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Showing posts from April, 2017

When The Fog Won't Lift

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I would like to just karate chop depression in the gut right now.

I won't lie. I'm quite the mess. But I'm going to keep it real. I'm not a faker. At the checkout line today the cashier asked me how I am. I told her, "I'm just plain crazy." I then laughed and said, "How are you?" It doesn't mean I tell every single person I meet my struggles... but it also doesn't mean I fake it with my friends.

I know it started with back pain that led to not being able to work out.... and was coupled with the weird knee pain that had me down for almost 3 weeks and still won't go away. The no exercise thing stunk... because I couldn't release my emotions. No endorphins.

Couple that with a little anxiety about Michael's upcoming cleft palate repair surgery and my husband being out of town for a while and you get a whole new special mess. Pour on a little bit of hurts and disappointments. Confusion. Rejection. Criticism. Missing my sister. Dang…

Peace in the Waiting...

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I pull the covers almost completely over my head. Can’t I just stay in bed? When will all the hurt and pain just go away? I'm so frustrated... by my limitations, my inabilities, my lack of control. 
I’m discouraged. I hurt my back last week and am still recovering. I’m doing all the right things. Been to the chiropractor 3 times. I’ve been icing, and stretching and using biofreeze and arnica gel and essential oils for sore muscles. 
And I still can’t safely work out yet… So I must wait. 
Waiting is never a fun thing for me. I hate being still. I’d much rather get something accomplished because I feel worthy if I’m productive. Scary, right? So when I’m unable to be productive and get things done then I feel worthless. Yikes. 
What if my value isn’t from a clean house and a perfectly made meal? What if who I am isn’t based on the car I drive or how well behaved my children are?

So what if our worth doesn’t come from what we’ve done. What if it comes from something greater and deeper. Wha…

Self Hatred vs. The Art of Loving Me Now

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I have stretch marks. I have rolls. My body has been stretched from giving birth to 5 children in 6 years. It has carried and sustained me in the tragic loss of my sister and nephew. Has born the grief, stress and challenges of having a child with a feeding tube for 5 years and a child who has walked through cancer treatment. Cerebral palsy. Cleft Palate. Orthotics. Audiologist. Cardiologist. Oncologist. ENT. Cranial-facial. Radiologist. Pulmonology. Developmental Peds. NICU. PICU. blah,blah,blah the list never seems to ends...

The list goes on. But that's not the point.

The point is my body is damaged and broken. And I hated it. I hated my imperfections. My inabilities.

My self-worth was never great. I never looked at myself as a teenager and thought I was beautiful. The scars of sexual abuse made me see, "ugly" "worthless" "fat" even when I was outwardly gorgeous. I never saw it.

And now when I look at myself something wonderful has changed. I look …