuisance, nice little look inside how my brain works. I know that all relationships we have are important. Whether it be family relationships, friendships, romantic relationships and we learn something from each relationship we have. Even the ones that don’t work out, we find out something different about ourselves, something important to carry into the next relationship. At least I know I have. I have learned things that turn out to be flaws I didn’t realize I had and was able to work on. I have found out that people aren’t always who they portray themselves to be. Everyone is not your friend. I’m kind of an oxymoron, I have trust issues, but I trust super easy. There is a wall around my heart, but I tend to lead with it. It’s a blessing and a curse. At some point, I’m hoping it will pay off, until then, I will try to navigate these new relationships toward the sun.

Today’s weather is not good, which means my anxiety is not good. I don’t do well in situations I can’t control, and weather is definitely something out of my control. This is one of those times where I turn my worries over to God, but then take them back. I worry and worry and worry and almost make myself sick. My fear of bad weather dates back to my childhood, since before I can remember. I do remember living in Texas and spending many days/nights in either a bathtub covered up with a twin mattress or in the hallway covered up with a mattress. If you ask my mom and dad, they will tell you my fear of weather came when I was about 4-5. I had watched the Wizard of Oz for the first time. That night, as I was going to sleep, I had the radio on. If you remember from earlier posts, you will remember that I hated steeping alone in my room, that I was terrified. One of the compromises we made was that I could sleep with the lights and the radio on. That particular night, I watched the Wizard of OZ, and as I was lying in bed, a “tornado watch” came of the radio. I didn’t know the difference between a tornado watch and a tornado warning at that age, all I knew was that I did notwant to be taken away to another land by a tornado. That instilled in me an unrealistic fear of tornados, but a terrible fear anyway. That night set the stage for how I spent the rest of my life dealing with bad weather. I face it irrationally, which is strange because I realize it is irrational, but cannot figure out how to reconcile that to my anxiety. Since I didn’t realize I had anxiety up until a few years ago, I had no idea that was what was fueling my fear. I remember 2 extremely specific instances in my semi-adult life that I now know I was having panic attacks. The first was in college, don’t fuss mom, and Hurricane Opal was coming through. My stomach started feeling super uneasy, I couldn’t sit still, my thoughts were racing,and I couldn’t calm down, couldn’t contain my nerves. I went to a friend’s house in the neighborhood, and I was manic, I know that now, I didn’t know that then. They thought the best way to deal with me was to give me alcohol (remember college). I never had any alcohol until college, so I couldn’t “handle my alcohol” as they say. I thought they were just giving me orange juice to be honest, but obviously it wasn’t. Anyway, this did not help my anxiety, it actually made it worse, not only was the weather out of control, but I felt out of control and that is not a good feeling for me. As we were sitting on the patio, the tin roof peeled back off the porch and they decided it was time to leave. As we all piled up in the truck to go to a safe place, a tree fell right in front of us, almost on us. I was crying, terrified, no idea what to do, completely out of control in my emotions. We went to our safe place, I of course became tired and went to sleep and woke up in a strange place, surrounded by strange people and my friends had left me behind. I learned a valuable lesson about “friends” and “friendship” that day. It wasn’t a good lesson to learn, but it is what it is. That did not help my lack of love of weather. Flash forward to 2003. I was working in Montgomery but lived in Auburn. They had been forecasting bad weather starting around 5:00. I got off at 5:00 and always made the hour drive back home to Auburn. My then husband was very insistent that I come home at lunch. I was stubborn, I didn’t want to leave work, stupid work ethic, and I got stuck in the worst storm ever. It was hail the size of baseballs coming down on me on the interstate. I was watching back windows being shattered right in front of me. Lightening striking the ground in front of me, tornado warnings being issued for the area I am traveling in. I pulled off the road into gas station, there was water up to my knees in the parking lot. They had the doors locked. I had to beg them to open the door, I was crying, I couldn’t breathe, thankfully they let me in. I spent about an hour in that convenience store trying to calm down and wait for the weather to pass before continuing my drive home. I cannot explain the fear that I felt. I’ve gotten a little better over the years at managing that fear and learning to let go a little bit. I’m not near as anal about safe places and hiding myself in the closet for hours on end. I’m not over my fear my any means, but I am learning to deal with it better. I hope that my experiences with help other people know that yes, it may be out of your control, but it’s not out of God’s control. I hope that no one else feels like this about anything, because it is a terrifying experience. I’m happy to offer any support that I can, please just reach out. As we’re coming out of the dark together, we can help each other.

