Incredible Growth

Something else that has changed over the past year is my walk with Jesus.

Keep in mind that two years ago and beyond, I struggled with the bible.

I sat through sermons, barely able to listen or sit still. I had people try to do bible studies with me and I failed every time. I even had a dear sweet friend sit every week and read the bible with me, which I often say through in anger or didn't pay attention.

There was so much anger in me. I came out of a satanic home. My dad sold his soul to the devil, literally. He has a satanic cult bible. You don't come out of that heavy satanic influence and just suddenly start loving Jesus or reading the bible.

I'll tell you, you fight it every but of the way. You fight truth with lies because the lies have been bigger than you your entire life. You're angered by the bible and scripture. Inside, the spiritual battle rages. It's a fight of good versus evil, God versus satan. It's complete chaos and it manifests in very bad behavior.

That was me for five years. I felt like I was the dumb kid. I'd been a christian for five years and I knew so little. The chaos kept me from hearing. I lacked all confidence that I'd ever get it or that if ever be able to grab onto this thing called faith.

Thankfully, I had some awesome people who knew the score. They knew the spiritual battle and they were warriors who rallied around me. They were the ones who never let me go. There were others, but these three were on the front lines. They carried my husband and I through when we didn't have it in us to go a step further. I rarely mention names here. That's partially because none of the people would ever take credit. They'd give all glory to God. But Kandy, Dawson and Kim, we are forever thankful that you allowed God to work through you. We are thankful you never gave up.

As far as my spiritual life goes, I'd say you could describe the last 18 months as a growth spurt.

My prayer life has never been this active. I pray daily. And it's not just a quick, please God prayer. Although I still have those. I spend time talking with God about His will for my life. I ask the hard questions. I ask for Him to provide answers or people when I need them. I thank Him. Oh boy, do I praise Him.

When life is hard or I don't understand, I get on my knees. When I'm scared, I'm flat on my face. When I feel like He is far away, I fast.

And this timid, quiet, afraid to pray aloud Chica will praise my God aloud and pray to Him with or in front of anyone.

Another change, my confidence in biblical knowledge. I can't believe it, but all the effort that people put into me with scripture and bible study...it wasn't lost on me. I know stuff.

As I sat in bible study one night, I realized that I could answer every question that was being asked. Where was it coming from? I was a bible dumby. Soon, I started participating. Now, I have to be self aware so that I give others a chance to answer.

It's not just there. I can have conversation about things in the bible with people. I still feel behind, but not afraid. If I don't know, I'll go find it. If I have a question, I'll ask.

It's awesome to see the benefit of people not giving up.

I've also started to read again. Read the bible. Read books. Do bible studies by myself. That's been going on for about 18 months, but still exciting.

Yes, I've finally started to grow up. I'm not longer a baby. I still have a lot to learn but I'm no baby!

Incredible Healing

There has been an amazing amount of healing over the past year.

Albeit hard, leaving my first church was the first step. I still have friend there and we just choose not to talk about it.

For me, it was toxic. I had come to a point where I wasn't going to grow and there was no joy in serving. I don't need to enumerate all of the things that happened, just know they did. I also must say that when you reach a point in a church when you can't muster even the slightest bit if respect for the pastor, then your time is up.

Beyond that, this move has brought my husband and I closer together than ever before. I had to step up and care for him more than ever too. It gave me a new respect for marriage and our vows. It was the first time we've ever gone through a tough time that I never threatened to leave. I stood firm and vowed to fight for my husband and his well being.

Now let's get down to the most notable healing.

I've never in my life been too far away from my family. Two hours max. I was always within driving distance. Always within harassing distance. Always within abusing distance.

Guess what? A lot changes when you are approximately 766 miles or nearly 13 hours away from the man who has literally had control in your life for over 39 years.

I'm finally safe. For the first time in my life, I am safely tucked away in Ohio ans far, far away from my parents. Let me repeat...I no longer have to fear them.

There is a lot of natural healing that just came. I didn't need to talk through it. It didn't take weeks of working through this memory or that. It came as a big sigh the first time I explained that my family was over 700 miles away.

The house we sold, was never a safe place. My dad, my mom, one of my brothers, they all did horrific things to me in that house. I didn't go into the basement for over 10 years. If I did, I quickly lost control to the flashbacks that to over.

I was physically attacked at gunpoint on my block. I don't have a lot of memories of this, but it happened a few years ago.

We left behind all the trauma.

Let me say it again cause it's so damn freeing. I. AM. SAFE. HERE.

Yes, I'll still make contact with a counselor. I know with a history as extensive as mine, there are going to be things that come up. There will be things that trigger me. There will be times when life is hard. There will be holidays and birthdays that remind me of the choice I had to make and the feelings of abandonment or loneliness. I'm wise to that. I know that for my own well being, I'll need that.

I don't think I'm quite ready to head back to work. I still struggled with driving. I really only drive to doctor appointments, the grocery store, the library or church. I still fight insomnia and that tends to make me not reliable. However, those things are improving. I hope soon, I'll not deal with any of those things.

So that is a basic update of the general mental state. It'd be really unfair to judge my mental status by what you read here. This is my cry out to Jesus forum and often its not a fair indication of how things really are.

No Help

So, onto what happened long before getting sick.

We agreed before moving that it was time for me to go back to school. The plan was to get the last of my hours and take less than a year to graduate with a business degree.

I have lots of business experience. It comes easy for me and naturally. Easy choice.

Because I was so sick and the house hadn't sold, I knew I'd miss the fall semester enrollment. No biggie. Just delayed.

From the time we found out we had to move to the day the house sold, my husband went into a severe depression.

It was more than everyday depression. Most of his days, he struggled to function at work. At home, he was moody, hateful and completely shut down. He cried over everything and barely spoke to anyone.

I watched helplessly as his mental well being slipped away. I often found my love and care balanced with fear. I was fearful he would hurt himself or both of us. If I'd ask, he denied it. But I knew because I had been where he was. I knew.

When he sat in our bedroom this summer and admitted he'd considered suicide, I knew it was time he get help.

His family doctor here had helped manage his meds and had gotten him in toxic with the mental health center here. The problem? It was May and they told him that he would be on a wait list for both a psychiatrist and counselor until November or December.

Are you flipping kidding me?

So while he waited and got worse, I asked our pastor about local counseling. Honestly, we'd preder christian and not secular. Poor guy, that's the first communication he gets from me. I asked about counseling and discipleship. Nothing! There was nothing. Thankfully, the pastor was able to talk with him and it helped him to know someone cared and was praying.

Then there's me. Sick. Then grieving. I too call all over the area for counseling. It was clear that unless I had a substance problem or was a newly released criminal, I wasn't getting help.

I got on the wait list at the mental health center. Since I was not doctor referred, my wait time would be longer. It will be late spring or early summer 2015 for me.

