I'm becoming aware of this nauseous feeling filling my heart rather than my stomach. I don't think I've had a nauseous heart before! It causes me to run the numbers and find, to my disbelief, that it was on Valentine's day last year that I walked to our highway and planned to not come back. My heart is pounding now, probably in the same way every person's heart who cared for me at the time did. I wish I could speak to last-year me. I wish I could draw along side her and comfort her. I would hold up a looking glass to the year to come and watch her expression change from confusion to surprise. From despair to hope. From pain to disbelief with how things would change, how *I would change. She would take a deep breath and sigh the weighty sigh of one who had seen the impossible and dared to believe it could be true. She would look into the eyes of the year older, stronger and peace-filled me and know it was true.
I remember how that day went. Remember making Valentine's Day crafts with the kids, keeping my "normal" on as their sweet voices sang out the reasons they loved each of our family members. I remember being slain by Jason's note to me, "I love that you're always here for our kids." I used that little red heart note as a bookmark over the days I spent convalescing at my pastors house in the days following. I allowed it to judge me terribly. (Silly last year me, forgive yourself.) I mourned the fact that I was too "weak" to stay with them over that time. (Exhausted last year me, rest.) I filled those days reading and tentatively trying my hand at drawing. (Timid last year me, draw, draw, draw! You're better at it than you think!)
I lie here so very thankful for those who stood up, like a hedge about me, and blocked out some of the darkness with their love. I thank God for you. I thank God. I am so thankful I don't live in that heavy mist anymore. Please give me grace when I say I am not sorry I went through that time. I don't say it lightly, as I am keenly aware that some of you reading may still be in that place of depression and desperately want a reprieve from it. When I say 'that time' I mean my whole lot. That year and a half of change and difficulty were the labour pains that gave birth to the person I am now. (Thank you last year me, in your weakness you were made stronger than you believed you could be.)
This year has birthed confidence and clarity of thought. It has birthed new ideas, artwork, increased love and understanding. It has been a year of nurtured relationships and rest. It became the year I struck something off my imaginary 'list of impossible' and travelled back home, alone! It has been a year of SO.MUCH.HOPE. Perhaps there had been plans for harm, but there were better plans set before me on the table. Plans for hope and a better end. I chose them.
**If anyone is self harming or thinking suicidal or despairing thoughts, tell someone. Do it now. Much love to you, dear heart. ❤️ **
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