In my last post, I said that even though I am broken, I am filled with joy. That may have led you to believe that I am a happy person. Especially if you look at my social media photos. But that's not the whole story.
Today, I'm daring myself to be transparent. My ego is furious. I'm feeling vulnerable.
I had a bad night. Pain does not sleep. Self-pity does not rest. My mind wants to list all of the ways I am uncomfortable, my tally of losses, and how angry I am that my current circumstances render me useless.
It's not pretty.
I try to reason with myself. I am safe and warm. I am loved. My brain still functions some of the time.
I think of those who are homeless, hungry, lost, and without hope. Their suffering is so much greater.
Right? Who am I to complain?
Depression and anxiety are so loud. No matter how good I felt yesterday, somehow in the night I am thrown back into the abyss.
It's another morning of making the climb out of the pit. It's time for my morning gymnastics.
Music helps. One of my favorite Sting songs (Let Your Soul Be Your Pilot) says it well:
When the doctors failed to heal you
When no medicine chest can make you well
When no counsel leads to comfort
When there are no more lies they can tell
No more useless information
And the compass spins
The compass spins between heaven and hell
Let your soul be your pilot
Let your soul guide you
He'll guide you well
I read. Oswald Chambers dares me to take up my cross. Jesus Calling reminds me that God does not ask me to do anything more than he has already done for me. I study and meditate.
"Here we indeed groan, and long to put on our heavenly dwelling, so that by putting it
on we may not be found naked. For while we are sill in this tent, we sign with anxiety;...
He who has prepared us for this very thing is God,
who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee."
2 Corinthians 5:2-5
I pray. A lot. For everyone and everything. Scanning the psychic energy fields to connect, to send love and light and healing. To listen for direction.
Then, I work with my body. I stretch with gentle exercise to help with the pain. Some days it is grueling just to touch my toes. But I do it anyway. I'd rather feel the good pain than be held hostage by the bad pain.
Most days, that is my morning routine.
It's taken years to get here. So much has happened that altered my course and shook up my etch a sketch. Most of the time, I am truly baffled. I just don't get it.
As I have spent my life coaching others on how to 'make it' - what I do with me now is my ultimate test. My daughter says we need to talk about failure - how to fail, what it looks like to lose everything even when doing all the right things. I guess this is the start of that. After a lifetime of journaling in private, I'm taking a leap to journal in public. I'm not sure I can do it. Since posting yesterday, I've already considered deleting everything and going back to being invisible. We'll see. One day at a time.