Again, thankfully our pastor took on my grief and very emotionally charged bible questions.

I have two major medical insurances. I have a history of mental health need. And there was nothing for me within an hour of my house. I needed help and couldn't get it.

This area we live in is filled with people like us. They are broken. They are hurting. A lot live in poverty. It's a very depressed area. The economy has knocked many of these people down and life keeps kicking them. A lot are uninsured and unemployed. Jobs are tough to find in the nearby areas.

There's nobody here to help them. Nobody! Nobody to listen to their hearts and nobody to point them in any other direction beside their all too familiar ways of coping and self medicating.

My heart is breaking for these people. My heart knows there's a better way. My heart feels the call to show them that they don't have to walk through this life alone. My heart loves them.

The Harvest

I've never lived in a farming community. Never lived in the country. So this season is all new to me.

Yes, it's fall but it's harvest time.

Things are different.

Right now the farmers are harvesting soybeans and corn.

Keep in mind that I am getting an education. My husband had to explain why the crops had to "die" before they were ready.

I'm fascinated by all of this. In fact, I've patiently waited for the fields to be filled with combines and tractors.

We have fields behind our house and in every direction from our house.

I often drive through our one stoplight town going on errands or to the library. On a normal day, I might see 1, maybe 2 cars, on the road. Right now, it's busy. Semis, farm equipment, it's everywhere.

Everyone either has farming in their family or knows someone who does.

It's a time of concentrated busyness and excitement as I hear people talk about it.

For me, it's a time to reflect on growth. It's a time to consider my community and pray for them. It's a time to appreciate farmers who are taken for granted as they are the practical means to so many of our basic products.

I'm thankful for the opportunity to be where I am at right now and my ever growing perspective on life and living.

Pre Surgery

I want to start laying out something that's been on my heart for several months, something I feel called to do.

The best way to explain is to lay out the events that led to the revelation.

That month between August 4 and September 3 was probably the sickest I have ever been in my life.

I was literally bleeding to death slowly and didn't know it.

My hemoglobin dropped from 10.1 to 6.9 in that time. My heart worked extra hard to get oxygen into my body. My body temp slowly dropped to dangerously low points.

I was tired all the time. I would sleep 8-10 hours every night and then take a 1-2 hour nap in the morning and a 2-3 hour nap in the afternoon. When I was awake, I could barely keep my eyes open.

I couldn't walk across the house without getting winded. Doing anything, cleaning, laundry, taking a shower left me struggling to breathe and so tired I had to rest.

I froze. I've always been hot. I barely wore coats in winter. But during the hottest part of summer, I was in sweats and long sleeves. At night I was so cold, I'd snuggle up to my husband and add three blankets to my side of the bed. If I had to get up, I would shake and shiver for 30 minutes before getting warm.

I didn't leave the house. I didn't go to church, no bible study. I didn't even go to the store much and rarely alone. I was dizzy a lot and rarely drove.

The physical part was tough and probably a good sign that I was sick.

It was the mental part that really shook me.

Being down that long took a toll on me. I felt like I was going to die. I was weak in all ways with no answers or belief it would improve. I stood in our garden with my husband and told him something serious was wrong. I begged him to not let me die here.

Toward the end of that month, I started to hallucinate. It started with seeing animals, like cats, that weren't really there.

By the last week before surgery, they had gotten far more detailed. They felt like dreams, but my husband would often speak to me and I'd know I wasn't sleeping.

A lot of them involved this vision of Jesus that was always fixing or caring for something.

The day of surgery, we left for the hospital just after 5 am. All the way to the hospital, I watched two giant men walking in front of us with a child swinging between them. The men were dressed in brown and the child had a blue sweater on and a knit hat.

I told my husband about it afterward. He was sweet, but did say there was nothing there.

After being so sick, my perspective on many things has changed. The doctor said that the surgery saved my life and I believe that.

Before I got so sick, there were several changes in my life that I had felt led to to make. Change is hard and some of them would be hard. I put them as far out of my mind as I could because I just didn't want to make the sacrifices and hard choices. However, this experiences has brought them back  front and center in my life. I'd no longer have an excuse. I'd no longer be able to ignore these things that were so heavy on my heart.

So that's where I'm at today. Not ignoring what I already knew.

Hugs to soften a hardened heart

I went to church Sunday morning with a chip on my shoulder. I'm angry. I didn't want to hide it and really didn't hide it.

I wanted to be mad. I was hurt and I wanted to hold onto that as a reminder that people are no good. I wanted to to protect my heart against any more hurt by holding onto the idea that church is bad and Christians are mean people.

These days, I naturally smile. A lot. I made sure there was no smile and tried to make myself unapproachable. I didn't need anyone to be nice, I just wanted to be mad.

Then an elderly lady from Wednesday bible study came over, talked to me while rubbing my shoulder and and holding my hand.

Then more friends came to me during the time of greeting, standing with open arms and ready for a hug.

How could I not want to be with these people? How could I not want these loving people surrounding me? Was my hurt and anger really woth missing out on all this love?

One of the things that we discussed this afternoon was that if we are going to stay at this church, then I probably need to deal with these feelings. Otherwise, we aren't going to survive there.

But still, confrontation is hard. It's never easy to tell someone they hurt you. In fact, the pastor said something today that resonated with me and in this situation. He was talking about the lady at the well. She was cynical and in disbelief. She gad a past of being mistreated and used. She believed her reality, which was that she wasn't worth the time.

That's my default. When someone hurts me, I quickly revert back to that little girl thinking. I'm not worth anybody's time. It's ok for people to be mean or mistreat me because I'm used to it. I'm fat and ugly and people will always look at me as though I am beneath them.

That's where I go, right or wrong. Belittling myself to the point of locking away the hurt because I'm of no value.

Still, it might be easier to slowly slip away from the church than to talk with someone about being hurt, especially when you are certain they don't care.

We hosted our small group Sunday night. It was a mixed bag. They are all great people, very caring and loving. Yet, I wrestled with the question of the church. Again, I was fairly certain this would be a first and last.

We had a great time. Good conversation. As everyone was leaving, something happened. One by one, the members started hugging me before they left. Not everyone, but a lot. Kind words were spoken and a genuine anticipation for the next time we could all gather together.

Can I just say right now, my heart melted. I could feel the hardness slipping away and the feeling of being loved and a part of something bigger slipping in.

It wasn't what I wanted. I wanted easy. But these people. I am finding myself being brought into their family. And I like it.

We've never experienced church the way these people do church. They are exactly how they present themselves. This congregation is a family. Maybe it's easier in smaller churches. I'm not saying they are perfect. They are just perfectly themselves.

So with my convicted prideful heart, I'm sure I'll have to move past the little girl way of thinking and face this issue. Cause I think what sits on the other side of this bump in the road might be worth it.

Church Hurt

It's Sunday and I'm not the least bit excited to head to church. That makes me sad.

