Nothing Good About This Funk …

Lately, I’m an absolute mess. Would you have guessed? Can you tell that I’ve been angry? That I yell too much and too often. That even as I’m raising my voice, I feel unheard?

Would you know that I’m overwhelmed? That I’m struggling? And if I’m not struggling with my anger, there’s a pretty good chance I’m either crying because I was angry, or crying for some other reason: a song; a book; a show; my kids are being terrors; my kids are being sweet; my clothes don’t fit right; I’m frustrated; imperfection; perceived failure; a spat with my husband; a zit; anxiety; a thought.

I’m a hot mess.

And I’m sorry. Actually, I’m more than sorry. I’m a torn up mess over it all.

Its no exaggeration, I am a hot mess express. And there are several possible explanations …

• I’m overwhelmed by my inability to say “No” as I keep taking on more than I can handle.
• I am right smack in the middle of a medication change for my anxiety (withdrawal from an SSRI can be brutal)
• I have PCOS and am struggling with those symptoms ON TOP OF the above-mentioned med changes
• I may be in peri-menopause (on top of the PCOS and med changes)
• I have a lot on my plates (mental, emotional & physical) and need someone to share all that with.

But truly, my guess (and the guess of the few who know what has been going on in my bubble) is that all of these things combined with my constant feelings of “guilt” for my anxiety, my imperfection in juggling these plates, and for “allowing” myself to get angry have me overloaded with emotions and weight I just cannot bear on my own.

Y’all, I am not Superwoman. I do not “have it all together all the time”. I am struggling right now like I’ve not struggled in a long time. Even on good days, I’m still not my best version of me and y’all … it sucks. I find myself staring at a reflection of me and wondering where I went.

And then, when I add to it the guilt I feel for needing a soft touch, for failing to be the strong one, for having to rely on medication at all, for being upset over things that I cannot change …

I keep trying to remind myself that this too shall pass. That once we get things figured out, with my meds and my hormones, it’ll all get better. That even in my most shameful, disastrous moments, Jesus is right here, holding me up when I’d otherwise fall.

There is no way, without the grace of God, that I could possibly make it through my days of working from home, homeschooling, coordinating child chaos, cooking, attempting to clean, karate instruction, homeschool outings, church, groups, Service, medical appointments, with a final small dollop of a social life.

And by His grace, here I am. Standing in the middle of the mess, trying so hard not to be a horrible mama; to maintain my marriage and keep a happy husband; to help others with things I know I am able to do; to serve my community through Christ; to get some exercise; be a top-notch employee; share my time; be a great friend; not get my feelings hurt; keep my expectations low; not let my house look like it’s been hit by a tornado every moment of the day; not feed my family junk every meal; educate my children and raise them up to be God-loving individuals; avoid panic attacks; and not lose my shit.

I’m just here, trying not to lose my shit.

I am trying to put my best foot and face forward. Still trying to give everyone the best version of me. But please, if you see me stumble, forgive me. If you catch me with my tears, please forgive them. If you happen to witness my angry outburst, oh, please forgive me. Please don’t hold it against me. Pray for me. I’m trying to hold it all together.

This is just a season.

And if you’re in a season … if you’re struggling too … please know you are NOT alone. I promise you, even if I’m not the one that can relate to your specific struggle – there’s someone out there who can.

I know now that we weren’t meant to do life alone. Not the good seasons or the bad seasons or the really, really ugly seasons. Jesus made it clear that we are to love one another. To build community. And even though I still struggle with sharing my burdens and allowing someone else to hold my hand – I’m here to remind you that I see you. I see your struggle and your hurt. And you’re not alone. We can build this community. His church isn’t limited to the four walls wherein we each sing praises on Sunday morning or listen to a sermon by an amazing pastor (well, my pastor is pretty awesome). WE are His church. We are the community. And it’s up to us to make those connections.

Leave me a note and tell me how I can pray for you. ❤️ We’re in this together.