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.