Since we started at this church, going has been the highlight of my week. The preaching is good. The music is good. The people are nice. We even started the process to become membera last week.

Somethings happened this week that make this hard. They probably aren't anything so big that we would walk away, at least I don't think so.

In fact, I'm not even going to go into much detail because the person(s) in question have yet had a chance to defend their actions/words or explain them.

What I realized though is that getting into a church again is a scary thing for us.

Our last church, we never connected with beyond surface level. Why? Well, because we were moving and because we kept our distance.

See, leaving our first church was hard. It was painful, like a break up. Things were said, not said, done and not done. I'll never deny that it was time. It was time to sever the relationship and I think both sides would agree. Regardless, it was painful. We felt like we lost our family and we really did.

That pain isn't as raw, but it's certainly still there.

You know what happens when you pick at something before it's healed?  It bursts back open and you feel that raw pain again. Gosh, this is a theme in our lives lately.

I can say that what happened, although much more minor infraction, definitely irritated that not yet healed wound.

I don't know if I'll go to church. It might be too soon. I know we'd like to stay at this church, so I'm trying my best to not go there. Even if I go, it'll be difficult to engage the person(s) who hurt me.

I'm not naive to this either. These people don't know me, they don't know my past and they don't know the experiences which have shaped me and grown me. So, I know they are going to hurt me. I know they aren't going to do it intentionally.

This one just stings a lot right now and raises a lot of questions. I know the person(s) involved have no clue they've hurt me. Honestly, I'm working and praying through grace and forgiveness right now.

Speaking if that....why is the one thing we desperately want when we make a mistake, the absolute hardest thing to give when we've been wronged?

Sad to say, there aren't many other churches worth the time around here. If we don't succeed in this church, we will probably fall away from church. We don't want that either.

Maybe God will give me the ability to forgive what I don't want to and maybe He will use this to heal our hearts and grow us in faith.

Rainy Days

As I sit here watching the rain fall, I take in the fresh air and listen to my stomach growl. The fresh air reminds me I'm alive and my stomach reminds me of life right now.

Despite the growls, I'm not hungry. Since getting so sick, I've struggled to have an appetite. I weigh myself often, that's how I've kept myself health conscious the past year. A year ago, I was at my heaviest weight ever. I had lost about 25 lbs before the move. Gained some back. Then started to lose again. Over the past month, I've lost an additional 20 lbs, bringing me to close to 50 lbs in a year.

My body really is getting healthier. I'm finally recovering from being sick. My body temp and heart rate have stabilized. Getting tired doesn't happen often. I can't push very far on physical exercise yet and I still get cold in the evenings. But this is much improved.

I'm not sure why, but my empty stomach reminds me of another emptiness in my life. I'm alone here. Still.

I've said it before, but it's true...I'm an outsider here.

Sure, I can have conversations with just about anyone. I've met a lot of people. The people are nice.

It has been hard to find where I fit in social circles. Those groups are established and full. There isn't room for additions.

Please understand, I'm not picking on the church we are attending or any particular church with what I'm about to say. This is true of all churches. They are cliquish.

Separated by life stage, you can see the groups of the church as they often congregate together before and after service or during events. They might cross lines for a momentary conversation with another, but rarely to speak to anyone not already in another clique.

You can see the people who are new or haven't been welcomed into any group. They sit on the edges and look alone. They might have one or two people engage with them, but they often sit there watching the masses who know each other mingle.

I know that, because I am one of them.

It's hard. Trying to make a place for yourself with women is hard.

At our first church, it took me about 4-5 years to finally find my place and feel like I belong. I could see it taking that long or longer here too. But the sad reality is that church is the only place here for me to develop relationships.

We live in the country. Everyone keeps to themselves. I don't have anything in common with most of the women I have met. Besides a few handicapped people who are unable to communicate at the library, I really don't come into contact with anyone.

We did have a women's bible study at church and that was good. However, it was just cancelled. The person teaching needed a break and nobody else teaches.

I'm not really sure what to do. I've tried. I've invited women to coffee, over for lunch, etc. and only one has taken me up on the offer. We go to every opportunity we have at the church. We've been there more Sunday's than probably most people. I've tried to engage people.

I think this one is going to be out of my hands. I desperately want friends here, but I'm not sure deep relationships will ever happen.

It sucks to feel so alone. It's made all of the past few months harder. When I had surgery, I had my husband. I feel like I missed out on being cared for because there was nobody here to do that. I mean who really wants to eat hot dogs after surgery, my husband's go to when I'm sick.

I'm squeezing this into my prayers too. I often pray that I never become this way. I ask God to always remind me how difficult relationship building has been in established churches so I never become complacent and forget about the ladies sitting around the edges wanting to be welcomed.

Grace

Ack! I'm awake at 4 am again.

I woke up thinking about grace.  Something happened yesterday, actually several things, and I think I'm going to have to extend grace where I want to be angry. I want to be angry because someone didn't handle something well. Someone who doesn't know the fullness of the story and doesn't understand that it is not my norm to reach out in crisis. Someone who probably struggled to say the correct thing, much like I would have. 

In my last post, I said I was going to put my emotions away so others are more comfortable. That's still going to happen. I don't think it's truly ok to be messy in church. 

But, I realize that I need to have some grace in my life too. 

We are now in our 10th month of things being hard. 

I went back and read some older posts. To be fair, it doesn't expound on the positive, but my blogging had slowed down. I didn't have time, simply put. 

January. We joined a new church after months of pain and trials with our first church. We didn't get involved and we didn't develop any deep relationships. We also had two different pastors in that 3 months of membership. 

February. Found out move was possible. Found out move was imminent. Husband got super depressed, starting shutting down and living in denial. Were told to get the house on market and start looking in Ohio. 

March. Husband more depressed. Spent every waking hour getting house ready to sell. House goes on market. Contract on house after two days. Have niece and nephew for final hoorah before we move. Travel to Ohio. Look at over 30 houses. Decide on house. Contract accepted. Realtor in KC causes that contract to fall apart. House back on market. Find out we can proceed with Ohio house non contingent. 

April. After 10 days, another contract. Stress through inspections and appraisals on both houses. Work had to be done after KC inspection. Ohio appraisal was a disaster because the owners trashed the house. Still best deal. Said goodbye to family and friends. Packed what we needed. Moving company packed the rest. Moved to Ohio April 29. 

May. Cleaned and made house livable. Moved our stuff in. Started the miserable process of finding a church. Husband still depressed. Tight budget. Neither of us felt good. 

June. Husbands depression worse. Trying to settle. I got sicker, blamed stomach. 

July. House contract finally falls through. Back on the market. Agents have given up. Still getting sicker, still blaming stomach. Even tighter budget. 

