Trying to Rejoice in Suffering...

It's been a while since I've written. Dillon is out of school next Tuesday (where did this year go?!!) and we went to Missoula to celebrate a family member's 90th birthday (she is amazing...she looks and acts as if she's in her 60s!!) last weekend.

I think the reason I've been putting off posting is because in the spirit of what I wanted my blog to be--a blog to help others who might be feeling as lost and lonely as I was--I couldn't really write candidly unless I was completely honest. I don't know why this is harder than admitting I was drinking way too much, but it is.

I have always believed everything happens for a reason. When I got that cold in February, I was taking cold medicine, and I think that made me feel good enough that I didn't have the urge to drink to 'take the edge' off my nerves.

But then I started to take it when I wasn't sick. I never took enough to hallucinate or anything, just enough to give me a relaxed feeling. When I got pneumonia I definitely think it added to my anxiety and paranoia. A few weeks ago I finally admitted to Nate that I had been self-medicating with cold medicine. He looked at me and told me he knew, but he didn't want me to think he was trying to control me or tell me what to do. Honestly, he was right. By confronting me, knowing my stubbornness, and probably not being ready to face it yet, it might have made it worse.

But knowing that he knew and loved me enough to see me through, made me feel so ashamed. And love him that much more.

It also made it that much easier to throw it away.

An amazing social worker that I worked with in the ER got me in touch with an art therapist, who I've seen twice now. This has been amazing--she speaks my language and has already helped me with some insights as to why I do the things I do, feel the way I do sometimes.

It's still a struggle...days where for some reason I'm overwhelmed or tired or just feeling blah--I think how easy it would be to stop by the store, but I don't. I tell Nate how I'm feeling--not to worry him, but for accountability, and he tells me he loves me and I turn to my God for inner strength.

Now I'm realizing we're not meant to be happy all the time. That it's okay to feel blue or have the mean reds every now and then, and it's part of being human. Instead of self-medicating the feeling, relying on my faith, one day at a time.