I confess, I’m having a rough time. I was talking with my men’s coach and I was rather caught off guard when he said, “of course you’re feeling what you feel and you’re making all these bad decisions, it makes perfect sense”.
It didn’t make sense to me, because I was so mentally tied up on what’s happening now that I had forgotten what I’ve gone through in such a short period of time. What feels like it happened forever ago was actually only a couple months ago. My mind and my body haven’t had enough time yet to process and handle it all.
So he reminded me of just how much I’ve gone though in the last seven months.
I’ve lost friends and family, driven others away, nearly died a few times from the near-fatal car accident, had life-changing surgery that gave me a colostomy bag, had issues with (and at) work, isolation and depression and anxiety, a series of bad decisions that’s been undoing what I had accomplished before the accident that I’m having trouble reining in, and and and….
You get the idea.
It’s easy to get overwhelmed and overstimulated, and I am. My brain can only handle so much at any given time and yet it feels like it’s being constantly slammed with things both new and old.
It’s easy to be in a self-protective state of mind, and I am, where some of the bad decisions are designed simply to put an end to some ongoing things and make sure they never come back.
Of course, I realize that in hindsight, not at the time I’m actually making and acting on those decisions when it would be most helpful….
It’s harder to come out of that mode.
I do have solid friends I can count on to confide in, that helps.
God is merciful and gracious and He’s given me people who are also merciful and gracious.
Praise God for that. I wouldn’t make it otherwise.
Such a provocative title! I appreciate your continued honesty. I’m truly glad that you recognize that people-you-can-trust is a God-given gift.
I’ve just returned from a day-long visit with an untraditional family which appears happy in spite of many negatives. It centers on a single dad of three. He was a soldier for 15 years, serving in South Africa, Middle East, and Kabul. He was injured more than once in the course of duty, and he carries the effects of those wounds with little complaint.
Even before his last tour of duty ended, the mother of his children abandoned the family, including a very disabled daughter with cerebral palsy. She’s been diagnosed as never being able to sit without aid, to walk, or to speak. As her dad said yesterday, “She will be innocent all her life.” She is the center of his life.
Yet, he truly provides nurturing, affection. and provision for his other two children. They are intelligent, engaged, and multi-faceted at 10 and 12. It’s a delight to spend time with them.
Yesterday, he said that nearly all the soldiers he knew and served with are dead now, mostly by suicide. The ones who remain alive all say that if weren’t for the fact that there are people in their lives who totally depend on them, they, too, would be dead.
He looks at his kids and says, “If it weren’t for them, I’d be dead. They need me; I need them. They save me.”