August. Niece and nephew coming, not coming after nephew falls. Had to fire agents, start with new. House back on market, no interest first 10 days. Husband having anxiety and depression hits peak. I finally end up at ER, very sick, feeling like I could die. Super bad experience. Saw dr. Had biopsies. No answers. Could be cancer. Still getting sicker, weaker. Sleeping 12-15 hours a day. Can't move without being short of breath.  Switch dr. Got contract on house. Sweat new inspection and appraisal. 

September. Still sicker. Surgery. Two days later, make a 14 hour trip to husband's family. Excruciating pain for me. Finally sign on house. Make 12 hour trip home. Sweat out two weeks for test results. No cancer. Find out how sick I was, surgery saved my life. Hemoglobin 6.9. Abnormal cells that need watched. Original problem was 12 week miscarriage. Grieving. Trying to make decision on fertility treatments. Still no deep relationships being developed. Husbands depression finally improved. 

Start October with a 3.5 week miscarriage. 

I'm sure I've missed some things along the way. It's been a lot. That's an under statement. I think it's a miracle we've survived this as well as we have.

I hate to quote a cheesy pop song, but it resonates deep within me. "I need your grace, to remind me to find my own." How very true that is. I hope people will show me grace during this time and I hope I can remember to do the same. I hope I can offer myself some grace too, understanding that the past nine months would have broken even the strongest person. 

2 Positive Pregnancy Tests and 1 More Miscarriage

The title is correct. I can't bring myself to share this with the world, but I can cry it out here.

Yesterday and today, I had two positive pregnancy tests. After a call to the doctors office, a blood test will soon confirm that I had another missed pregnancy.  According to the nurse, that's a non viable pregnancy 4 weeks or under, which would be true for me.

Since I've barely gotten through processing the previous deluge of information, it's not likely that I can add this to the pile.

Have you ever gone to someone for encouragement and walked away feeling deflated?

We are here oin the middle of nowhere and we've only begun to develop relationships. I really don't have any close friends yet. Those who are getting to know me have yet to see the real me. They've seen a very subdued, quiet and sickly person who has really been like a fish out of water trying to adapt. Now that I feel better physically, they are seeing a very emotional side of me. A side very few people have seen in person. But these people are seeing it because I can't hide it.

I had a conversation today that made me realize that I've got to start putting this emotional stuff away. Nobody is equipped to handle it, certainly not me. Why are Christians like that? It seems there's only so much they can hear straight from your heart before get tired of you?

Maybe I wasn't quite honest enough. I think this is a breaking point for me. This is the point where I move on with absolute certainty and confidence in Gods sovereignty or I give up and walk away.

If I go with my head, I'm abiding in what The Lord asks of me. I know, there's a lot riding on it. I know the right answer here.

And yet, my emotions are charging on and taking over. If I go with my heart, I walk away. This being a Christian stuff is way too hard. It's not in me, it's not in any of us to simply look past our pain and thank God for the suffering because he offers something so much better. It's not in me to praise God for this pain and accept that there is good in it.

Again, I find myself knowing that to hold tight to faith and remain in the church, I must lock away all that I feel. God maybe comfortable with my emotion and anger and tears, but people aren't. To move forward, I have to make a choice to be uncomfortable so everyone around me can be comfortable.

I'm sure that's what will happen, but it shouldn't have to. Jesus wept. Would we have pushed away because we were uncomfortable with his pain? Would we have told Jesus, there's no reason to cry because he knows God has a plan? Seriously. What would you have done?

I've said it before and I'll continue to say it....we need to get real comfortable walking with people in their pain and tears. If we don't, we will drive away every person from church who feels as though they are somehow more broken than everyone else.

It's time to get on with life.

Tired Of Tears

Dammit!!!!

That's right. I'm still me. I am still my husband's little sailor. I still have bigger things God has to deal with me on before He's ready for the swearing. 

I'm so sick of crying. All. The. Damn. Time. 

I hold it together, mostly, when anyone is around. Then the second I'm alone, I have an ugly bawling fit. 

I'm not kidding, I've felt my stability slipping away from me the past few days. To be fair, I've been pretty stable for over a year. I've been driving over a year. It's hard to believe. 

It's taken a lot of work. A lot of doing what I've learned. A lot of being honest with myself and those around me. A lot of talking through those little things that pop up. 

Granted, I've been focused on our home and move a good portion of that time. Before that was leaving our first church. I've had other stuff to keep my mind busy. Oh and I can't forget that I was physically sick for about 4 of the past 5 months. 

There's also a good deal of healing from the past that has come from moving. 

All that being said, it's been tough this past two weeks. To be very simple, I fight to find value here on earth and long for heaven. 

Can you blame me? I'm once again feeling a pain that surpasses all understanding. 

I think of all the times I could have died. My dad had plenty of opportunities. The armed assault not down the street from out old house. The truck wreck with no seatbelt. I question why not then to avoid this pain. I have to ask those questions. I think without those questions, we never set ourselves in the same direction that God has for us. 

This is just so incredibly hard. I'm tired of the tears. I'm tired of the pain. I've told everyone not to rush my grief, but have yet to take my own advice. 

All babies go to heaven...

Do they? How do we know? My head is spinning and my mind has lost out to my heart.

Is the bible clear on it?  Everyone has always told me they do, but in my frantic search to calm my fears, I can't find it.

Oh my goodness, this doesn't get easier. It's so strange. The past two days have been good. My mood has been good. Then, at the end of the day, it all falls apart.

During a couple conversations yesterday, I am reminded why this time the pain so much deeper.

One of the things I have always done with pain is lock it away. I've always had sophisticated coping mechanisms in place to lock memory and emotion deep inside. There has been enough healing over the past seven years, that I no longer have that natural default. Now, I feel the pain.

There's something very important to understand about me. When I feel something, I feel it very deeply. Throughoyt most of my life, I did not have the capacity to feel anything. As I began to learn, I only had the ability to feel about things that were incredibly meaningful. I still do that.

Right or wrong...when I feel joy, it is a jubilant happiness that radiates throughout every facet of my life. When I feel sadness, it is a bottom of the pit hopelessness.

This grief is deep and new for me. I feel it in my soul, as if something is missing and I am empty.

This loss is really making me evaluate my true belief in heaven. I've never lost a Christian friend. I've never lost any saved relatives. Pretty sure I don't have anyone in heaven waiting for me.

Maybe it's because I'm still grieving the earthly loss, but I can't wrap my head around heaven. If the baby we just loss is there, how will I know? How will any baby thats never seen me know I'm his or her momma?

There's a part of me that wants to put this behind me, as if it never happened. The other part is ready for heaven right now. I'm ready for no more tears, no more pain.



Just a reminder, I ultimately write these posts for myself. With the exception of a few friends, I have no idea who you are. I don't publicize this blog and most friends do not know I blog. Everything I write is real and raw. I ask that you not judge, but walk through this with me by praying for me. I have sought out biblical counsel, but the days between those times are long and full of pain and questions. Please help pray me through those days.

Thorn in my flesh...

