Life After 23

I made a pot roast today.  Not too exciting, but for me, it turned into a picture of my life.  I started with whole vegetables.  Everything had to be diced into little pieces, much like my heart this past year. But then I made sense of it.  I grouped the pieces together and it made a pretty picture. Making sense of all the pieces Alas, it could not stay this way.  I had to mix everything together.  It was hard work.  At first, all the ingredients didn't want to mix.  In the same way, I have a hard time coping with all the different aspects of my life getting all jumbled in my head.  It doesn't make as pretty a picture either. All jumbled up Then comes the waiting.  From the outside, it doesn't look like a lot is happening.  It's frustrating to wait for hours.  But inside the pot, changes occur in almost imperceptible increments.  Right now, it seems like my life is a mixed up pot of chopped up dreams, alone ...

Six months ago, I was on the brink of suicide.  So much had happened in so short a time that I could not cope.  I had struggled with depression for so long that in the face of new trauma, I could see no other way out.  By the grace of God, I stopped midway through the act. Today, I received the news that a close friend of mine lost his sister to suicide.  She had been struggling with depression for years and it finally claimed her life.  I have been to the edge and back again.  Now, I see a different side of it - the side of my friends and family had my decision that crucial day been fully realized. The question those left behind ask the most, I think, is, "Why?"  Why would a beautiful flower like her feel the need to end it all?  Why are the rest of us left here to suffer?  Why did God not stop her?  What was it that outweighed her desire to remain with those that loved her?  Was there anything we could have done to stop her? ...

Sometimes the tears just flow.  No one knows why, least of all me.  Logic says there is nothing in the world to cry about.  I have actually gotten good sleep for a change.  The pain has been manageable today.  The budget balances.  My husband loves me.  Cairo (my kitten) has been exceptionally well-behaved.  I have not had to speed clean the house in anticipation of "proper company." And yet the devil knows all the right moves to twist everything good about today into something discouraging.  I got good sleep, but at the expense of "wasting" my entire morning.  My pain is manageable because I took so much medicine last night that I'm still foggy-headed today.  The budget may balance, but we're barely making ends meet.  How can I be content in my husband's love when I feel so utterly inadequate to receive it?  I miss him when he's gone, but I'm too sick to be a good companion when he's home.  Why has Cairo been so ca...