It's no mystery that this year has been hell for me. That I've had my heart torn out, my confidence challenged, my love dissolved. I've tried not to come right out and say things directly here, but several of you know the not-so-fine details.
I had dreams. Dreams of having 3 children, of having a house on a local lake, with a huge living room full of windows with beautiful views. Dreams of my dogs being lazy in the backyard. Dreams of spending quality time with my husband, of fostering that connection we used to have, dreams of making him happy, which in turn would make me happy.
My dreams-the doors have been shut on those dreams.
I don't even think about that lake house in my heart.
I try not to think about the pain and the hurt and the lies and the fancy footwork of someone who is an expert at convincing you of something you don't want, need, or know.
I do think about the other children I won't be having with him.
I do want more children. And I've said it several times, and I mean it-I will have more babies someday.
I know my dreams will change, are changing.
And that's okay.
There's some indescribable feeling related to those dreams...they are forming slowly, painstakingly, and the new growth is fresh moss green.
I'm struggling so much. I can't make ends meet and I don't really have anyone to ask for help. I've had several sweet people offer to help me, but we all know I have NEVER been good at asking for help, or accepting help when it is offered.
Tuesday night I was blessed by Chris (the long-lost @3giraffes). She didn't have to do it, and I really didn't want to let her, but she helped me anyway. And I'm so appreciative. I love her. She's been there when even my family can't.
Last week a doctor at my job wrote me a prescription for my gum infection. He didn't have to do it, but he did it anyway.
Several times last week, I texted two dear friends in a panic, begging for prayers. They both got back to me immediately. They both checked in on my several times throughout the week. They both gave me simple, kind words that worked to calm me, even if only for a couple of hours.
This past weekend my mom bought Christmas presents for my daughter, since I don't get paid until Christmas Eve. She didn't have to do it, and I certainly did not want her to do it, given her own financial struggles, but she did it anyway.
Tuesday morning I woke up feeling down, with a constant, dull ache in the center of my chest. I laid in bed listening to my blood pumping through my veins, and thought about how futile it was to cry, how miserable it was to wake up feeling lost and alone and thrown away. Dreams of yelling and crying and begging were taking up residence in the deep corners of my brain, and I couldn't push them away.
But Tuesday night, I felt better.
I know I am blessed. I know I should be more thankful all the time. I know things could be worse.
I am so thankful that I am loved, that people give me a chance, that others care about my heart and my life.
Thank you-you know who you are. I couldn't do this hell without you.