Friday, September 9, 2016
One year ago I felt lost and hopeless. I despaired. Six months ago I decided I could not go on living anymore, convinced I was destroying my family. I am better today, but I have not yet found the words for all that went on between then and now. For the six days I spent in the hospital. For the days weeks and months of therapy since then. Each time I sit down to write I feel a void, and a blank. Maybe all that transpired is just not meant to be put into words. Maybe I just start fresh with where I am now, in the arms of the God of comfort, working my way back to who I am in Him. Maybe eventually that time will have a voice. I don't know. While I am tempted to delete my blog posts that reveal my struggles, I realize that good or bad, it is part of my story. And so it stays. And I move forward.