Ah, another lonely night with a head full of tears I refuse to release.  Another disappointment.  Another long day.  Another worn apology.  My heart and head are so full that despite the exhaustion, I cannot sleep.  Yet, I am alright because that is what I tell people when they ask. 

It is always going to be difficult with him and to be honest I dread the long road ahead because with our children, my life will always be intertwined with his and it still hurts so bad at the stark coldness of all that is lost.  I hate this life I have found myself in.

On a very different note, I am beginning to plan for a life of financial independence and stability and although I have a degree (in English) there is not a whole lot out there I feel will suit what I am looking for.  Therefore, I have decided to enroll in cake decorating classes (a recent hobby I have enjoyed) to see if I can somehow do something with that and if it turns out not to be a reliable source of income, then I have at least furthered a talent.  Classes start the 11^th.

"My life is a gift, my life has a plan"

I have been in my children’s room for the last hour trying to get their restless bodies to sleep.  Usually I grow frustrated and to be honest, annoyed at the length of time that seems to be required some nights to get my two rambunctious little balls of energy to sleep.  Tonight however, I figured I would try singing church music to them as usually I didn’t because there was no point when it wouldn’t be heard over the screaming, my two year old would tell me to stop and other various circumstances. 

It began with me singing the first couple of songs that came to mind, but after several minutes I was quickly shuffling through the songs I knew by heart.  And heart, is exactly what this music was.  Although both children were awake, they were quiet, respectful participants as they listened to the words about Jesus and our Heavenly Father.  I would often times have to pause and I tried to recall a lyric or melody and I would hear the soft whisper of my two year old encourage with, “more?”

My seven month old daughter held my hand as I sand song after song and I was so touched with the peace that filled their small, toy crowded room and I felt sure there were angels among us, ministering to my babies and watching the praise we gave our Lord.  I felt an overwhelming sense of blessing and I knew it were moments like these that made me a mom.  It was for these special lessons that I was blessed with children, despite the odds. 

What a powerful medium music can be.

Mt. Evans

Today I had the pleasure of going to the mountains.  We drove up Mt. Evans and I was reminded of all the passages in the scriptures that spoke of prophets going up to the mountains as they were a temple to the Lord.  The Earth has a spirit and has been sanctified by God.  Mountains are often traversed less than other ground and remain more untouched by the ills and needs of the human populace that leaves destruction in their waste.  It makes sense then, why this is an acceptable place of sacredness to converse with the Lord and receive revelation.  I also couldn’t help but see the metaphor: when one makes the effort to struggle (emotional, physical, mental, etc) to the top one has a clear, unobstructed view of the area around the mountain.  So it is in our development to draw unto the Lord.  The more we struggle, push and climb, the more of a view is afforded us. 

Another really interesting thing that stood out to me on our drive was the bristlecone, a tree that grows twisted for a stronger foundation against extreme winds.  These pines are the oldest single living organism on earth, capable of living for thousands of years.  Although I have not lived for thousands of years, I felt very much like these trees.  Due to the sharp, harsh environment I live in and due to the trials that surround me, I have had to twist and turn my understandings, desires and hopes in order to survive the torment my body endures.  These trees are slightly dwarfed (yes that was a short joke) and not exactly beautiful to look at, but yet your eyes are drawn to them and you have a sort of respect in your heart for their survival ability.

Duh!

I feel silly for not recognizing this myself, but talking with my mom she pointed out that only within the last week have I stopped breast feeding, so this depression is likely due to the huge hormone change my body is going through.  I feel a little less like a crazy person when there is an explanation for feeling as crappy as I do.  So with that new knowledge, I know an end is in fact in sight and I am not doing anything wrong.  My carnal body is just blocking my faith, insight, hope, love etc.  Hopefully brighter posts are to come.

6/6/13

Another hard night tonight.  I am fighting some depression and more than ever I am just tempted to give in and give up.  Yet, this will never happen as I have two beautiful children who count on me daily, which means no matter how much I am splitting at the seams, I need to hold it together.  I just want to feel alive; to feel like I am not just surviving, but living.  I am at the point where I have no idea how to fill my cup or recover from all that I feel is lost. 

Morning

The light touches my eyes and I remember the heavy hurt of the night before.  My heart still rages in anger as the memories try to hold me to my bed.  I hear my children screaming, meaning there is no time to lounge awake slowly.  The sun warms my face as I stretch my stiff arms, and arch my sore back.  It is another day.  Another day to try and forget. 

I stumble onto my awkward, dry feet, thinking of the lotion I desire to put on them if only I had the time, but the piercing wail of my daughter shoots me into action on my course to motherhood for another day.  I peek my head into her room as I finish pulling a shirt on over my own head and can relate to the miserable face and cry she issues forth.  I pick my chubby, bright blue eyed doll from her crib and rock her in my arms, wishing I too had someone to rock and comfort me.  I let the thought go as quickly as it came because now that the babies are up, the work must commence.  Mouths to feed and hand s to fight away.  Bottles to clean, pure childlike white skin to clothe, beds to make and games to be had.  My needs don’t matter at the moment. I only hope that tonight when the loneliness encircles me with its taunting arms again, I am able to at least brandish a little hope to make a restful sleep possible. 

My children rub their eyes with their little fisted hands and I find my fingers rubbing the tired from my eyes as well.  Fresh demands are given to me from my expectant son and vocal whining daughter.  I force a potty time and pull the rat nest of hair on my head into a bun as much as I can before trekking downstairs to begin the fight of mealtime.  I am tired.  I am always tired.  I love them so much though.  They are all I have left in this life, so once again, I put myself away and I be what they need as best I can. 

Tonight is sadness.  I feel like I have been doing pretty well, holding things together during the day to then sort through the quagmire of emotions I have within me at night.  Tonight though, there is only one emotion and its heaviness is surprising.  This is my life.  27 and this is where I stand.  For those of you who ever read my story, you know there was another option besides Josh while I was dating.  Tonight I have indulged in the what if game and while choosing that other person would not at all have been an easier life, it would be one where I know I would at least still be loved by this individual.  Tonight the mortal side of me yearns to be held and loved.  No, no regrets about my choices and my past, but what if tonight I didn’t have to be alone.  What if tonight I could be someone’s special someone.