I should be sleeping, but I’m just so down. It sickens me because I have so much to rejoice about, but I haven’t felt much like celebrating for a good month or more.
I was thinking about a happier time in my life … four years ago. We were expecting Emma and just days away from getting our house. I thought that memory would make me happy, like it should, but it was like pouring salt into my open-wounded heart. How have I strayed so far from that happy place?
For the past several weeks, I have been crying at inappropriate times (and often) and not rejoicing over exciting news. I am trying to put all of my faith in, well, my faith knowing that God has a plan … he already knows the outcome. He will never leave me. But the stress, frustration and hurt are all-consuming.
In February, Denny found out he is losing his job in June. As we near that date, it stresses me out. We have been in this situation before (and come through it!), but we didn’t have children or a house last time. A short while after that, I was given a lot more work and stripped of my title in my own job—that hurt and angered me. I am trying to move on, but it is so hard. How can I not take what happened personally?
These “big” things, which really aren’t that big at all, make every small setback seem huge. I am desperately trying to find joy to enjoy this amazing life, but I am weary. I’m having a hard time understanding why our efforts always fall short. Why do we always have to struggle? And then, I hate myself for being such a whiny baby. I’m trying to cut myself some slack, but life is hard. This is just a phase … a busy, difficult phase that will pass. If I keep repeating it, I will believe it, right?
