I feel like I have been caught in a whirlwind of insanity. From old jobs to overseas trips to new jobs to first birthdays, second first birthday parties, and holidays...oh the holidays...I literally feel like I have been robbed of Christmas...everything that made it special for me just wasnt happening. I feel like everything happened so fast. DS's second Christmas and I barely remember it...sometimes I feel like I barely remember me...
DH and I had a huge talk tonight about confidence...finding it again. Renewing in myself the things that makes me happy. Maybe I should find a good conversation with my dad over some coffee...maybe I should work out more and bring back that old body...I feel like I have spent so much time investing in my son and family and job that the old me is trapped inside of a glass box that she is screaming to be released from...I can see her, remember her, how fun and creative and silly she was...but I can't touch her...I need a giant ax of confidence to break through and get her back...We talked tonight about me listening to the bull that I tell myself...I mean, I have always had this inner not-good-enough/not as good as her debate going on, but lately I have really started listening to it and it's been a poison to my soul...a cancer to my being. I have stopped stopping to enjoy little parts of life...I feel like my mind is either a giant blank or filled with the headaches of overwhelming doubt. This dark night of the soul is not who I am. But how do I end the refrain I keep playing over and over again? How do I make it stop and hear a new song...I haven't felt freedom in myself for so long. I guess I need to realize that I can be a mom and be a wife and still be me! Just because I am a mother now doesn't mean that I automatically deny all of the parts of myself that I used to enjoy. I just have to re-prioritize...
Thank God for my husband. I continue to say that God made him for me. He knows how to keep me grounded when the poison fills my mind. He reminds me that I do have the coolest kid in the world and he wouldn't be that way if his mom wasn't pretty great herself. He renews my faith in his love for me and fills the cracks in my heart, of which I have broken myself. He, in a sense, writes love on my own arms where I would prefer to write f*** up. He sees me for all the good I am, loves me for who I was and reminds me of who I could be, should I chose to be.
Today, for me, my husband is my moment of selah. Hearing the Father whisper I am loved...
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