First of all, we have found an amazing church and pastor here in Ohio.  I cannot tell you how much we feel at home and how it is evident that God meant for us to land there.  In fact, the reason for our move to Ohio may have well been to experience a church such as this and restore our faith in church.

I met with our pastor today.  I had poo pooed the idea when people suggested it.  No doubt I needed someone to walk through this valley with me.  However, our more recent experiences would tell us that we are beneath pastors and they are far too busy to care about the depths of our life.

Maybe it's that this church is small or maybe because this pastor is different, but the experience today was much different.

The first thing he did was remind of Paul and the thorn in his flesh.  I hadn't ever picked that apart.

It is possible that infertility is my thorn.

It is certainly the thing that I have begged to be taken away from me.  It is the thing that is right this minute creating a wedge between me and God.  It is the thing that drives my anger and brings me to tears.

It's painful.  It hurts physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.  It's the thing that keeps me from feeling whole.  It's the thing that I stomp my feet and swear that this life isn't fair.  It's the thing that makes me question the goodness of God and all I know to be true.

It is definitely my thorn.

It's so confusing.  Honestly, I don't pray about the fertility much any more.  I pray more that God remove this natural desire from me.  The one where I naturally feel led to be a mother.  I've prayed for that for years.  And, it's not been answered.

Or maybe it has.

Maybe I'm not supposed to be without that desire.  But why?

I don't know.

I do know that our window will soon close.  We literally have, fully stretched to the last possible minute, 9 months to get pregnant or the door forever closes.

As our bible study group gathered around us and had a time of prayer over us last night, I heard heart-felt prayers for us to have a baby.  I realized that even I haven't prayed that big.  I've prayed for God to lead us in the right direction.  My right direction is to take that desire away.  Why?  Because the fear of pain is too much.

My fear is that if we do treatments, they will fail or we will suffer more loss.  I can't even bring myself to think that God could answer these bold prayers that friends and strangers are praying over us.  All I can see is my desire to not hurt.

I still don't know what we are going to do.  It certainly helps to understand why this is so hard.  This is my thorn.

Now to hold onto faith while wrestling over these decisions and desires.

Puffy Eyes, Broken Heart

If you've read any of my blog at all, you would know I'm not the kind of person to ask for help. I bottle things up until they explode and I'm forced to get help. 

I've called private and christian counsellors today, trying to get an appointment. I'm on a waiting list till next year and that's not going to cut it. 

There's so much that makes this loss harder. 

It's my first as a Christian. Never during the seven years of my walk with Christ have I ever been so faithful, so confident, so bound to God's promises. There wasn't a lot that could have shaken that. 

Except losing a baby. 

It's all hitting me so hard today. I'm faithful to fulfill obligations the best I can. So I baked 12 dozen cookies for happy, healthy children. There was probably a tear for every one of them. 

After all I've been through in my life, I rarely ask why me. I rarely get angry or commiserate in the unfairness of what has happened. But I am today. 

All I can think of is that we've lost another chance to be parents and it's not fair. We weren't even trying. Another lost chance to wipe snotty noses or wait on a school bus or buy a prom dress. The list goes on and on. 

This loss is devastating. My feelings certainly aren't in alignment with my beliefs right now. I don't understand this loss. Don't understand why it happened. Don't understand why we could have just not gotten pregnant again. That's the unfair part. 

The grief is overwhelming. Why in the world did God move me away from all that is good and bring such heartache? There doesn't seem to be an acceptable answer. 

Loss

I'm not unfamiliar with loss. Family, babies, friends, pets. I've lost them all. Some by death, some by choice, some by natural progression. I've said thousands of times that I'm immune to it. I suppose that's true to a degree.

I learned something at my appointment this week that I never expected. When I went to the ER in August, I was somewhere between 10-12 weeks pregnant and did not know.

It takes a lot to put that out there. Only because it's taken me a few days to wrap my head around more loss.

When you're told you can't get pregnant, you never expect it.

Really, it's kind of a messy story. In the ER, they failed to do a pregnancy test. If they had, they would have done a D&C immediately. They didn't, so I had a month of complications. Complications that dropped my hemoglobin to a dangerous 6.9 and gave me severe anemia that will take months to recover from.

I'm recovering well physically. I still get tired more than normal and I'm freezing all the time. My body temp dropped below 94 and still hovers near 95-96. Let me tell you, I quite enjoyed a 105 degree hot tub on an 80 degree day recently. Strange for me.

I realized today that my heart isn't recovering well at all. I am having a tough time chalking this one up to just something that happens.

While I am making friends here, I'm not close enough to anyone to really have a deep conversation about this. I've talked briefly to my pastor, but he's a guy. So, I spared him all the tears and emotions I wanted and needed to unload on someone besides my husband.

Oh my word, the emotions. Since there's nobody to talk to, the emotions seep out in other ways. Ok, maybe come flying out, misplaced and confusing for my poor husband. I love him, but he's just not good in those bawling, screaming fits that have nothing to do with the nonsense spewing out of my mouth.

For the record, I have contacted a local counselor. The only one on our insurance in the area. And, I'm on a waiting list until sometime next spring or summer.

I don't know why this loss is so hard. I don't know why this grief feels so much deeper.

Since Wednesday when I learned about the miscarriage, I think I've barely gotten through a few hours without crying. I want to curl up in my blanket and just stay there.

There's nothing that could've been done to stop the miscarriage at the ER even if they had done the test. Ultimately, the series of events led to the discovery of these abnormal cells. My mind fully grasps the idea that all things happen for a reason.

But my heart...my heart just isn't on board with that. My heart is aching over the loss of a baby. A baby I didn't know I had. A miracle that never really was. My heart is questioning Gods plan. My heart is angry. I want to be immune to this pain, but I'm not. This hurts and I don't know how to deal with it.

No Cancer and Never More Stressed

The final results of my surgery came back consistent with the biopsy, no cancer.  There is a small group of abnormal cells.  Those cells could resolve themselves or turn into a stage 1 cancer.  Therefore, I will need a repeat surgery in the future to check the stability of the cells.  Thankfully, my doctor seems very positive.

Another thing my doctor is very positive about is that we have a short window of time to consider and pursue fertility treatments.

The world kind of came to a screaching halt two days ago for me.  WHAT?  A baby?  Me? Us?  How? No? Yes?

I'm sick over the thought.  We had written off the idea of biological children a very long time ago.  No way it would ever happen and we it wasn't on our radar at all.  In fact, we had only recently began to discuss and pray about the possibility of adoption.  Even that was a future thing, a few years off for us.

It's a bit of dejavu.  We've been down this road before.  We went through the testing.  As young newlyweds, we tried the medications.  With no regard to multiple births or the true reality of all the responsibility of children, we charged forward through a process that could have given us our hearts desire.

