Quiet

June 15, 2012 at 1:24 am

So the blog has been more quiet for the past month or so. This is partly because I’ve been busy trying to get better (still have some hard days), partly because I’ve been focused on my grandmother, partly because I’ve been busy with our Virtual Book Tour, partly because we’ve been spending lots of time with family and outdoors. I do have blogposts waiting to be written, gestating in my brain. But, in the meantime, here are some pictures of what we’ve been up to…

Four centimeters

May 15, 2012 at 12:25 am

For months I had been writing things like this in my journal…

“Right now I just feel so drained. I feel like I give and give and give until there’s nothing left.”

“I am exhausted. I want to sleep for two weeks. I so need a break.”

“I am so run down, so overwhelmed, so out of reserves. But what can I do except just keep swimming?”

“I need a break. Big time. So much.”

Little red flags were waving in front of my face for quite some time. And then Mama Birth posted this:

I think that selflessness and sacrifice are beautiful things- and I think they can purify us and teach us. But I also know now that a woman needs balance. . . . Babies need a mother who takes care of herself and the other people she loves and who herself is nurtured in her relationships.

And it was another little red flag, another messenger saying, “Girl, you need help. You need a break. If you don’t take care of you, you won’t be able to take care of anyone else.” (Thank you, Sarah). But, unfortunately, those little red flags just kept on waving, and I just kept on running myself into the ground. I could feel myself sliding into depression, and it scared me. I have been in that dark place before, and I did not want to visit it again. Looking back, I can say that the damage was already done. A body chronically depleted of sleep and sapped of vital nutrients through chronic stress is going to have a very difficult time functioning, let alone functioning cheerfully.

Beautiful crucible

May 10, 2012 at 5:49 am

I felt like I wanted to die.

In my head, at this moment, two weeks ago, a part of me was wishing for death.

Someone very dear to me has lived with deep anxiety for much of the past decade. He has also spent much of the past several years abusing drugs and living in a variety of rehab programs. But as I felt my whole body/mind/spirit breaking into unfamiliar pieces under anxiety’s crushing blow, I suddenly got it… why he has turned to drugs, why he has contemplated (and perhaps attempted) suicide, why some days are a massive feat of endurance for him. I understood, to some small degree, just how horrifyingly debilitating anxiety can be. Anxiety is real and raw and ravaging. And I will never again jokingly use the phrase “nervous breakdown” because now I’ve experienced a taste of what it actually feels like. And it’s no joke.

But. But here is what I also know now.

There is no darkness too deep, no fear too profound, no soul too shattered for love to reach.

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