Breaking.

(Disclaimer: do not read this post if you're looking for something inspiring or uplifting. This was an outlet tonight...it isn't beautifully written or touching. It just is.)


 

I'm breaking. No point in denying it, I am breaking. I think weekly meltdowns and living in a constant state of anxiety are definitive signs that I'm not alright. Work. School. Gym. Homework. Home. Family. Church. I want to do it all, but I'm failing. Everywhere I turn I am failing. I want to throw my hands up and scream to the world "Screw it, I quit!!"...but those words are not in my vocabulary. Not at all.

I've brought this on myself, and I have no other person to blame. I thought I could do it all. I thought I was superwoman. No big deal. I can please everyone, including myself, and get everything done. It worked for a while...then my seemingly flawless world of marble started cracking. I started cracking. 

The turn of the year is where it started....my own life was stressful, disorganized, and I felt incomplete. My job was stressful, and I felt I carried a great portion of its' weight on my shoulders. My husband and I were fighting and struggling. He changed jobs. Then I found out my mother lost her job. Bam. A blow...a low piercing blow that affected the people I care most about. The worry and helplessness I felt is hardly describable.Then my life began to spiral...I became sick. I experienced the first of many anxiety attacks. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. I was throwing up. So I went to my parents. I took a break. It was so needed. I  made some life changing decisions. I came home with hope. 

Then I lost hope. Another blow. Crushing. Devastating. Heart-wrenching. It tore me from all foundations. It was the most acute pain I have ever felt. Taking into account every miserable experience I've faced in the last 10 years. How I came out of it...I have no idea. I guess I'm still not entirely out of it. But I ran for change. I started school. I found satisfaction again. I dug to find my own strength and purpose.

But the weight is still there. I have always been responsible. It has always felt like my job was to be strong. No matter what, I had to keep the faith....even as a child. Keep on trekking. I could cry and I could struggle, but I couldn't quit. I couldn't dissapoint. I have to be reliable. I have to think of others first. I did everything I could to not be the reason for anyone to cry, to mourn, to worry. 

I failed.

I am still failing. Those expectations are still there for me. Be strong. Be courageous. Be faithful. Be positive. Be responsible. Be forgiving. Be selfless. Be righteous. Be good. Be wonderful. Even if everyone else around you fails you, and disappoints you...forgive them. Love them. Trust them. Move on. Be there for them. Be strong for them. If they judge you, just smile and move on. 

And those expectations now have been added on to. Serve faithfully. Love your husband. Be a good worker. Be a mother. Be self reliant. Be a good homemaker. Be a great wife. Be a great employee. Be a great student. Be a great teacher. Be a great friend. 

So when life comes at you. When others leave work I STILL have to be there. Because I care. Because I am responsible. Because I don't want to hurt anyone.

When my heart is broken, past what feels repairable...when everything I trusted and everything I cherished was ruined...I have to forgive. I have to move on, move past and be strong. I have to remind myself, it isn't about me.

When God seems to have abandoned me. I have to have faith. I have to be grateful. I have to look for His hand. I have to be humble and I have to trust.

When others look at me asking "When are you going to have a baby?", I have to smile and pretend the judgement doesn't cut me. Even though it isn't there business. I have to let it go.

When I'm told that I have all the time in the world for myself. When I'm told, in any way, that my lot isn't difficult. That I am selfish. That I am lucky for my pretty little life....I have to bite my tongue, bite back the tears and keep myself from screaming at the top of my lungs,

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE PAIN AND HELL I'VE BEEN CLIMBING THOUGH!"

And then I cry. I cry alone and I cry because...for the first time in my life...I feel that no one can reach me. No one can feel this pain I'm feeling. I cry to my God and I only feel silence. I feel alone. And in that moment I feel and I see all of the cracks in my marble...and I realize I am breaking. 

Yet...this broken piece of stone still has to get up in the morning...put a smile on and face the world. I will post this, then feel guilty two seconds later because some people will read it and see the ugly truth about me. They will see that I am weak, and vulnerable and depressing. 

Yet tonight it wasn't about them or anyone else. It was about me. I need to release. I needed to write. I needed to extract some of the poison that is coursing through my heart. I have wept bitterly this night...but the only solace I have found is the simple act of writing it all out. And not just deleting it, because that feels like I'm burying it again. It is out there now. For me to look back upon. For me to admit. Maybe that's what I partially needed...confession. I needed to admit to no one in particular but to the universe at large, that I am breaking. I do not feel strong enough.

This wasn't a pretty blog post....

Tomorrow I'll repent. I'll write something uplifting and inspiring. I'll talk about all the good and progress in my life. 

But tonight I couldn't bring myself to do it. Tonight I could only cry.