I feel like a papier-mâché shell. One that’s old and cracking, with pieces blowing away with each gust of life’s storm. Empty, all but for some dust and sand that’s happened to blow in through the cracks.
I once held life. Now I’m tired. Too tired.
If I could just rest. If they would just let me sleep for more than an hour at a time. If I… Could I…would it…
I get glimpses of life and love surrounding me and I feel they’re warmth. My baby girl, who can’t help but smile, giggle, and coo at 4 am. My youngest son, who loves to cuddle and tell me he loves me. My oldest, whose imagination is bigger and wider than space itself. My husband, whose love has surpassed these walls countless times.
Their warmth permeates my skin and I feel right again for an instant. “How could I have ever felt so disconnected and blue?” I ask myself as I sip hot coffee.
Then my coffee turns lukewarm as if to mimic my insides. My passion… My drive… I know you’re there. Why have you hidden yourself from me? Anger. Why can’t I just follow through? Why can’t I be the glowing, giving soul I know is in there somewhere? Then the look of betrayal and hurt in my loved ones’ eyes.
I can’t do this. I can live, but I can’t do life well. I have so much more to give and it’s blocked by the ugliness in my mind.
Lord clear the path for me to come out of this empty shell. Give me strength to hold and love others. Imprison the impatience and anger that are sisters to this depression. Shackle their lies. Water down and wash away their thick sludge. Hold me for I cannot hold myself.
Prelude to this post HERE