That journey led to a lot of heartache and tears.  At times, the pain threatened to break our marriage.  After lots of failed attempts, we gave up.  We didn't have the money at the time to pursue IVF and so our options were limited.

Even before I was a Christian, I knew this was something that was out of my control.  I've had PCOS for many, many years.  I've had scar tissue removed from many, many years of abuse.  I've known that a viable pregnancy was beyond my control.

Now here we are.  We've been married 16 years.  He is 49 and I am 39.  We've been given this tiny bit of hope, when we weren't expecting it at all.  We have a doctor who says that if there's ever been a time, it's now.  And, we must decide to move to take a chance or decide to forever let go of the idea.

My husband.  I know he has grieved fatherhood for years.  He loves children.  I mean, he's sorta a big kid himself.  When we used to have more contact with my nieces and nephews, he was the one that made sure the house was full of toys.  I have watched him long for children and be devastated that there are none.  The older he gets, the harder Father's Day becomes.  Now, at 49, he's come to some sort of reality where he will forever be childless.

This news is still fresh for us.  So, my husband has shared only a tiny bit of what is rolling through his head with me.  Let me remind you that it took us 14 years to agree on a color to paint over the hideous pink that was in our bedroom.  This is a man who does not make decisions quickly.  When you put a time limit on him, it is not likely he will comply.  That's just who he is.

Of course, he is fearful.  He's almost 50.  He's afraid having a child at 50 is unfair to a child.  If he were to die at 70, that leaves a 20 year old without a father.  He's afraid that he won't be able to be a good dad as he gets older.  He's fearful of the responsibility.

I respect those fears, I really do.  They aren't unlike my own.  I also fear that 6 months of fertility treatments will lead to a lot more years of heartache.  Heartache that I've been able to move past and heal from over the past few years.

When I think about fertility treatments, I can only forsee pain and loss and emptiness.  Why can't I see possibility?   Why do I not look at this new hope with the end result being a baby?

I think it is because I don't yet believe that there could be anything good in my life.  My life has been hard....a lot!  Things are never easy.  As a general rule, I have experienced pain and loss more than love and joy.

As we consider our options, there is a theme that I cannot shake.  I believe we are headed down a road of not even trying treatments.  If that's the case, I will have to be ok with that.  What I can't ever be ok with is that the list of things my family and past have stolen from me never seems to end.  Ultimitely, the deciding factors will come down to that.  Where the past has left me today.  Whether it is fertility treatment or adoption, the deciding factor will ALWAYS be found in the past.

Please pray for us.  Two days in and this decision is already dividing us.  It's already flooding us with emotion and tears.  Neither one of us are ready to make this decision and right now, we aren't on the same page.

It Is Finished

Let me start with a disclaimer that I am in no way comparing my life to the life of Jesus...

When I think about Jesus on the cross saying, "It is finished," I can't help but think about the finality of it all.  I mean how much more poignant could that statement be?  Over.  Finished.  Done.  No more.

We have finally reached a finality in our lives, a couple actually.

Our KC house is finally sold.  Gone.  Done.  Finished.  Not ours.  No more.

This process has been so stressful, that you might think that we would only have feelings of joy the moment the papers are signed.  That's partially true, but not completely.

There is some trepedation.  It was our first home, our home of 16 years.  The place of our first purchase, fight, success, etc. as a married couple.  We learned to cope, live and laugh together there.  We grew to love each other well there.  It's bittersweet to say the least.

We are so incredibly thankful to have the debt gone.  To not have to pay multiple utilities for two homes.  We are excited to not have to worry and fret over the house.  Most of all, we are thankful to now only live in one place.

Even when Jesus said it was finished, it wasn't.  In fact, it was a new beginning.

The same could be said for us.  Now that it is finished, it is time for a new beginning.

We will have the ability to live a lot less stressed, which means less bickering. We will be able to save money instead of throw it at another house and a mountain of debt.  We will be able to do things we want and need to do.

I did have surgery last week.  I feel a bit of a new beginning since that as well.

I had literally felt like I was going to die.  What I didn't know was that if I hadn't sought medical attentions, I could have died.  Not only did I have the obvious physically issues, my hemoglobin was dropping and fast.

Prior to surgery, my hemoglobin had dropped low enough to warrant a transfusion.  Thankfully, the doctor waited to see if the surgery would cause it to rise.  It did.  By the time I left the hospital, it had come up from 7 to 8.  If it doesn't keep rising, the doctor is going to push into a transfusion to get me back on track.

It's crazy, but I know it's getting better.  I didn't realize just how sick I was.  My face was pale white and now has color.  I wake up with so much more energy.  I do wear down by the end of the day, but there is a noticeable difference in how I feel.  We still have to get the results next week to determine if there is any cancer, but I am feeling good.

I have to admit, I am a little lost right now.  This new beginning came so fast that I had no time to plan what was next.

Of course, I have some major cleaning to do after being sick the better part of the past three months.  I want to get back to the things I enjoy.  I want to start serving the church and church body again.  I am ready to embrace and live life here in Ohio.

Maybe Cancer, Maybe Not

A few days before a blogpost, I usually have some idea of what's on my mind and what needs to come out.  Not this past couple weeks.  It's been a roller coaster.

I suppose that things started to take a nose dive about the time of the last post.  The disappointment of the kids not coming to visit was just the beginning.  In hindsight, it was probably good they weren't here.  My past two weeks have been filled with one medical appointment after another.

Two weeks ago, I had to make a trip to the ER.  I'll spare you the graphic details, but I thought I was going to die.  I obviously didn't, but it started a whirlwind of doctor visits and tests.

Bloodwork and initial tests in the ER showed that I had an abnormal growth pattern in my uterus.  My hemoglobin was low and I was weak.  I would have an emergency visit with a gyno a couple days later.  The upside was that my bloodwork did not show any abnormalities in white or red blood cells, indicating that I wasn't fighting any infections and didn't show any immediate evidence of fighting a major disease.

My appointment would lead to more tests, biopsies.  At that time, I honestly wasn't worried.  This was the same steps that happened prior to my diagnoses of adenomyosis over seven years ago. 

In the meantime, my tear duct infection made a roaring comeback and forced me to a local eye doctor.  Since it was recurrent, I had to start a round of high powered antibiotics.  No fun.  Two rounds of those, increasing in strength, has left me with even more tummy trouble.

I also had to make an appointment for November with a dermatologist because a suspicous black spot showed up on the back of my arm.  To add to that fun, I am going to need to see an ENT soon because my positional vertigo is back with a vengenance.

Any wonder why I feel like I am suddenly falling apart?

Don't get me wrong, it was sweet of people to check to see if I had gotten results from my biopsies.  However, I realized that others were far more concerned than I was.  Insert sudden onset of fear right here!

In addition to all the other issues, the biopsy process only worsened the problem that sent me to the ER in the first place.  Miserable!!!!