I’ve recently gotten back into reading. I didn’t realize how much I missed it. When I was little, younger, teenager, even college, I used it as an escape. For 300-400 pages, I got to live someone else’s life. I got to become someone that I wasn’t. I was able to live out my dreams through their dreams. I was transported back in time, I found the love of my life many times, I was Scottish, Irish, British, French, Royalty, a Servant, I was not me. Not being me was something that I always wanted. I didn’t like me. I didn’t like me on the outside or the inside. In my books, I got to lose myself and become someone else. Someone that everybody wanted to be friends with, someone that guys wanted to date/marry, someone that was fought for, someone other than who I am. I am starting to embrace who I am, and the events in my life that led me to become this person. As I’m sort of coming to an acceptance of the person that I am, I am realizing that I am becoming happier. I am more open to possibilities. I am excited for the day, as opposed to just existing through it. I feel like I am becoming a better mom, daughter, sister, aunt, friend. Not perfect, but definitely getting better. I never realized how unhappy I was until I got to this point in my life. If you had told me that on July 2, 2021 I was going to be laid off and then become happier, I would have laughed at you. What was one of the worst experiences of my life, turned into a blessing. Isn’t that usually what happens? Something terrible things happens, we’re in the valley, in the cave trying to claw our way out and then when we make it to the hilltop and look down….. we realize if we hadn’t been in that specific valley, we wouldn’t be where we are. So many times in my life I have felt that God has left me. I have been so discouraged and my faith has wavered. I have questioned His love for me. For my family. Life is full of valleys, hilltops and eventually mountains. Does everybody question their faith at some point in their lives? I know quite a few who never did, or never let on that they did. My granddaddy was a preacher for part of his life. Oh how I wish I could have heard him preach! I know that they had really hard time, but they were so giving, so loving, always lending a hand. Granny always took care of people. I remember being told a situation where they took in a young family whose dad was learning to preach and they didn’t have anywhere to stay, so of course Granny and Granddaddy opened their home to them, a family in need. Granny and Granddaddy are my standard for Godliness and faith. It wasn’t flaunted, it didn’t judge, it was pure. It wasn’t necessarily talked about, but you could see it because they lived it. I wonder if in those hard time, did they ever question their faith? Was there ever a situation where they felt alone? Especially Granddaddy. When he went to his dark cave, did he wonder where God was? Or did he just get out his Bible and read? Recall scriptures from years past? Did Granny question it when he was in the dark cave and she was left outside; or did she go into the dark cave with him? They were married almost 60 years before she passed away. They were 2 months shy of that anniversary. I would give anything to have one more conversation with them and ask the questions that matter. To find out how to cope, how to live a good and faithful life despite what’s going on inside your head. Would they have any answers for me? I’m not sure. I want to be my Granny when I grow up. I want to be someone that people look back on and talk about how great she was. My Granny was the standard. My Mama and Aunt come in as close second’s to her, but none have fully lived up to her. Even though there were terrible things, they were always the light for me. Walking the pasture with Granddaddy, fishing at the pond sitting on a five-gallon bucket. Feeing the cows, feeding the fish. Cooking in the kitchen with Granny, helping her plant flowers, working in the garden. And always staying in touch with her siblings. We were all so blessed to have such an extended family that stayed close. I found my best friend in my family. I have so many role models that I can look to and gain knowledge from. So many people don’t have that opportunity. Life has certainly changed with time and since most of the Sister’s have passed on. We all see each other less frequently, but the memories are still there. What a blessing it is that we have memories.

