It’s Been Nearly Eight Months…
Tomorrow will be eight months to the day since my husband was arrested…since my world got flipped on its head….since the most gut-wrenching, pain-inducing journey of my own life began.
You would think after eight months, I would be well on my way to healing from all of it, but today has been one of the top five of the worst days I’ve had since this started. It actually started last night. I just felt completely empty–nothing left to pray anymore. I wish I knew how many hours I’ve spent in prayer since this started. Granted, when you average it over the course of my 55 years, it’s a pathetic number, but that doesn’t help with the feeling of despair when it seems like your prayers are falling on deaf ears.
Sometimes, a good night’s sleep will help. I didn’t have such great sleep last night, although I cannot believe it was a lack of sleep that caused my crisis today. I got home from work for lunch wishing I had the nerve to kill myself. I am convinced when I’m like this that my husband would be much better off if I could. I just want to quit hurting. I can’t remember who talked about the “Dark Night” of faith; pretty sure I have already been through that once during this ordeal, and pray I’m not starting another phase of it.
This is made worse by the fact that I can’t share it with my parents. They are too old and infirmed at this point to dump more sorrow on them. My daughters and their families have dealt with enough pain from all of this. My siblings, at least the older ones, do not give a damn.
I have an appt. with my therapist tomorrow, but the sad reality is that he can’t fix me. Only God can and the wave that overtakes me is that He is silent.
I yelled at Him today, asking if He was real and where He was. Spent about 45 minutes yelling, crying and telling Him I had nothing and I was completely exhausted; that I knew I was a sinner and begging for forgiveness. Even told Him that if there was not going to be beauty from ashes that I’d rather He just kill me now.
I don’t know what His plan is. Sometimes, like today, I don’t think I’ll survive to see it.