Tug of War

July 18, 2014 at 4:51 pm

This morning I woke up before my husband and kids. I usually do. In that hour or two until they wake I usually try to go back to sleep. Sometimes I beg God to let me fall back to sleep. Sometimes I do. But usually I just lie there and pray… for my husband, for my kids, for all the people who are praying for me. I pray for strength, for endurance, for shields of light, for miracles. Some days I get up, and I feel almost normal. Those are gifts.

This morning I awoke with a heavy heart, with fear, with despair, with bitterness (PMS probably has something to do with it). And I cried and cried until it got really snotty and messy. I am so weary. I am so tired of fighting for my life. This tug of war, pulling me apart, stretching my soul to its breaking pointI don’t know how much more I can take.

The darkness whispers, “Life’s just too hard. What’s the point? It’s just going to get harder. It’s not worth this agony. Why prolong the misery any more?”

My husband, my parents, my sister, my friendsthey hold my hand, they hug me, they tell me, “You’re going to get through this. It won’t always be like this. You will feel happy again.” I make them promise me.  A few nights ago, as we were all getting situated in our beds to sleep, my three-year-old said, out of the blue, in the most serious and tender voice, “You’re going to be alright, Mom.” 

But the thing is… when you feel miserable inside, it’s so much easier to believe the dark voices. It is an enormous feat to hear and hold on to the voices of light when you’re drowning in darkness, especially when the darkness is adamant that the light is a total delusion.

But somehow I get up every day, and somehow I’m still here.

I’m still here.

I’m still here.

That seems like a miracle.

Somehow, in the chaos of voices coming at me, I can distinguish for certain that giving up isn’t the right thing to do. Deep down I know that life must be worth living because I see people all around me living their lives without death wishes. I see people smiling and laughing. I see women with bellies full of baby, confident enough in the goodness of life to continue bringing new life to Earth. I see my children shining like bright stars, and I know that I could never cast the dark shadow of suicide over them. Never.

Today, living feels like an enormous task, but I will do it.