Anyone else suffer from “mom-guilt”? I have missed a couple of The Boy’s baseball games this year and specifically the ones where he pitched. I missed his very first pitching start, which absolutely broke my heart, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even know I wasn’t there. I still have this enormous feeling of guilt and failure for not being there. I know that working a full-time job will prevent several games a year, but I have never missed a game until high school. He’s played since he was 4 and I’ve always made it to everything. Which brings me back to “mom-guilt”. Does every mom feel it in some way or another? Does anyone else just hold on to it and store it away? Remembering it frequently and feeling like you have failed in some way? I feel that way. I feel that if I’m not there for every single thing, I have failed him. Is it feasible to even think I could make every single event? I honestly know that it’s not, especially as a single mom working full-time, but that is my burden to bear. The burden of failure and “mom-guilt”. I feel guilt about a lot of things. Most of them aren’t even about me and have no direct correlation on me, but I still feel it. I feel guilt over my divorce, I feel guilt for not finishing college, I feel guilt for having a miscarriage, I feel guilt for The Boy being an only child. So many things, most of them out of my control, that take up space in a box in my head. It seems to stay close to the front lots of times. And then I wonder, are guilt and regret the same thing? They seem to be similar, for sure. I have lots of regrets in my life. If I think about it too long it makes me sick to my stomach, so I try to keep it buried. Regret is one of those things that can bring you to your knees. It doesn’t do any good to dwell on it, but sometimes, you can’t help but have it playing on a reel in your head. Is regret and guilt the same thing? Do those two things go hand in hand? Are they the unforgivable sins we have that we can’t change? The ones that haunt our dreams. The ones that we want so badly to forget but can’t. How about the things we regret because it could have changed a situation? Telling someone you loved them before they left/died. Telling a friend how much they mean to you. Why is it, that we can stand in a church for a funeral and speak such wonderful things about someone, but we have a hard time telling them while they are here? Is it because we think we will be embarrassed? Or that we won’t get the reaction we want? Or that person will think we’re crazy? I really wish we would tell each other how we felt. Stop with the games, the mind games, the walking around with a heartful of love and not giving it. What a difference it would be if we were able to freely give what we have. To say what needs to be said, instead of regretting not saying it. Mend those relationships. It is so hard to know the right thing to do. To speak our mind, our love, our distaste, our anger, whatever feelings we have. The world has told us that keeping quiet is better. Don’t cause a scene, stay silent, be a good girl/boy. Stand up for what is right, but don’t make waves. Keep your opinions to yourself, don’t talk religion, don’t talk politics. When did it come to this? When did we turn into a people who can’t understand someone else’s point of view even if it isn’t ours? Why has everything turned into an argument instead of a discussion? I guess we can’t talk about that. It all goes back to love and kindness. Those verbs used to be the cornerstone of life. Show love, show kindness. Now they are both very scarce. I wonder if that is why regret and guilt has come so heavily into play? All the “what-ifs” in our life? I know that I cannot change the past. That I cannot change even an hour ago, so why do I dwell on it so much? Why do other people’s opinions matter so much? I know who I am. I know what I bring to every relationship I have. I bring love and nurturing. There are a couple 16-year-old girls that come to Carter’s games,and they call me “bestie and baseball mom”. That’s who I am. I take care of people. I have a hard time letting others take care of me, even though I really want that. It all circles back around to guilt and regret. The same, but different.

