More like, acquaintances.
Friends
Maybe, really, the darkness is more of an old abusive stalking ex who never quite got the hint that you don't want anything to do with them.
I'm so sick of being sad. I have moments of joy, of wonderful, of awesomeness; but then I also have these deep, almost deafening moments of sadness. When I just want to cry, but I'm so sad that the tears won't even come out.
It's like, the ball of emotion that is stuck in my chest won't move. It won't budge. It has simply taken up residence there and is reaching it's dark black tendril fingerlings into and throughout my soul. Weaving the darkness of it's being around the life.
It's not all consuming. Oh no, not this one. If it were all consuming, I may not even know it's there. If it were all consuming, I wouldn't know that it's possible to be happy; or I may think that I was happy-after all, if I didn't know better, how would I know?
But no, this is not all consuming. This is a divide and contrast of light and dark, of happy and sad, or overwhelming joy and deep plunging depression.
No, this illness wants me to know it's here.
It wants me to know that it has taken up space and residence, and no matter how many times I send an eviction notice, it finds a loop hole, and digs in a little deeper.
No. This is not a transient being on it's way to nowhere land. This darkness, whom I have been battling for most of my adult life (if not all of my adult life) has slowly been working it's way, disguising itself, almost, chameleon like, as part of me. It took up residence--perhaps it started out as a transient, looking for a place to belong--inside of me. By settling early in my adult life, I gave up on being happy. By putting what I thought was more important things first, I gave up on me.
I didn't know it wasn't normal to cry all the time.
In my family, that's just what we do.
It's normal to us.
I feel sad/happy/unknown--cry.
I know there are things in life that knock me down, and give me a little bit of push back, and make life difficult for a bit. I know that we have to go through trials in this life, so we can learn all Heavenly Father wants us to learn. I also know that he wants us happy.
My own decisions in my early adulthood made me unhappy, and for the past 16 years, I've been trying to chase those demons away. Trying to weed out the tendrils of darkness that I have allowed to weave into my soul; only to fill the empty spots where the darkness was, with bulky scars that remind me what was there.
Forgiveness.
I just lectured my daughter on this subject.
She just gave a talk in church about this subject.
I've lectured myself about this subject.
Why is it so difficult for me to forgive myself? I've forgiven many many people who probably were not sorry for their wrong doings. But as much as I think I have forgiven myself....I have not.
Why can't I allow myself to heal?
Why must my mind constantly let me know that I have done wrong in my life, and despite the fact that I have made as much restitution as I can, my mind will not stop.
The scars are too deep.
The scars are too tender.
My Imzadi is amazing, and he loves me for who I am, and I tell him when I'm sad, and he is amazing at holding me through the pain. He fills me with everything I've always wanted and longed for; and he gives me willingly and freely to me-even when I'm my most dark and hateful. He is the salve for my scars. He is the healing dressing over the fresh wounds that reappear even though they are decades old. He feels my darkness because he wills it away from me and into his being, just so I can get a moment of relief. I selfishly let him take it, because in those moments I'm ok.
Sharing love is easy. Love, and joy, and happiness are good feelings.
Sharing the vulnerable feelings of sadness and hate are ugly, and raw, but they let him know who I truly am.
Sharing my soul with him, and him sharing his soul with me is THE MOST amazing feeling on Earth. It is a love that I KNOW comes from divine design.
Without him....I just don't really know where or how I would be.
My thoughts turn to my children now, and the thoughts in my head go strait to "OH, so they don't matter?" The darkness plays this game. It tries to destroy everything.
EVERYTHING
I refuse to let it.
Sometimes I can't help it. Some days-I just crumble.
There have been way too many of crumbling days lately.
But, when I look at my children, and I see them smile, not just in their faces, and upturned lip corners, but the true sparkly eye smiles, I also feel that happiness.
I am lucky to be able to sit and in my darkest hours, when the darkness is peeling back scab after scab exposing fresh scars that were long lost, to be able to reach out with my soul, and feel the love of those around me.
I know I'm lucky.
I know that I have it so good.
In
This
Moment......
I know.
