Healing

Rejection after rejection washes over me, pulling me deeper and deeper into this vast hole. I can't seem to be able to climb out, even when I have help from my 6 foot 4 inch love.

Today is a day where it just hurts. All the past rejections flood over me, wash through my mind. I can picture each of them vividly. The phone calls, the crying, the emails, the endings.

Healing hurts. Sometimes it feels like it is an impossibility that I will be whole again. That I will believe, surely and truly, in a strong and real God again. That I will be able to put one foot in front of the other.

That I will trust myself again.

 Because, really, it feels like I am in a cocoon I have created for myself. I am trying so hard to keep myself safe, to keep my little family safe. The punches keep coming and I just am trying to hold it together enough that we, at least, can be.

 Today is a day where it feels like a pounding, again and again. Most days are not like this. The pile of the last 3 years feels heaped on top of me today. Pushing, pushing, pushing. 

 Today is a day where my life seems bent into an unforeseeable angle. Healing hurts. I feel unsure of how to even keep on keeping on. 


There are millions of people in the world suffering more than I. I know this, intellectually, but my emotions speak a different story. A story that causes me to stop in my tracks and just...sit.

 Today is a day where I have again medicated myself with sugar and mindless watching because I am at a loss. I hate it, really, that this is my go-to thing to do. It doesn't make me feel good, really, but it is a short term solution.


And, right now, the long term solutions don't seem to be in view.

 Sometimes, I try to imagine a life that is different, but this is it, my life. 

But healing hurts. I feel worn down and bruised. Broken and even abandoned.


Intellectually, I know that I will, we will, make it through this. We have made it through horrors in the past. We have emerged from the ashes before, more beautiful than we were going in. We have marched on, even when it seemed like all hope was fading.


Sometimes, I feel like I can't even talk about 'I' because this life I live is so about 'we'. The we is the constant that I have with me, standing beside me, hugging me in the brokenness, walking with me when I can't stand on my own.


I want to heal because of this 'we'. I envision the rising from the ashes of this brutal journey, but I never know what it will look like. I don't know what I want it to look like. 


Healing is painful and raw. The mountain feels insurmountable today.