As I sit here at my desk, alone with just the dogs, I can’t help but wonder if this is how I will spend the rest of my days. Will it always be this way? I certainly hope not, but I think I’m beginning to get to a place where I will be ok if it is. There are things that I miss about having a companion, and there are things I don’t miss. I have always thought of “couple hood” as a fairytale. I even had a fairytale theme for my wedding and look how well that turned out. I of all people know how hard it is in marriage, that it is most definitely not a fairy tale, but that is what I want. Not necessarily the knight in shining armor, I can save myself and have many times over, but someone who thinks I hung the moon would be nice. Someone who made it a point to let me know all the time I was thought about, I was loved, I was xyz. You get the idea. Little reminders. Why is it that those things from other people mean more to us than when we tell ourselves them? And when they do tell us, do we actually believe them or do we brush it off as they’re just being nice. 95% of the time I lead toward the, they’re just being nice. I sometimes wonder what made me that way. What event happened that made me feel like I wasn’t worthy of compliments, worthy of love. Was it some big event I don’t remember, or a bunch of little ones? And I am constantly apologizing. Even for things I have no reason to apologize for. It’s annoying. Not just to me, but to other people. What causes us to constantly apologize? Is it the people pleasing complex we have? The idea that if we keep everyone happy and avoid conflict, we will then be happy? And possibly miss out on the disappointment that inevitably comes. What about the trust you put in people you love, only to be disappointed time and time again because their love isn’t the same as yours? How do we make people love us? Is there a secret that I don’t know about? Is there some magic spell that I need to read? How is it that some people seem to have everything they want, yet it still isn’t enough? The world is a scary place. Everyday, you hear of terrible things happening to people. The war in Ukraine, the children’s hospital being bombed, the families fleeing, praying to get away, I bet they don’t feel love. How do we, as a people, show love to those around us? If we show love to everyone, wouldn’t that in turn make kindness flow like a fountain? How do we show people in times of war that we support the innocent? The ones who have no say in what is happening, but that are being affected the most? The families who are being separated by death and space and war. How scared the children must be. If we can get reporters in, why can’t we get families out? At least the children. Don’t the deserve a chance to live? To go to school, to have a school crush, attend a dance, fall in love at least once. I am so heartbroken over the thought of it. I am also heartbroken over the state of our own country’s children. Too many with no one to love them, to take care of them, left to fend for themselves on the street. How did we get here? How did it turn into this? Does anyone know how to stop it? Is it part of the plan that God has set out for us? Or are we failing him somehow? I go back to what is it that actually makes us feel “loved’? I’m still trying to figure it out. I wish I knew. I thought it might be The Boy, but I feel like I love him way more than he loves me and that is probably true because mothers were born to love their babies. I am a nurturer. I want to take care of people. Everybody, no one somebody in particular. Is everyone looking for their fairy tale? Does it look the same to everyone? I’m not sure. I’m not even sure what my fairy tale looks like anymore. I thought I did, but it blew up, so I’m not sure anymore. I know that life was meant to be lived and I have not been living. I have been limiting myself to my dark cave. The one that the light barely makes it into. I am crawling into the light. I want to be in the light. I’m still learning how. I’m still learning that there are all kinds of love in this world and none of it is lesser than the other. It is all equal. We just have to stop criticizing ourselves and open ourselves up to it. A quote was shared with me that says “I hate thinking okay let me show less love, let me not care so much. I hate that feeling. I should never have to feel that way. My purest form is loving hard, and caring hard, and nurturing hard and those are not negatives.” It’s true, there is nothing wrong with being compassionate and loving and nurturing and kind. I think we need more of those people. Show kindness to someone today, they probably need it.

In trying to normalize mental health, should we tell people we come into contact with that we suffer? Whether it be a new friendship, a person that you’re dating, an old friend. If we do tell people, these specific people, has society changed enough for us to not be embarrassed? For the other party not to think we’re “crazy” or have a few loose screws? And to that, I ask, is it really their business or when should it become their business? At what point do we have to bear our souls to someone? Are we being dishonest if we don’t tell them immediately? I know that society likes to think they have “normalized” mental health. I also know that is not true. It has been my experience that sometimes, it automatically taints someone’s view of who you are. Once they hear those words, depression, anxiety, bi-polar, schizophrenia, and the numerous other mental health conditions out there, they immediately disconnect. They make assumptions about who that person is. They determine in their minds that the person cannot carry on a “normal” life. They are nothing but drama. I disagree. I think someone that suffers has less drama than anyone else. They are so much in their head that any possible scenario has already been thought of, and I guarantee you it is the worst-case scenario. There are times in my life, where I have no trouble expressing my feelings. Usually with those I trust the most, which honestly isn’t that many. I am not good with criticism. I take it as a personal attack even if it isn’t meant to be. I shut down. Once I’ve shut down, I have a hard time trusting/opening up to that person again. That is why my circle stays so small, sometimes non-existent. That is why I keep to myself a lot of the time. If I’m by myself, I can’t mess up, I can’t be criticized. I have no illusions