I don't know how to do this. And I don't know why I'm writing about it. Or, maybe I do. Maybe it's because I can't form the words, can't speak them because they're blocked by the lump in my throat and the pain in my soul.
I just know my heart is breaking and it's hard to breathe. The tears keep coming, debilitating grief coming in waves, one right after the other until I feel as though I'm going to drown in it. It subsides for a while and then hits again with a thought, a memory, a song, a smell, a photo......
It's been after me for months. Coming at me in dreams or at random moments in my days. Pain that cuts so deeply, it takes my breath away and cuts straight to my core. Moments where I'm instantly taken back to a moment in time when a child's heart was bruised forever, moments of anger and fear and instability......memories of times that I thought I had long ago gotten over come unexpectedly and throw me off-balance for days at a time.
And then, just as suddenly, I'm ok again.....for the most part. I can smile and laugh and be more of the person people are used to me being. I can go about my days, ignoring the uneasy restlessness that steals the peace in my soul and just won't quite go away. Until the dreams come back, sometimes moments from long ago relived........sometimes nightmares so real that I wake up shaking, out of breath, my heart beating wildly and my body literally dripping in sweat. I'm always running from something, frantically trying to escape.....and I just want them to stop. I beg for them to stop, the pain and the memories, the sleepless nights and the nights of less than peaceful sleep.......but they keep coming back.
It's been escalating since December, coming and going in those unexpected waves. But I've always been strong, always been able to handle it in the past......"the past is the past & it's time to move on" has worked quite well for me over the years. Package all those memories up, seal them, and place them out of the way where they belong.......but it seems the box is eroding and can't hold them in and I don't know what to do.
I want to do something about it. Stay busy. Get my mind off myself and serve others. Pray harder. Spend more time in the Word. Give it to Him over and over and over again.
But it won't go away.
Take it from me, Lord. Please. I don't want it.
And yet, it's here. I thought there was something wrong with me. A lack of faith. A lack of thankfulness from all that He's saved me from. Something in my life causing Him not to hear my prayers.
I confided in a friend months ago and she suggested that perhaps I'd never really dealt with it, I just keep pushing it down, out of the way, pretending it's not there. I've never really been healed. I wasn't sure I wanted to be if it meant struggling with these memories, this very real pain, one more moment. I pushed it aside, pushed through the ups and downs of the unexpected waves, waiting for the Lord to take this cup from me and dealt with it the best I know how. Working out like crazy works quite well for me as an outlet and a way of coping, a way of ignoring this thing that chases me so doggedly. I was doing good for a while.....until he used my inability to accept my limitations, resulting in an injured ankle, to remove my escape route and it all came rushing back and the cycle started again.
Why won't you take this from me when I'm trying so hard to live for You, to glorify You, to praise You for all You have done for me?
And then, Monday I visited Faith Barista. and her latest two posts left me stunned. I sat at my laptop and chills ran over my body, tears ran down my face, as I found someone else in the exact same place I've been. I read the posts over and over again, the Lord literally speaking through her words, her story, and I knew I couldn't push it away anymore. It's time for me to stop running, to let myself feel the pain & feel the hurt for as long as it takes......it's time to let Him do what He needs to do to bring me out of this storm and allow the healing to begin.
I didn't know how quickly the next storm was going to hit. I didn't know how fierce it was going to be.
Tuesday, my Granny was taken to the hospital and I knew. I've known all along, in the back of mind, in the places I try to ignore, that these memories, this onslaught of reliving painful wounds, was part of getting me ready to lose her. And I've known that losing her would tear me apart in so many ways and viciously rip the scabs off those wounds that never healed.
The doctors recommended she be moved to a hospice facility yesterday, and today she is there, rapidly deteriorating. I can't stop crying. My eyes are puffy and swollen Everything in me hurts. I can't sleep. I can't eat. My head is throbbing constantly, so badly that it seems is might explode. I feel like I'm being torn apart from the inside out.
It's time for her to go, but......
I can't do this.
No words could express what she means to me. She was the good part. She was the one who gave me love, unconditional love. Her home was a safe place, a place to find stability, a place to feel loved. A haven from explosions of anger and screaming, fighting and things being thrown, harsh words being thrown around like toy balls with no thought of the harm being done, a place to find rest from my out-of -control world. She gave the happy memories. God loved me though her until I found my way to Him.
I can't do this.
But there's no stopping it.
And so, here I am. Hurting and scared to death. Scared of saying goodbye. Scared of letting go. Scared of what's going to come at me after my mind makes its way through the good memories surrounding her.
And here it begins.
Ready or not. And I'm so completely not.