"You started running right after the funeral."
A friend recently told me this....and he wasn't talking about my new found love/hate relationship with the SPORT of running.
He was talking, in fact, about my tendency to RUN from REALITY.
I became an instant pro.
..the champion of escape...
Nearly every time I start a post like this I think, well here I go again....everybody is saying, "Why can't she just get over herself. Move on."
I've been guilty of it myself. I see other people post these poor 'why me' statuses for weeks, months, or years after they've lost a loved one. I think, "Wow, they sure are having a difficult time." or "Wow, she sure is full of a lot of anger."
I don't post things for sympathy....as a matter of fact, if I posted every time I had a feeling I'd have little time for anything else. I feel most compelled to post when I feel the tug to do so.....almost like someone quietly whispering in my ear to get my feelings out in the open. Sometimes it's therapeutic. Sometimes it's enlightening, and sometimes it's down right scary. I never know exactly what is going to come out.
...now, back to running....
"You started running right after they buried her. You ran straight into the church looking for something and when that didn't seem to work out, you started running everywhere else." These are pretty accurate assumptions. The first year or so after Zeta died I ran to God and that turned into running to CHURCH and running to all the GOOD things and good people I could find. God saved me when I was young, he saved me during Zeta's life and he saved me after Zeta's death. I knew he would save me then too.
Thing is, I thought I was doing ok. Heck, I WAS doing ok.....so I guess I slipped.
I got overwhelmed with commitments. I became overwhelmed with living in a glass house. I became overwhelmed...period.
It all caught up with me.
I'm pretty sure that's the devil at work.
The more I became overwhelmed the more I wanted to find somewhere else to run. The more I wanted to run, the more TRAPPED I felt.
My house became my prison. Before I could even get in the door, the memories of Zeta's last year alive- spent at home, in her make-shift ICU room- would haunt me...and I'd just stand there...motionless. People who were close to me during Zeta's life and death unknowingly became haunted obstacles. They had done nothing wrong....however, they didn't always know how to respond or what to say, and I certainly didn't know what to tell them to do....So I just started to avoid them. Not always on purpose....sometimes I would hide away and try to stay to myself because I didn't want other people to see the pain...other times I would distance myself because I basically forgot how to communicate...or sometimes I just DIDN'T WANT TO COMMUNICATE....and still other times I wanted to disappear and forget that the outside world existed. I wanted to forget that I had a daughter who was born sick.... a daughter that fought to live every day.... a daughter that is now gone.....I wanted to forget the pain and I wanted to forget anything or anyone that knew anything of that existence.
Not such a nice thing, huh?
For quite a while I continued running.... I've made choices that have hurt my family, my friends, and myself....
In some ways I quietly tried to disappear into the background and go away.
In other ways I tried kind of self-medicating and fighting all sorts of addictions and poor choices.....In some ways I screamed out loud for help....but I refused help from anyone that loved me or tried to help me. This, in turn, led to some poor choices by people that cared about me.....and a cycle began.
Short of drugs, I pretty much managed to make a mess of my life. I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, if I had had access to drugs or anything else to destroy my life I would have done it and I'm pretty sure I would not be living today....The only thing that had a remote impact in my life during this time was my two boys. I can't deny that I haven't been the greatest mother, but on some days they were the only reason I got out of bed and the only reason I didn't pack my bags and move out of my house to hide and rot away in a cave far, far away somewhere.
There's a point in life for some people where you hit rock bottom.....
....a point at which you know you're either gonna get up and move on or you're just gonna lay down and die....because there is no other alternative..........
I felt like I reached that point one night all alone in a hotel room, in Augusta, while my baby fought her life in the hospital nearby....I knew that I couldn't stand another second .....that I was going to lose my mind or it was gonna get better....at that point doctors couldn't promise anything....I fell at the end of the bed and wept and begged for God's mercy. I cried out to Him and told Him I was through and I could no longer stand on my own......
...and He was there.....
He is the only way that I ever left that hotel room....and he is the only way that I made it through the rest of Zeta's life and to this very day....
There have been days that have been almost unbearable....some before that day....even before zeta was born...other days have happened since then....
As a matter of fact, there's no denying there have been a lot of hard days since May 7, 2013 - the day Zeta died in my arms.....
One of those days just happened recently.....
You see, it's been going well lately. I feel like I've had my head on straight. I'm back in my devotions and bible more like I should be... and I've been trying to build some relationships that have nearly been destroyed....It's wonderful and scary all at the same time. Wonderful for obvious reasons....scary because I have a tendency to over-analyze and wonder if I'm too far gone or not worthy of getting back to being the me i want to be....to standing strong in my testimony and sharing all the wonderful things God has done for me.....scary, because sometimes the feeling hits me....scary, because I never want to run (from life) again.....Those thoughts would consume me....
This particular day, I woke up struggling with all the what ifs.....what if life were different, what if I never get past this...what if everyone I've hurt hates me...what if I caused Zeta to die...what if I don't ever feel normal again....what if...what if....what if.....I was pretty sure I didn't want to run....but because that's all I've pretty much done for so long I didn't know exactly what to do....so I hid....and I cried....and I cried some more. I stood there alone.... crying....feeling hopeless, lonely, and ashamed. I knew I should pray. I was scared to pray. It felt kind of pretentious....pretty much because I kept replaying everything I had done wrong in my head....pretentious, because I could feel some of the anger and resentment arising from experiencing the loss of a child.....pretentious because I needed to prove I was bigger and stronger...and because things had been going pretty well....
After some time, the emotions got to me. I felt myself start to panic. Anyone who has ever experienced a panic attack knows what I'm talking about. It's not just something you snap out of....I knew I had to do something...less someone would walk in and find me acting like a hysterical person and wonder if I had really lost my mind....
I prayed.
I began to calm.
I continued to pray.
The anger led to silent tears. The panic disappeared. Sadness set in.
I prayed more....
I texted my husband and 2 of my strongest prayer warriors. The request was pretty simple....pray.
....and it happened....
the doubt began to fade....I could actually pray...with meaning...understanding....acceptance....forgiveness...the resentment and anger were no longer there....
.....what replaced it was grace and mercy....
Actually, what happened was I remembered and accepted the grace and mercy that had been given to me so long ago....
You see, God is always there....
There is no magic wand....life isn't always a fairy tale...
Hard times are gonna come....Pain is going to happen.....
BUT
God is there.
It's up to us to accept it.
James 1:6 But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind.
Jude 1:22 And have mercy on those who doubt;
Mark 9:24 Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, “I believe; help my unbelief!”
Isaiah 41:10 Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.