that I’m perfect, the absolute opposite, but I don’t like to be reminded of it by anyone. I don’t want someone pointing out my mistakes just to get back at me. Which again begs the question, at what point do you share your struggle with a new person in your life? If you share and they leave, are you better off without them? If you keep it to yourself a while, does that make you a bad person? A person who wants someone to get to know you, not your disease. Wouldn’t it be the same as putting your best foot forward? How do we move forward with normalizing mental health for relationships? I wish I had the answer. I have tried multiple things, letting people know up front and they decide they don’t want the relationship, friendship, whatever it may be and cut ties, but I’ve also had a few who were compassionate and stayed. So I guess my question is, if we leave this part of ourselves out of the conversation for awhile is that ok? Do we have to share every, single detail of our lives with the people that we meet and want to have friendships/relationships with? Do we expect them to share every detail of their lives up front? I think it’s part of the getting to know each other part, but at what point does it belong in the conversation? After you’ve built some sort of relationship and they see that you are normal? Is that when you have the conversation? Do you have to have the conversation? Is it anyone’s business but our own? Do we get to decide who knows the innermost pieces of our souls, our hearts? What if it’s looked upon negatively and ruins the relationship? Does that mean that person isn’t meant to be in your life? It feels like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. It’s supposed to be normal now, yet there is still such a stigma attached to it. I guess the best answer is to keep talking about it. Educating people on it and reminding them that there is nothing wrong with you!

I’ve been thinking a lot about myself lately. Not in an obnoxious way, but in a discovering myself way. As I’ve started this blog, I’ve learned a lot of things about myself that I guess I had hidden or locked away. When I was in high school, I remember being bubbly, funny, nurturing, fun! Somewhere along the way, I lost sight
of that. Lost sight of who I was. The depression and anxiety were there, but I didn’t know what it was. It didn’t seem to affect my life too much. I do remember getting terrible headaches after an event. Like the end of the football game, the end of the softball game. I now know that was my anxiety. As I got older, I think I tried to deny that part of myself. When I went to Auburn, I just wanted to fit in. I never thought I was pretty, every, so I would do things that I thought would make me “pretty”. Clothes, hair, shoes, that type of stuff. None of it really made me feel better about myself, but I thought it might help me fit in. I’ve never felt like I fit in with anyone. I’ve always felt like I was on the outside looking in. I’m not sure why I felt that way. I will probably never know, but I still feel that way. I am trying to tell myself that there is nothing wrong with me, that I do fit in, I am normal. I have stepped out of my comfort zone to try online dating. I am using Facebook dating because it’s free, but you have to describe yourself and make a profile. It was so hard for me to describe myself. Who am I? What am I? What sets me apart? Let me just say that it was very hard. I probably won’t use it long because I get fed up with the craziness of it and delete it. But I mention that because I’m terrible at talking about myself. How do I describe me? I have no idea. I through some stuff in there, but it really got me thinking about who I am and who I want to be. I want to be someone that you can call when you have an emergency. I want to be someone who is kind to everyone. I want to be a hard and ethical employee. I want to be the best mom that I can, balancing discipline with relationship. I want to be someone who can talk to anyone. I have gotten much better this baseball season. I have ventured out and talked to people and it’s not as bad I thought. It still makes me anxious, but it is so nice to walk into the stadium or field and have everyone tell you hello or smile at you. I am a work in progress. I say that all the time, and now, I’m finally starting to make some progress. I wonder if everyone feels like they don’t fit in at some point in their lives. If they feel like they are on the outside in? As I start putting stuff down, I am learning more and more about myself. I’m learning what little things made me react the way I do, what happened that caused that reaction. It’s actually quite helpful. Life is so hard, and we shouldn’t be so hard on ourselves. God made each of us different, but in His image. I hope that one day, I will look at myself and see what He sees. What other’s see. Wouldn’t be nice if we could “preview” ourselves from another’s point of view? I see so many good qualities in so many people, but they don’t’ see it. I have so many people that I look up to. That I aspire to be like. Most of them are family members, but they are strong and courageous women. They have been through Hell and back, but they are still smiling and living their lives. What’s their secret? I would love to know. I can’t help but focus on the negative. I get it in my head, and it won’t go away. I want to be like my aunts. I want to be a Woman that the younger generation will look at and say she was a strong woman. She handled everything that was thrown at her with grace, with compassion for others, with a firm but gentle hand. That I was there when I was needed. Do you ever wonder what people will say about you at your funeral? I think about that. I think about would anybody show up. Would anyone even notice. These are the thoughts I’m trying to get rid of. Not just pushing them out of the box but pushing them out forever. I have a planner where everyday of the week I have written a positive affirmation about myself. I keep it on my desk so that I can see it. I hope that people see some of my Granny in me. I hope that I have inherited all the wonderful qualities that are floating around in my family. I hope that I will be at least half the woman that these women are. I hope that I can be as calm as my mom. She never raises her voice, she hardly ever gets angry, and she is always there. Maybe one day, I can live up to those that have gone before me.

