THIS PAST MONTH SUCKS

Ok, perhaps all caps is unnecessary.
But truly come on universe.

I sat down with a friend yesterday for a cup of coffee (and wine, whatever, don't judge) and told her all about my life lately.
It's incredibly jarring.
I hate opening up to people because it's just very depressing.

Not that my friend would have in a million years expressed that. But really, when you are dealing with some crappy things in your life, you hate to scatter your crap everywhere. I almost want to lie or just omit the truth because it brings others down.

"How are you?!"
"My husband lies to me about his drinking!"
"Whelp see ya later."

See? Not very fun.

"How's the job hunt?"
"I've applied to over 30 jobs in the last 2 months and the only people who want to hire me offer $10/hour. I can't get a babysitter for that."

Or even more fun,
"How are your kids?"
"You mean the one that I just miscarried or the two that have been clinging to a respiratory virus for the past 3 weeks keeping us homebound?"

Who wouldn't want to hang out with me?

And I keep buying wine with the expectation of partially drowning my sorrows but then my damn husband drinks it all before I can.

I told my friend I want to start a church for broken people, for honest people.
I'm tired of fake.
I'm tired of lying.
I'm tired of people acting like everything is grand so they don't give a bad image to Christianity.
Well guess what? Anyone can have crap happen to them- good people, bad people, saints or satanists. It is inhuman to smile while suffering. That's why it's called suffering. Isn't it better to reach out to people instead, to say "I am hurting" and "I need help" instead of pushing them away and trying to rely on your own strength?
Whatever, I should take my own advice.
Instead I have been hibernating in my house so as to not cough on people, wondering if the bleak winter will swallow us whole for another 4 months, and whether or not I will reemerge with the will to try this all again, to put myself out there, to have hope.
I'm not suicidal. I'm not depressed. I'm just slowly being drained of optimism.

What I am, apparently, is a product of a controlling household. Who married a control freak. Who can't do anything without being told what to do or how to do it.
I ask God for guidance and have no way to proceed.
I'm in a maze and paralyzed by indecision.
I'm a bad metaphor.

I also saw a psychiatrist who said I don't fit any of the classifications for disorders. So I'm just anxious and depressed enough to be a joy to be around (ask my husband who leaves work early to go drink and not be around me), while not being quite crazy. He suggested some drugs for me but I cannot cope with side effects at this stage of my crazy. He suggested yoga.

Here I go trying yoga.

Can't Wait

On Friday this chub monster will be 2 years old.
I can't even fathom how fast the time has gone by.

Now that's a lie.
I worked for the past year, so that made time go by a bit quicker. Cut to me back as a stay-at-home mom, and I remember why I considered part-time work again.
The.
Days.
Drag.

I hold my own pretty well until after lunch and nap, and then I have no plans. We don't have disposable income so I can't go shopping or cart them around the mall. Plus they are loud and hate to be confined by strollers, so the mall turns into an epic screaming battle anyway. Which other shoppers don't seem to enjoy.
Go figure.

I feel the day creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep by. I text my husband to ask when he will get home. I try to come up with a game plan for dinner (hahaha and by game plan I mean I avoid it and internalize all the guilt for not having started some organic slowcooker meal 7 hours previous). I text my husband again to see if he was just kidding and he will actually be home sooner (he doesn't have an office job so some days he gets out earlier than others, but not really as of late).
I told my counselor I was depressed. Maybe I'm going through a midlife crisis, I ask her.
But the reality is, and she was observant enough to note and reply back, I'm going through a crisis of faith. I'm at war within myself about what I believe and what I know, what I feel and what I can see. It's not that I'm doubting my faith, because I am a Christian and I am not for one second doubting that. Where I am having issues is that I am a grey girl (my counselor called it like she saw it and it seems to fit). I see so many variants of grey. My husband, he is a black and white man. Things are very clear cut for him. He may not follow the tenants he believes to the tee, but it's either one or the other. I have a hard time with the grey. The pastor says one thing, and I think- what about that? He says that Jesus is above all names that can be named, including cancer and autism. When we believe in Him and take Him as our personal savior, we too are above all names that can be named. Then I think- what about my mother-in-law? She was one of the most spirit-filled people I have ever met. She lived a life of walking with God. She was diagnosed with cancer and decided to believe fully in the healing of Jesus, of being above all names that can be named. She passed away 2 months before our oldest was born. It was devastating. When pastors say that believing and following God's word will put you above all names that can be named including cancer, I want to shout out FALSE. Don't get me wrong- I believe in miracles and I believe in healings. Throughout the Bible people are getting raised from the dead and healed and cured. Nowadays people can still be cured and healed, perhaps even raised from the dead. But that, in my belief, isn't up to us. It's God's will. If He wants us healed, we will be healed. If it's His plan for us to die, then that's what's gonna happen. When pastors straight out claim that by His stripes we are healed and above the name of cancer, autism, etc, maybe they need to explain further. If they mean something completely other than belief equals full healing, then I need the sermon to be dumbed down for me. So instead of crying in the back of the church, I can understand what they are trying to get across. When a Godly woman like my mother-in-law doesn't get a healing, when she leaves behind 7 children who have already been abandoned by their father, and a pastor wants to say it is because she needed more gospel? I have something to say about that.
There are some other issues that I have racing around my head that I am trying to grapple with, about marriage, about my role, about direction, etc. I'm just a giant mess.
And then I wonder why afternoons are so hard, and I'm just struggling to make it through each day until bedtime.
I know that time will pass in a blink of an eye. Before I can say it, it will be a year from now, my baby will almost be 3, and I will wonder what happened. Maybe I'll have my life in order; maybe I won't. I don't know this. It's like when I was nearing the end of my pregnancy. I knew that I would eventually have a baby on the outside. I knew that I would have to get through labor to get to that point. When you are in labor, it is horrible. There is pain, there is doubt, wondering if this giant thing can even get out, will they be alright, will I be a good mom. The waiting part is torture.
As a society we hate to wait. In fact we don't wait. We need faster internet, faster social media. Kids want to grow up faster. We get extensions because we can't even wait for our hair to grow.
The waiting game is difficult.
And right now, I just have to cope with waiting. This rough season of life will pass. I just have to know that on the other side will be some clarity, some path, some purpose.