So, you know how you can be going along just fine, feeling great, feeling strong, in fact feeling amazing, like totally awesome-sauce - then BOOM. You hit the wall and blood splatters every where. And your parents pick you up and your little brother up and drive all the way to the hospital, to then realize that the newborn baby brother was left at home, so you have to turn around in your two-door Volkswagon Rabbit to get the newborn baby brother, just to turn back around to sew up the hole in your head from your little brother chasing you around the house...
Okay, so that is a true story - it happened when I was four, Brandon was three, and Logan had just sprouted from Mom's belly.
But it's also what has figuratively happened to me in the last week, or so. Here I have been going along just great (or so I thought), doing everything on my lists, keeping to the budget, cooking, cleaning, working, running all of the errands, setting up appointments, going to appointments, forgetting only a couple of the appointments, dealing with school stuff, working some more, setting goals, trying to come up with new traditions... then BOOM. I hit a wall. The only blood that has splattered is from my pinky toe, whose entire nail came off, but the tears that I have shed more than made up for the lack of splattered blood this time.
What is wrong with me?!?! Well, I'm sad. I'm hurt. I'm depressed sometimes. I have questions that may never be answered. I feel used and betrayed. (Both of which are accurate, FYI) I'm tired. Being emotionally broken is far more exhausting than being physically broken for me. The three back surgeries, heart surgery, hysterectomy, etc. were no match for the emotional exhaustion that I have felt in my life. No match.
I keep it together around people, and especially around my boys, but when I put myself to sleep at night, I cry until I finally go to dream land - which is only coming in spurts right now. I'm oh, so tired. When I'm busy, I'm better. When I'm working, I'm better. When I'm active with my babies, I'm better. When I'm alone, or quiet, or driving, I'm not better.
Rock came and took me to lunch today. I confided to him that I'm struggling. I asked him why? Why now? Why am I struggling now? Then I kind of answered my own question, with his help. I want for Josh to tell me everything I did wrong that made him go with other women and create another baby, all the while I was thinking we had a good marriage. You see, if he told me what I did to cause this then I wouldn't feel like my boys and I had been replaced. Feeling like someone replaced me and my children is oh, so painful. So, I just need him to tell me what I did wrong. But, he can't. He says, "nothing. I just made a big mistake." In my committed, loyal brain, that makes no sense. At all. Also, the last six years (really the last 20 years of failed relationships) have been a lie. I have been living a lie. I put soap in my kids' mouths for lying and grownups can just get away with it?? Like, it's nothing. Like, go ahead and live secret lives and there won't be a consequence for you, yet the other people involved will forever be affected by your stupidity.
See! I'm not okay, People! But, I will be. In no way is my testimony affected. Although, I have had some conversations with God lately that you could call real "whoppers." But, for crying out loud (and I do), move the freaking wall. Help me to know how to knock it down. I would love to take some sort of hard-hitting tool and just knock down some walls! I would also love to hit something else, but I won't go there!
This is what I know -- right now the wall is there and I need to get around it, go over it, knock it down... do something. I suppose walls are going to keep popping up along this path of life. I just want to be able to kick them down as soon as I see them. Patience never was a virtue of mine!