On Wednesday morning, I received the call I had been waiting for....sort of.  It wasn't the doctor, it was the nurse.  She said that I now needed to come in to talk to the doctor because the course of treatment had been changed.  I begged her to tell me if it was cancer and of course she could not clearly answer that. 

Why is it that when bad news comes, you are always driving?  I calmly called my husband and then immediately began the wailing, hyperventilating cry.  I love my husband.  He was so wonderful to take off the rest of the day to stay with me. 

Later that day, we sat and listened to the doctor as she explained my results in her very broken English.  Let me just add this funny.  Uterus in broken English doesn't sound anything like uterus, but more like some made up word for some kind of snake. 

I digress.  She explained that there was no evidence of cancer.  However, the tissue samples were abnormal and may contain precancerous cells.  She said because of that, she needed to transfer my care.  She said if I chose to not get any treatment my entire life, those cells had about a 10% chance of developing into cancer. 

Now we wait to see a specialist in another city.  We aren't sure exactly what treatment will be, but know that hysterectomy is on the table.  That's another discussion for another time. 

I think if I weren't in so much pain right now, I would be far more excited. 

There are a few things I have gotten out of these past two weeks. 

Being really sick has grounded me a little bit from my normal worrying about every little ache and pain.  My hemoglobin wasn't low enough for a transfusion, but it was almost low enough for IV intervention.  It was also low enough to make me very weak and very cold.  My goodness, I'm just now wearing only one shirt to bed.  I'm still not sleeping well because of pain, but I am exhausted most of the day.

When it really matters, I'm not alone.  My husband has been there when I needed him and when I wanted him. 

I have the Corrie Ten Boom quote between our bathroom mirrors that goes something like this...You never know Jesus is all you need until Jesus is all you have.  This whole process of moving and falling apart has tested my faith beyond what I realized.  I was angry.  I was hurt.  I blamed God.  I felt like I was being punished.  However, laying on an ER table, completely weak and feeling as though you might die before anyone helps you, you realize that Jesus is all you have.  When the sounds got distant and the people got blurry, the only thing I had was Jesus.  Either He would walk me through this or I would see Him soon.  I know, I wasn't that close to death.  But, I was probably weaker than I have ever been in my life and probably more scared than ever before. 

Honestly, I don't know where all of this is going.  I don't know the outcome.  I don't know what the plan is for any of the other looming health issues.  Goodness, please pray for us.  Our plates are full and running over right now.  And, we are here to go it alone.  Just us and Jesus and those who encourage and pray for us.

A Glass of Wine and 2 Zebra Cakes

Sure you have seen those Little Debbie Zebra cakes in the gas station, the little white cakes that are 50 cents.  Last night I ate two of them and drank/guzzled a glass of wine, the cheap, $3 stuff that tastes more like grape juice than alcohol.

Why?

Because I am firmly sitting on rock bottom here in Ohio.  As evidenced by the zebra cakes, there is an infinite amount of self loathing going on down here in the pit.  A pit so deep that the delectable coated cake and cream could not budge me at all.

Even as I laugh at funny that sounds, I know that at the heart of it....this is no joke.

There is no sugar coating it, things are rough right now.

For starters, I am falling apart physically.  I have some significant health issues which can only be resolved with a hysterectomy.  I'm not ready for that.  For three weeks, I have been fighting a tear duct infection.  We've both had serious sinus pain and headaches since we moved, along with stomach problems.  Our stomachs have not adapted to the hard mineral water we have to drink here and we both load up on anti gas/anti acid meds everyday.  Oh, and my hair has grown quickly but is falling out.

I suppose that stress could be a contributing factor.  We have been put under a huge amount of stress that we never expected and certainly never asked for either.

Our house still isn't sold.  We don't even have any prospects.  We did drop our first agents and now have a new one.  However, after several months of making it work financially, we just can't any more.  We had to stop paying our mortgage payments on the other house.  

I'd like to take a moment and have a full blown rant.  Why do people pass so much judgement when they find out you have a second mortgage?  We aren't the only people to get ourselves into financial trouble, lots of people do.  We chose to pay our debts instead of filing bankruptcy.  And, I would like to add, not in any time during those years or since have we ever had late payments and have never been delinquent on an account.  In fact, the majority of our $180,000 of credit card debt was from credit cards used/abused by one of my family members.  Instead of prosecution, we assumed the debt. And yet, we get judged for it now as if we weren't responsible.

Ok, back to the house.  We are now in the Hail Mary phase of this.  If we do not get our house sold in the next 75 days, we are looking at one of the following:  foreclosure, short sale, bankruptcy.  It's not looking favorably for us.  

When we moved here, we chose an extremely modest home with low payments and low utilities.  We did that so that we could recover from the 7 years of $2500 mortgage payments.  We wanted some breathing room so that we could do things like travel back home and eventually move back home and pursue more actively adoption or foster care.  Now, we face a mountain of uncertainty and what looks to be financial ruin.

Honestly, I should be in church right now.  If things worked out at all, I'd be sitting in church right now with my niece and nephew.  Keeping in mind that those two kids are my only link to family at all, you can imagine how heartbroken I am that they aren't here.  It was a fight and a juggling act to get them plane tickets.  Less than 24 hours before they were to leave, my nephew fell down a river embankment and tore something in his knee.  I'm incredibly thankful he was not hurt worse and that he had a cell phone on him, because he was alone.  His next week is going to be filled with doctor visits, tests and determining the need for surgery.  My niece didn't want to come alone.  So, I sit here alone.

A week ago, we realized that much of my husband's depression and anxiety had been from an anti depressant he was taking.  His new doctor here got him off of it and he has turned a corner emotionally.  Over the past two weeks, he has admitted to me that he had contemplated suicide to make things easier for me.  I seriously freaked.  We have multiple guns in the house and he knows how to use them.  I'm pissed that an anti-depressant caused so much depression.  It caused that and brain fog and physical pain and six months of me having to carry us both emotionally.  I'm glad to have him back.

Probably one of the more constant and hardest things is the lack of a support system.  We are in the middle of nowhere.  There is a 3 month wait for general healthcare and a 6 month wait for mental healthcare.  I'm the outsider here.  Everyone is friendly and that's great.  However, there's not much room for me inside of the established cliques and bonded social groups.  I've tried to reach out to people the way I have learned.  Invite ladies for lunch or coffee.  No go.  They don't do that much here.  It's a foreign concept to them.  I ask questions of church leaders and ladies at church when any kind of social event is happening.  Shut out.  I get told a lot that it's for kids or just basic info with no invitation.  They truly don't know how to accept a stranger.  And, I could get on a real soap box about this too.  If you can't bring an outsider or newbie into the church and make them feel welcome...well then you should probably not by witnessing to the lost.  A lost person and outsider have a lot in common and neither will make it inside your church if you don't make a place for them.