Saturday was a good day. The Boy had a double-header, and it was beautiful outside. I sat with some of the other parents and had a really good time. I stepped out of my comfort zone. I was able to talk to one mom a lot and one that took some amazing photos. I was able to learn the boys and start to memorize their numbers. It was so nice to cheer for them by name. To be recognized by other parents. It was the affirmation I needed. I am slowing starting to connect again. Connecting is hard, but totally worth it. I didn’t realize how much I missed talking to and conversating with people. They all cheered for The Boy with me and it was so awesome for all of us to come together and cheer on our boys. We won both games by the way. I know that a lot of my past blogs have been kind of dark, or really dark, but I am in a good place right now Iam stepping out of my comfort zone some. The purpose of me writing this is for my own healing, but also to help normalize depression and anxiety. So many people are ashamed that they have it. I see you. You are not alone, and you have nothing to be ashamed of. I know it’s hard, so very hard. I want this to be a safe space. A place where hopefully I can help other people. I mostly just want you to know that just because you suffer from this disease, doesn’t make you less than anyone or anything. There will be good days and bad days. Sometimes more bad days than good. I try to remember that. It is hard, very hard. It’s so easy to stay in the dark, but the light is so much fun. I can’t explain how happy Saturday made me. I felt like my old self. Like I was normal again. Not to say that I’m not “normal” every day, just some days I don’t feel normal. I think the more that I force myself out of my comfort zone the easier it will become. Happiness is a state of mind, and sometimes it is extremely hard to find that balance and open that box in your mind. Once that darkness takes over, it is so very hard to come to the light, but maybe, if we try really hard, we can reach the light, even if we fake it. I hope that as this baseball season goes on, I will become more comfortable at each game. I will speak to people first instead of waiting for them to speak to me. I will be light. I know that I can be, I know that I can radiate light when I am in this happy place. I need to learn how to stay in the happy place. I am working on it. I am a work in progress, that’s what I tell myself and others as well. I am a great person and a kind person, but on days that I’m not able to step out of the dark, I don’t come off that way. I saw a quote that said, “I allow myself to feel all of my emotions as part of my healing” and that really spoke to me. It is important that you feel your feelings. When I started writing this blog, there were things that I discovered I had never noticed before. Feelings that I didn’t even know I had. Isn’t it crazy how sometimes we don’t’ even know what we are feeling? This has helped me so much in recognizing myself, learning myself, reminding myself that it’s ok to not be ok. And that I am a normal person who struggles. It is my hope that as I continue to write this, continue to learn who I am, that I will continue to work on loving myself. I’ve never loved myself before, but I am starting to. I am starting to realize my good qualities, the things that set me apart, the things that remind me I am good enough, I am worthy. I hope that as you continue this journey with me, we can share the good and the bad. Because as the title says, we are “Coming out of the Dark”.

