One of the last times I wrote, I mentioned how I struggled on my anniversary. This was not meant to be disrespectful to my husband at all. It was never my intention, nor will that ever be. Instead, writing about it allowed me to get these heavy emotions off my chest and speak my truth.
Because if I can't say, "Today is hard for me" and be honest about why, even if it's not a popular opinion, then I would be doing myself a disservice.
And if anything, at forty years old, I don't have time for that shit now. I don't want to keep holding myself back. (Finally. Amen.)
Therefore, it's only fair to admit that yesterday, my birthday, was hard for me too. At least at times.
It started off so sweetly with my seven-year-old daughter waking me up excitedly with birthday cuddles and a surprise gift of the softest teddy bear that I've ever seen. (I swear it has therapeutic powers.)
But as the day went on, I found myself avoiding the birthday wishes coming through my phone and opting for a late morning nap instead. I left my phone on silent when I was at the beach too, but then with a glass of wine at dinner, I read through all the texts and Facebook posts, feeling the love and support from friends near and far.
In a few replies, I spoke more openly about how difficult life has been lately, and how much I'm struggling to remain strong in my faith and keep myself going through the many unknowns that this chapter is now presenting. When asked how I'm doing, I've found it's much more accurate to reply with the emoji of a girl holding her hands up in an IDK expression (🤷🏽♀️) instead of descriptive words and phrases.
Because what words are there to paint the picture of what I've been feeling?
Sad?
Scared?
Worried?
Frustrated?
Depressed?
Anxious?
Even these words don't fully explain all that I'm going through. Maybe a bit if you put them altogether?
I tried sharing a bit of my feelings and current struggles with my dad on my birthday night, but when the conversation became too honest and his protective nature stepped in, the tears finally made their appearance.
For years I struggled to cry, maybe because I still had hope and determination to push through during our diagnosis chase, but lately I've cried a lot, sometimes multiple times a day.
When I came down to bed, they started up again, and my daughter noticed, "Mommy, what's wrong? Why are you sad?"
I don't think I'll ever forget that on the night of my fortieth, I fell asleep cuddling my new teddy bear while to my daughter rubbed my back and told me it would be ok, as I've done many times with her, just wishing that all of these struggles would finally go away.
This is my truth.
Everything I'll ever share on here is the truth, even if it's just from my perspective and own experiences.
Life is really, really hard right now, and it has been for awhile. I swear I am trying so hard to see the light, but the darkness keeps coming in heavier every day.
I absolutely hate feeling this way, but I do. I know I'm supposed to be the strong one, the one keeping our family together, but I know I need help.
Whatever that may be; whatever can be offered.
Prayers, spiritual guidance, clairity, a miracle.
I'll take any of it, and all.