Time Moves too Fast
It’s too ironic. The days of this month have flown by, and yet my recovery and therapy is moving so slowly. My understanding of who God is and how He feels about me is going even slower.
I have this dread of five years flying by and me still being as nearly screwed up and unfaithful as I am right now. I’ve said it before–I’ve never felt so old. Before my husband was arrested, we went swimming several days a week, went out of town for weekends and traveled. Since the arrest and the loss of the major part of our income, we can’t afford to swim anymore or travel like we used to. I still spend several hours in my “paralysis chair,” although that is getting better, but I’m still a long way from where I should be.
Life-jolting trauma is difficult to overcome. When you throw in being in therapy for my own personal nuttiness, it’s even worse. Getting past what happened last summer was going to be tough enough, but I have a big, old, thick layer of baggage from my past thrown on top.
I had a great session with my therapist today, but I still feel like a boat that’s been pushed away from shore and has no rudder. I never know when the wind will blow me onto the rocks of despair, onto the beach of cautious optimism, or crashing into a storm of anger. It’s unsettling to say the least.
I asked my therapist today how it was possible that my negative mood could be stronger than God’s voice. He said he thought I was hearing God’s voice, just not in a way that I could recognize.Guess what? That is still frustrating.
I don’t know who I am and where I’m going. Eradicating the bad stuff in me that I’ve known for 40 years is great, but when I pull that out of who I am, there’s a gaping space left and I don’t know what will fill it.
I haven’t resolved anything with my siblings–haven’t forgiven them and I’m still trying to figure out how to do that. I’m afraid I don’t have enough years left to enjoy after all the pain, heartache and therapy subsides. They’re flying by so fast.