I used to love writing. Writing was my first love. Now, I am not sure if I enjoy writing. It seems easy to come to the drawing board and write what is on my heart, it helps process the hurt and make sense of the mess that I am in. Didn’t the Lord say – come to me all you who are weary and I shall give you rest? I need to rest from everything. I no longer know what to do. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t opened up as much as I did – and stayed shut – like a closed book. It would have been easier. But would it have been easier?
I am battling a lot of flashbacks from the past and everything else under the sun. Maybe everything that was supposed to be good – doesn’t last long. Everything good seems to be taken away – like my son. I don’t see a way forward ahead of me. Maybe it is time to give up on this island and leave. That is the easy way out. But I know I will not do that. Somewhere inside of me Christ lives, and He will lead me on and give me the strength I need to continue to keep fighting through every tear.
For now – I will surrender each and every struggle at the foot of the cross. And trust that I am in the Lord’s palm and that he is in control of my situation. This is just a rough patch. A rough year. I’ll be glad to see the end of it.
It’s safer to hide, to withdraw into myself. I often wonder why I opened up so much. Why oh why did I decide to open up my heart and soul? What was the point? Is there any point to the tangled mess of thoughts? Am I really worthy to be loved? I feel like I am just breathing. Existing. Insignificant. Not making a difference in anyone’s life. I feel like I’ve become invisible. Hiding the pain away, and yet the tears are constantly on the surface. Do people even notice it? And I break down and cry. Jesus wept. I weep.