I am so tired.

I am so tired of feeling tired.
When I think about how vibrant and active I was before my health started
 it's slide down the slippery, muddy hill of 'bad health', sometimes I cry.

Not always.

Most of the time I'm okay with where ever I am in life
because of my unfaltering faith in the Lord
and my knowledge that it could always be worse.

But, let's face it, we all, all believers, doubt Him at some time.
I'm very blessed and in knowing that I am able to keep my eye on the Lord.
I've been through some horrible things
and I've never lost sight of the Lord.
I would never falter.

Most days.

But after having three surgeries in five months that involved anesthesia
and mixing those moments with the fatigue that I often feel
because I have fibromyalgia,
I am always exhausted any more.

Over these last seven years when I've not been laid up
because of my health then I kick it into high gear
and do all that needed to be done when I was laid up.

Of course, these last four weeks have been no different.
I have been running around doing, doing, doing.
(always with the knowledge that I am so blessed to be able to walk again)
However, adding too much activity to my days,
 that's just adding more exhaustion to the already existing,
sometimes debilitating, fatigue that I've been feeling recently.
My fibromyalgia has been giving me fits for a couple of weeks.

This last week I couldn't do it any more.
I couldn't get out of my bedroom.
So much to do, so little energy.

But, it's worse than that.
 I had a day this past week where I felt despair.

"It's a funny thing when despair gets to you.
It doesn't even feel like despair.
You don't think to yourself,
Oh, I have no hope.
Oh, I give up.
Oh, there's nothing I can do.

That's just every day complaining.
That's just feeling sorry for yourself.

Real despair is different.

It creeps up on you in disguise.

It comes as a kind of sleepiness,
a kind of heavy sadness that weighs you down.

It makes you lazy."

....."I didn't say to myself:
Don't give up.

I didn't say:
.....Never give in.

I didn't really say anything to myself.....
I was just too tired......"

I remember going to sleep.
"I don't know if I had a ... nightmare.
Maybe I did.

All I'm sure of is that suddenly my eyes were wide open
and my heart was hammering in my chest
and there was a clammy sweat on my face.

I swallowed hard,
staring up at the ... ceiling.
A weird and terrible thought began to work its way into my mind."

You're worthless.
You are just a sick, lazy woman
who isn't any good for any one.
The only reason anyone loves you
is because you're sick.
You are such a BURDEN.
Your life is a joke.

"The thought was kind of like a whisper,
as if someone invisible were crouching next to me with his lips to my ear,
whispering very low.
The whisper was so low I didn't really even hear the words at first.
Slowly, they just sort of worked their way into my consciousness
until I was aware of them."

"I rolled up into a sitting position.
I held my head in my hands and ...cried.
It was then that the despair rose up inside me with its true face.

That laziness,

that heavy sadness,

that sleepy passivity,

...the hopelessness that had crept up on me.

Now it was here in full force -

a horrible feeling,

a twisting, hollow anguish of despair."

I clasped my hands in front of my mouth.

"I wanted to pray.
I tried.
But I couldn't.
I couldn't even do that.
I was too afraid; that accusing whisper continued
to speak to me.

...I was afraid because I thought that
I might deserve  everything
that was happening to me.

I was afraid to pray,
but I had to do something
and that was all I could think of.
I pressed my clasped hands hard against my mouth.
I bit into them.
I forced the words into my mind.

Please God.
Help me.
I'm beaten.
I admit it.
I'm lost.
I've got nothing left.

I eventually fell back into a fitful sleep.
When I awoke in the morning, I thought about
what had happened during the night.
I thought about it for a very long time.
Disecting it in an effort to understand.

And you know what?
"That sleepy sadness I had felt -
that passivity and despair -
they were gone suddenly."

I remember how I had prayed earlier.
How I'd thought there'd been no answer.
I was wrong.

I understood now.

It can be crazy hard.

To keep your faith,
to keep going.

It can be harder than I ever would have imagined.
Sometimes things happen to you,
really bad things that aren't fair,
things that make you feel so terrible ...about yourself.

Sometimes you feel like there's no one to turn to,
and you're all alone and so scared you
can hardly move and so tired you just want to
curl up in a ball and go to sleep forever."

...I think in some way I had been training for this time my whole life.
I'd been training every day, even in the simple things.
I trained to keep my mind sharp when I was in school.
I trained to keep my spirit strong by going to church,
"or when I prayed by myself,
it was a kind of training:

I was training to remember that I was not alone.
I was never alone."

God is always there for me,
especially during times of despair.
And always when Satan is sitting on my shoulder
whispering lies into my ear.
Somehow I had gotten off track.
And I think part of my problem is the way
I isolate myself from the world.
Oh, I've got friends, but only a few close ones
that are physically near.
And I'm beginning to question why I keep it that way.

I have so many dear blogger friends
and I know that I could call any one of them
or the ones physically near
if I needed to talk
or to be affirmed.

But I don't.
I am fully aware that every one is fighting
some kind of battle
so I keep my own struggles to myself.

But not really.
I've got God and He is with me at all times.
It was scary when I lost sight of that.
And I'll tell you how I got my sight back.

I was able to go to church today for the first time since
last October.
Surely that's not right, but if I've been since October
I don't remember it.
'Snore' sermon probably.
Oh, hush, I'm just kidding.

I went to church today and it felt so, so wonderful
to be back in "the family".
To sing praises to my Lord.
To hear a sermon that spoke to me.
*They always do*
And the opening prayer....

It was said for me to hear.
It spoke to my heart in a way that helped
validate me and what I had been through this past week.
It cleansed me of any left over self doubt.
I lifted my head to the heavens
and it brought me back to where I always am.

Well, except I do allow myself what I call
Like after a doctor's visit
or yet another referral to a specialist.

We're all allowed them.
Just don't make a habit out of them.
"Keep your eyes on the prize", as my youngest says.
And don't listen to Satan.
He lies.

I have written this post on my side bar for one reason.
It's because I've really written it for me.
I doubt anyone will read it and that's okay.
I wanted a 'journal entry' about what I went through this week.

Because it was so "not me".
Praise be to God.

If you did find this post, thank you for taking the time to read it.
If you would like to leave a comment for me, please email me
I would love to know that you read it.

To God be the glory,

photos from Google photos and have no copyright on them to my knowledge unless indicated differently on the photo.
text in qoutes is from the book I'm reading and these passages were what I read just last night.
i'm reading The Last Thing I Remember by Andrew Klavan.
and I know without a doubt that God put this book in my hands.


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