I honestly don't know when or even if things will turn around.  I hope they do, even though I struggle with where the hope is placed.  It's lonely here in this pit and I hate it, but I'll never make it out alone.  Left to my own doing, I'll contently set here trying to drown the pain in wine and zebra cakes.

I'm Fine!

We've been here in Ohio for just over two months and all I can say is "I'm fine."  If you know me, that's my go to when I either don't want you to know how I really am or I don't have words to describe how I am doing.  Maybe that's why I have ignored the blog.

Let me get straight to the good, the bad and the ugly of life these days.

The good.

We live in one of the most beautiful places.  We really have fallen in love with the area.  Nestled in the hills of south central Ohio, we have found that most people who have always lived here take for granted the God designed beauty surrounding them.

In any direction you drive from our little town of 800 people, there are rolling hills of evergreens and trees that are centuries old.  Each road going to and from any given town is wrought with twists and turns around old farm houses and fields.  Any drive you take is a leisure drive, which is indicative of the pace of life.  

There is a heavy Amish and Mennonite presence here.  Horse buggies and children on bicycles are staple on every road.  So are fresh produce stands.  These people know how to live off the land and we reap the benefits.  Rarely do we have a meal that doesn't include something from the markets.

We couldn't be happier with our specific location.  It is quiet and peaceful.  We love our house and have made it our home.

The bad.

We should be building a life here in Ohio, but instead we are stalled.  The contract on our KC home should have closed over a month ago and yet, we are back on the market.  Unfortunately, the activity on our home has slowed to nearly nothing with no good prospects at all.  

Each month, we are eating away our savings making the much higher payment on that house along with the payment here.  Everything is double.  Double utilities.  Double maintenance.  Thankfully, some of our friends have helped us along the way with taking care of the house and yard.  

We are at a complete loss on what to do.  We have lowered the price about as far as we can and far below market and appraisal values.  Everyone has freely shared their horror stories.  The ones where the house didn't sell for two years or they went bankrupt trying to get rid of a house or it was so stressful they divorced.  We've heard them and fear we are going to face some of the same demises.

The house really could sit vacant for years, we have no control over that.  But that house, holds a lot of control over us.

Remember, we moved in here to a mess.  We still appliances that don't work.  We are still limping along.  Not that you have to spend money to enjoy life, you don't.  However, when you are pinching pennies to make sure you don't get your lights shut off, it tends to damper what you can do.  Let's face it, even leaving the house takes gas, which takes money.

The other major problem with this house is living with a foot in two places.  That one is a little more difficult to explain.  It is hard to dedicate yourself to living life fully grounded in one place when so much of your energy is tied up in dealing with a home in another state.  We are certainly ready to move on and live more fully here.

The ugly.

I'm not fine.  I've done my absolute best to stay positive and lean on faith.  In fact, I've grown a lot through this process.  

Since even before we found out we had to move, I was dealing with a very depressed husband.  Life had just gotten too big for him and had broken him.  I'm not pointing a finger or putting him down, it happens to even the strongest people.  This entire process and leaving his family and friends has been far more than he could handle.  I found myself in a position I hadn't planned.  

As he shut down, I had to step up and do the heavy lifting.  The majority of plans and decisions for this move were placed directly on my shoulders.  In addition, what was left of my energy has had to be focused on taking care of him.  Not in a physical way, but in every emotional and mental way that I could.  One of the ways I have cared for him was bottling my own emotions.  

You know what happens to a guy when he sees his wife breaking down?  If he can't fix it, he takes it all on himself in the form of guilt.  Guilt for him was being in a position that forced us to move here.  I couldn't convince him it wasn't his fault, so I put the emotion away.

You know what happens to emotion when it's bottled up and the bottle gets full?  Yep, it eventually explodes.

So, here I sit, alone and broken and shaken at the vulnerable core of who I am.

I did have a friend visit, which was wonderful and I will right about later.  That helped!

I'm scared.  I'm scared of what the future holds for us.  Will my husband ever survive this depression? Will this house ever sell?  Will we ever be well again?  I don't know.

I'm forgotten.  I've had such minimal contact with friends back home.  I know how it goes.  Out of sight, out of mind.  That's hard.  My husband definitely has a better support system in his fmaily and friends.  At any given time, he has a list of people he can call and know he is loved.  Throughout the weekend, he touches base with his dad, all his siblings and a couple friends.  All while I sit fighting back tears.  I just don't have that.  If I get contacted by someone once a week, I'm lucky.  

Our previous church is an equal disappointment.  We were so excited to find them.  The 9 months we were there, we never had a complaint.  We loved the church and the people.  I felt like we had found a home and thought I had quickly developed some lifelong friendships.  Only a few people bothered to say goodbye and nobody has checked on us beyond the first week after we left.  Sad but true, they've even started to take us off social media...as if we are gone from their lives forever.  We are both a little heartbroken over that.  We never thought this church would be that way.

I'm anxious.  I'm trapped here all day, everyday.  I am an easy target for satan.  When my mind starts to go wild with speculation and suspect, I have no power to fight.  Things get pretty dicey after being here alone for hours upon hours day after day.  The current situation we are living is not healthy for someone with an anxiety disorder and a dissociative disorder.

I'm alone.  It's tough to make relationships when you are total outsider.  Even worse, trying to make a deep relationship.  I am a minority here.  The women work all day and aren't active outside the home in the evenings.  Not only that, but most women here already have a full plate of friends and family.

Not only are relationships difficult to find, but so is mental healthcare.  When I left KC, I lost my counseling and professional supports.  We both have tried to find mental healthcare.  Because my husband is having some medication issues, he finally got on a waitlist for a psychiatrist.  However, still no counseling.  I have called and emailed all the professionals within driving distance and have found that nobody who is either qualified or willing to take me based on the complexity of my diagnoses.  I'm not even sure what to do at this point.  

I'm lost.  Even though this whole transition has brought me to a place of growth in my faith, I now feel like I am losing ground.  We pray, nothing happens.  We sacrifice, nothing happens.  We beg, nothing happens.  I have gotten to the place where my cries toward heaven, "Lord where are you?" seem to fall right back down on top of me.  Where is God?  What is it that he is teaching us that we haven't learned yet?  How much further do we need to be broken down?  We are alone, about to be financial broke and hurting.  What else does he need?  We have very little except God and even he seems to be fleeting.  

We've found a great church here.  But with each passing Sunday, I find myself drifting further away.  I find myself feeling like a hypocrit, like I don't belong with people who really believe.  I leave in tears because I want God back in my life.  

I am fighting my very natural, very human, very inherited instincts right now.  The ones where I put both feet back in the world and turn away from this difficult pursuit of rightousness and holiness.  I find myself in a place where I would rather push the bible behind the bottle of vodka.  It would be a lot easier to walk away from church and back to a life without rules. 

Just like I couldn't have predicted what the last month would bring, I have no clue what lies ahead in the next month.  It doesn't look good.  

But....I'm fine.