 

Is it possible we make ourselves feel lonely? I feel lonely all the time, but I do have friends and family who love me dearly. Is it a sense of intimacy that I miss? I sense of someone from the “outside” that cares for me? Loneliness is one of the worst feelings ever. I don’t believe it has to do with solidary at all. I have been in many, many situations where I was in a room full of people and felt lonelier than if I were at home alone. I have felt it in relationships. What actually defines loneliness? I have no idea. I wish I knew. If I knew, maybe I could stave it off. Is it something that I feel more deeply because of the state of my mind? Why is life so hard? Why are making choices so difficult? I know that life is hard for everyone and that everyone has tomake hard decisions. I’m more curious about loneliness. Sometimes, I am so incredibly lonely, that I just cry. I want someone to hug me, to listen to me, to reassure me, to love me. It is a feeling of anguish. I know lots of people who are alone but they aren’t lonely and I so badly want their secret. I also know lost of people who aren’t alone and are lonely. Is there a cure for loneliness? Is there a way to lessen someone’s loneliness? As I sit here at my desk, with just the radio on and the dogs here. I am comfortable but hurting. I have no none to help me through hard times or bad news. To hug me and tell me it’s going to be ok. I have to think who I can call that is going to care about this awful news that I got. No one. That’s the answer. I have no one. I am all alone on my island of 1, and it seems as if the island is flooding. Who’s going to save me? Does anyone even care if the island floods and takes me with it? I wonder that all the time. Do I truly make enough of an impact on this world and this life that people would notice if I wasn’t here? If I failed to show up one day, how long would it take someone to realize I wasn’t there? This is my life. Pretty much every day. I try so hard to hide it, and most days I’m good at it, but today, is not one of those days. Today I am questioning everything. This has been a very hard week. And a week that I realized that I am the tree. I am the one who has no one to go to. I am the one with no one to turn to. Everyone has someone, but me. That is the story that my life has turned into. I can’t explain why I feel that way so deeply. I know that I have friends, I know that I have family, but that is not filling this hole that I have in my heart. I don’t know if it will ever be filled. Please, no one tell me to pray and God will fix it. I have been doing that for longer than I can remember. I know exactly who God is and what he can do, but where I am in my life right now, I have a hole as big as the Grand Canyon in my heart and it feels empty. I feel unseen, unheard. Unneeded. This is a hard place to be in. This is a place that I am uncomfortable in. This is the cave. This is the overtaking of the darkness. This is the crying in the dark. Wanting to be better. Praying to better. Praying to not have this hole in my heart and in my life. This is a very true depiction of what my life is like on a daily basis. Some days are better than others, but today is not one of those days. Today I am lonely. It’s been a long, drama-filled, scary, emotional week. And I’ve had no one here to share that pain with. No one to hug me. To help take the burden. Just me. Sometimes, I’m not enough for myself.

I had started writing this morning about music. In the process, I received some not so great news and deleted the writing. I love music. It’s one of my love languages. It can say things better than I can sometimes. It can speak to my soul and my heart as nothing else can. I remember being in church when I was little and watching Granny and Granddaddy sing along as I was in the choir. When in college, I would go dancing a lot and sing karaoke. When I hear any of those songs, it takes me back to those old friends, to certain situations, happy and sad memories. As I was sitting here, and I got the news, my thoughts took a different turn. They went down a road of not being able to control a situation or its’ outcome. Of feeling completely helpless to help those that I am so worried about. Trying to make decisions to travel or not to travel with current restrictions that are in place. With my anxiety, I do not handle this lack of control well. It eats away at me. It causes me extreme distress. I can be strong, I can handle it, but on the inside, that’s a different story. I know that ultimately, I have no control over anything, only God does. I can’t predict or change the future. But for the most part, I can convince myself of a sense of being in control. When things come that I can’t control, weather, sickness, other people’s reactions, that’s when things get really bothersome for me. That’s when I feel as if the ball of yarn is about to start unraveling. I hid it well, but there is no greater anxiety to me that being out of control. Do other’s feel this way? Is this specific to anxiety? This feeling of panic? I know that there is still worry and despair and sadness, but is it as poignant as it is for me? Does anyway do well in situations that they cannot control? With anxiety and overthinking, things that I am not in control of are enough to absolutely break me. I am in a state of distress. A constant state of panic. Trying to decide what to do when there really isn’t anything to do. I do have medicines that I can take that do help some. It slows my heat rate which helps with my breathing and usually can cut off an actual panic attack. This isn’t long today, I’m kind of in a state of uncertainty so I will end with I appreciate any and all prayers that you can send to my family right now.