If we were having coffee…
I would tell you how proud of myself I am. This week has been so hard. My mom was in the hospital all week and I was left to run our home. I cooked and cleaned and kept everyone updated on what was going on with mom. I was so overwhelmed and my anxiety was making me want to hide in my closet and just be in complete silence, but I held myself together. I did what needed to be done without complaining. I didn’t cry or let my anxiety crush me. I stood up to it, and I am so proud of myself.
If we were having coffee I would tell you that I don’t actually like coffee. I like hot chocolate.
I would tell you that I am struggling with my anger. It’s not that I’m having outbursts or snapping at people. It’s just that I feel as if I am constantly disappointed in the people in my family. I am disappointed in my dad for not taking the lead when my mom got sick and not realizing that I was. I am upset that he couldn’t pick up on what my anxiety tells were and know when to back off – like my mom can. I was disappointed in my sister for not stepping up like I did. I was disappointed in my mom for not handling her mom with compassion. All over I felt – feel – disappointed. I am having a lot of trouble dealing with my personal anger and trying to put it behind me like I should. It isn’t anyone’s fault that I feel this way, but I am proud of myself for containing it and not taking it out on them anyway.
If we were having coffee I would tell you that I wish I could find a college roommate already. I am freaking out a little bit.
I would tell you that I am so tired. Every time I move I need a deep breath to recover. My soul is heavy and needs to recover. As proud as I am about controlling my anxiety throughout this incredibly stressful week, it has taken every ounce of physical and mental strength I have. I am mad at myself. I am mad that I have anxiety and that it can wear me out so terribly. I wish that I could change it. I wish I could take this disease and expel it from the rest of me. It makes me mad.
If we were having coffee I would tell you that I got the new cut on my finger from opening a plastic container of mashed potatoes too quickly.
I would tell you that I am thankful for you. I am thankful that you listen to me and read the words I write with such genuine nature. I am thankful for your understanding ears and eyes. I wish I could see you now and hear the words you would say in response. I am thankful this tag exists. I am thankful for words and writing and thoughts.
This is a tag that is done as a community from bloggers all over WordPress. This is my first contribution, but I expect to do many more – especially if this gets a good response. It is very therapeutic to me to be able to share some intimate things with you outside of the context of my faith. Thank you for listening. I appreciate it.