Where are you right now…

Depression is debilitating. I can’t move, think, or feel anything beyond my grief. Meds sometimes work, but sometimes, you can only take so much to numb yourself before it’s beyond repair.

I’m in need of something that I don’t know. I’m so lost and bereft. Yes I have to live – my children and husband need me to live so that they too will have a will to live. The emptiness, however, is never ending. I need something to make this end, even for just a moment.

I write a lot on this page about having faith, etc. Right now I have none. I have no outlook about the future other than we live, then we die. We live well to make our bodies feel safe, clean, content. Beyond life, I can’t see the hope that there is another life after this.

Yep, I am in a dark place. I’m not suicidal. I’m not going to hurt myself. But I’ve become disillusioned and jaded. I’m hopeless and cynical. I’m angry all the time and bitter. It’s not a good life, and I hate it. I miss my other self. I just can’t jump the stile to go back to the other side.

My family went on a vacation far from our usual spots. It’s very quiet here. Beautiful and peaceful. It has also shown me how lonely I am. Even with my husband, I’m alone in my grief. I need help, but don’t know where and with whom. I can’t even begin to pray, but I’m trying.

I hope I can shake off this despair. No I don’t watch the news or read it. I keep looking at the sky to find something to lift me. It’s a beautiful sight, but I’m in so dark that I can’t see the lights.

Pray for me for mercy and hope. I am so low. I hate my pity party, but I cannot believe how this evil burden is holding me down so heavily. Pray and hope for myself isn’t possible right now, but I will keep trying. Your help will be most graciously appreciated. ❤️❤️

Whatever it may be, it can be better…

It’s been a long time since I’ve written. In the last few weeks, I’ve lost two dear friends, in particular, a dear close friend to cancer.

My sweet friend died from cancer after battling this beast, as she called it, for almost three years. Elle, as I will call her, and I didn’t really see eye to eye for most of the 13 years I’ve known her. She and I are much too alike. We have much in common, but we have learned to manage our friendship through the years.

She was diagnosed with cancer just a month or so before I lost my daughter. Thereafter we found solace in each other’s pain and despair. She has learned to hear and feel my pain. I have learned to marvel at her strength and determination. Near her end of life, I would offer her prayers and encouragement, hoping it would give her peace and comfort.

When she passed, her sweet family told me I was brave. I’m not sure what they’re referring to, but it’s likely because I lost Allie and I’m still walking. I don’t feel brave; I only wanted to help Elle.

The truth of the matter is that Elle has been helping me with my grief. When Allie took her life, I was so lost. I was looking for a purpose, and Elle reached out just when I was searching for something. I know I felt guilty I was not there for Allie. I know I regretted that Allie didn’t know I was there for her. My friend gave me a purpose. She allowed me to pour my energies of wanting to help Allie into helping her navigate this cancer beast.

Now that Elle is gone, I’ve been bereft. I’ve felt lost because I’m not purposeful to anyone. I am still involved with our diocese, but that is going much too slow. I have had to look at my grief again, and I just hate facing something so awful.

I’ve found this past Sunday a path back to my faith. I found He is still there, just waiting for me to find. I’ve allowed anger, fatigue and discouragement overwhelm me. The rosary and the prayers that have lifted me for a while had faded when Elle faded away. I allowed these beautiful and uplifting gifts to fade away, and I became jaded.

I know it’s easier to wallow in our despair. I talk about this often here, yet it’s taking me a while to dig out of my hole of self pity. I’m still trying to ride up from the despair, hence it took a while to go back to my writing.

I’m still not fully inspired. I’ve been crabby. I’ve been impatient with myself. It hasn’t been fun for my poor family. I saw this, so I’m trying harder.

At mass yesterday I saw a glimmer of hope. It was a song that was sung that tugged on my heart. I don’t remember the song, but it was beautiful. In that moment I felt my faith again. The feeling of being deeply comforted was there once again, the same feeling I had when I was talking with Elle and other people I’ve met in this journey.

I miss my friend, and I miss my girl. Elle’s passing brought back all the sadness knowing my sweet baby girl is also gone, forever gone. I will miss my friend and hearing her laugh and cry. I remember all the beautiful things she told me about my girl, how Allie came into her dreams to tell her that it was all going to be ok, her family would be ok. Elle told me what a beautiful angel I have, that my husband and I raised an amazing soul, and that she is making her love grow in so many people.

I will forever cherish my time with Elle. I will forever hold her and my sweet baby girl in my heart. God is good, God is merciful, and God is loving to allow me the chance to have these two beautiful souls in my life.

Leap of Faith

I hear a lot about people’s pains. I find in my new life that my journey has made me seem approachable to many, like someone who can empathize with their troubles. I don’t mind talking and listening to those who need to talk, for the most part, because anything I can do to help someone is important. I also do see that for too many times, people like to talk and talk and talk. They don’t hear what I’m saying. They don’t want to stop talking about their pain, their loss, themselves.

Herein lies the fence that keeps us gated from the path to self discovery. We like to stay where we are because you can define the place you’re in – sad, depressed, alone, unhappy.

The fence is keeping you from looking at yourself and knowing you have to stop being selfish. The fence is evil because it keeps you from learning about yourself. Self discovery and self examination can be painful – often more painful than where you are now. So, many of us think we have to wallow in our misery. Some of us want to wallow in the dark.

God is on the other side of that fence. He is prodding us to see how life will be better again. He asks us to stop thinking about our pain and instead, we have to think about our place in this world. What can we do for others? What can you do to show others that God is there for them?

It is uncomfortable to move on. Jumping over that fence asks much of us. It requires us to not be selfish, to be more patient, and to be the kind of people Jesus wants us to be.

But it is in allowing ourselves to be fully open to Jesus in our hearts and spirits that we find peace, comfort and yes, purpose. We all have a purpose in this world. We all have so many things we can do for so many. Instead of what we want and what we think we need, you will find in Jesus the happiness that makes all those needs and wants so trivial. The peace and strength and purpose will be clearer, stronger, and more satisfying.

Jump that fence. Work on self examination. Find your purpose.