Confessions

Your community group leader does not have it all together.  And I try very hard to not let all these things I deal with get in the way of me loving others or loving God, but sometimes, I just feel incredibly worn down and defeated.

Lately, things have been especially difficult.  I've had issues with anxiety and depression for as long as I can remember.  I began self-harming in high school.  It was never that severe, but still always present.  I didn't think the cutting was much of an issue, one of those "I can quit any time I want" mentalities, until I did stop.  I gave up cutting for lent one year and immediately replaced it with not eating.  I needed to do something to feel like I was in control.

Kevin was one of the few people who knew this was an issue.  When I'd joined the drama ministry he co-led, I presented to everyone that I had previously struggled with cutting.  That I had overcome it but I wanted to speak to teenagers about it, help them to overcome it and support their friends.  But soon Kevin knew I was lying, I was just saying what I wished was true.  And through his support as my best friend, I was able to stop for the most part.  I wasn't able to stop because of a respect for myself, because since it was never severe enough to do any lasting damage, I couldn't grasp what the big deal was.  But I could see that it broke his heart any time my arm had fresh marks, so I stopped at of a respect and love for him.

I was able to go two years without cutting myself.  There were occasional stressful moments where I would pinch my arm or take showers that were too hot, but for the most part, the physical damage had stopped.  My senior year of college, I had my own room and didn't leave it for several days.  I survived on a diet of granola bars and slim jims.  After one dramatic disagreement with Kevin, I cut myself again.  This was only months after getting birds tattooed on my back based on Matthew 6:26, celebrating the 2 years of beating my addiction to self harm.  I felt like a failure, completely defeated.

Things got better.  My roommate made me come out of my room and cooked me real meals, Kevin and I mended our issues and I didn't hurt myself again.  But the anxiety and the grey cloud of depression and the desire to hurt myself were always there. 

When I was single, it was easier to deal with.  I could stay in bed for as long as I wanted, I could take multiple showers a day which helped me deal with the anxiety, I could skip meals until I started feeling like myself again.  But getting married, Kevin knew my behavior wasn't healthy.  He knew the amount of sleep I needed every day, which I attribute to my frequent nightmares, was not normal.  He knew my lack of energy was not normal.  He wouldn't let me skip meals or stay in bed all day.  He wanted me to be better.

The hardest part of having him want me to get better was that it meant that I had to admit something was wrong and that it could be fixed.  I'd tried before, tried getting better sleeping habits, tried anti-depressants and I had just settled in to the idea that this was my lot in life.  This was who I was.  I will always have to fight the desire to hurt myself, I will always have to make myself get out of bed when there is a weight on my chest pushing me down.  There was nothing I could do.

But Kevin is convinced there is.  And lately things have been worse.  I've felt more tired and I see myself starting the little habits the lead to self-harm.  Turning up the shower as hot as I can bear, holding my wrist next to a hot tea cup for a few moments, little things.  And I am so tired of fighting this battle.  I'm so tired of feeling sick with anxiety but not being able to find a thing wrong.  I am so sick of having nothing sound more appealing than sleep.  And I am so sick of not being the wife that Kevin deserves.

I know God's been with me through all of this.  God's the only reason I'm still alive, the only reason I have hope and the only reason I get to enjoy happiness.  But Kevin has finally talked me in to seeing a professional, after my latest efforts at taking an anti-anxiety medication gave no real results, and we'll see where that leads.  And I'm hoping it helps and I'm hoping if it doesn't I don't get too discouraged because I am just so worn out.

Please pray for me, guys.  You're truly my family and I love you all.  Like a lot.  And this all sounds more dramatic than I want it to, but I'm just so used to all this crap that it doesn't feel like a big deal.  It just feels like its my life.  So just pray that it doesn't have to be anymore.

Valentine’s Day

 

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone. I wanted to write something today about love and marriage. My love and my marriage. I thought to write a bit about the history of Valentine’s day but quite frankly there seems to be so much to it that I decided not to touch upon it as it has little to do with what is on my mind.

As Valentines day approached this year I reminded myself not to be disappointed if Rob didn’t suddenly become the most romantic guy in the world. To not be upset if my day was not similar to what I grew up watching on soap operas. Breakfast in bed, a single long stem red rose on the tray, beautiful jewelry wrapped neatly in a tiny box, kisses and champagne with dinner at a swanky country club. This is the image I had in my mind when I was younger about what love would look like. I thought love would always be quiet, always kind, always romantic. This is not how it is and this is a problem. It is a problem because what I created in my mind will never be, it is not how life is. I wanted to say that I have set the bar too high, but that’s not quite right, the bar should be high, but it’s more that I associate love with fictional romantic tales. Maybe I need to see the romance in the fact that I have known Rob for 20 years and that we loved each other in high school and later came back together in a Romeo and Juliette kind of way. There were a lot of factors that could have kept us apart but our love was strong and finally we got married. I finally married the love of my life. But when the shit hits the fan from time to time and our imperfections and sinful nature shows it ugly face I want out for a moment, then I remember I fell in love over and over with this guy before and I will fall in love with him again. Rob is my husband, he can not be everything to me, he can not make everyday of my life better or easier, he can not make me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world every second of every day. Actually, he can make me feel worse than anyone, he knows my weaknesses and can strike hard at times. But I do the same. I know just where it will hurt him the most. This is something I pray about recently, I ask God to help me bite my tongue when I feel my only choice is to pick my husband apart, when I am so hurt I want to hurt him. I sometimes feel that Rob does not love me, because if he did, of course, things would be different, there would be romance and flowers everyday, he would rescue me from my hard day. But of course this is not true, he loves me and maybe the romance will come in time.

The other day I was annoyed. Annoyed with the highs and lows and the frequency of the lows. Life is hard. Raising children in hard, owning a house is hard, being a stay at home mom is hard - all these things are also incredible blessings but that does not mean they are simple. My relationship with my family of origin, with my kids, with my in-laws, friendships-old and new, commitments to church, to community, it’s all so hard when it all comes at once, like when you are standing in the ocean right where the waves are crashing. It’s just plain old hard to stay standing strong. I know, I know, I am lucky to be here living in this wonderful country-food, heat, shelter, all my creature comforts-however, in my life, my reality, the days can be hard. And when Rob walks through the door and doesn’t see my hard day I am immediately sad. When my time and my life don’t seem as valuable as his I am mad. His life is hard too though, I just forget sometimes. I talk to God while in my car, or in the shower, asking for strength to be better at it all, more patient, more loving, more forgiving and yet thanking Him for my blessings, and thanking Him for my journey and being thankful that, although I need to improve, to grow, to learn, I am still okay. Created in His image I am okay and He loves me. And God wants us to LOVE each other. And I do love Rob and he does love me. Valentine’s day might suggest I need a box of chocolates or flowers or dinner out to show me that I am loved, but I know, with or with-out those things, my husband is committed to me, he is loyal and he thinks I am beautiful, he loves me despite my imperfections and I love him, I am loyally committed to him, I think he is beautiful and I love him despite his imperfections. Today is just another day to love my husband and love God. I am home with my kids as I am every other day, and Rob is working. The sky is gray, the ground wet, the air cold, the romance meter down but I am still someone’s Valentine. Thank you Lord for this day, for my children and my husband, thank you for love.

Love you all too.

Krissy