My Island

There is $0.41 in my bank account right now.

I’m at my wits end. It’s been one thing after another. It’s the never ending medical bills. The having to be out of work for a week because I got my neck cut open. It’s the two car payments. It’s the client telling me to take the week off. It’s the threat that I’m going to be sued by the guy who hit me and that I should lawyer up. It’s taking care of everyone else all day long nonstop and then coming home and sitting in a room where I’m surrounded by dirty laundry and mugs that need to be washed. It’s the hallow feeling inside. The lump in my throat. The anxiety and the depression. It’s nothing yet it’s everything at once.

I’m shaking and terrified. I’m on an island of quick sand sinking faster and faster as gigantic scary waves bigger than life come at me from all sides. Even if someone came to rescue me in a helicopter with a long rope I don’t know if I’d grab on. I’m at that point where I’d be okay if everything swallowed me alive because I’m so exhausted I don’t know how I can keep doing this.

Everything was going so well. I wasn’t living paycheck to paycheck for the first time in years. I quit my terrible job and started a company where I was the boss. I had an awesome savings account built up. I was driving a nice car – my first car – my baby. I was feeling okay with life for the first time in a very long time. And then everything hit at once. Literally and figuratively. It was an explosion of sheer panic and nervous laughter.

The past six months have been pain on top of agony on top of disaster. I don’t know how to fix it. I’m in constant panic mode. I’m trying to please everyone yet I’m sinking further and further into a depression I’m not so sure I will be able to get out of this time.

And trust me…I know…cry out to God and He will hold me and comfort me. But I’m too embarrassed to even walk towards Him right now. I’m too weak to try to fix my faith walk. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know who to go. My parents and my brother have their own struggles right now without me crawling to them asking them for whatever help they could offer. And it’s not their fault. They each have their own island, their own quick sand, their own huge scary waves.

So I will sit here surrounded by dirty laundry and mugs that need to be washed pondering why I can’t just take control of life and handle things like an adult. And I will cry. And hyperventilate. And hope I will be able to fall asleep despite the fight going on inside of me.

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The World is Daunting

The world is a daunting place, filled with miserable nonsense and unfair situations. I didn’t ask to be born into this nightmare. And I am certainly not trying to stay in these unfair situations. They just happen.

The phrase, “This too shall pass…” has become meaningless to me. As soon as one trial passes, another trial pops up in its place. I compare my unfair situations to the mythical creature Hydra. When you finally cut off one head, two more grow in its place. Well when I finally get over one trial, another much bigger one replaces it. It’s not fair. But who ever promised life would be fair? I guess I should be on my knees crying out to God in these times. But I’m exhausted. I’m exhausted of the constant. The constant aggravation, the constant pain, the constant frustration. It gets old very quickly.

Finally get my clutch replaced, new door hinge put on, registration renewed, tires rotated, etc….and some guy speeding in a truck crashes into me. I can’t win. I’m not trying to be a martyr or a negative Nancy…I’m just so done with everything. The world is daunting and I’m becoming very tired from constantly fighting. I don’t have a car. I owe thousands of dollars. I don’t have a job coming up. I’m in a lot of pain from the truck crashing into me. They aren’t willing to see if he was texting. And they aren’t paying attention that he wasn’t paying attention. There were no tire skid marks. He was speeding and he didn’t even attempt to slow down. He was a jerk to me at the crash site. He couldn’t have cared less. Besides having to pull my car door open because the car was crunched up…he didn’t care.

How is that my fault?

How am I the one entirely at fault? How come I’m the one in pain, dealing with PTSD, lacerations, and bruised bones. I can’t sleep, I’m having so many nightmares and the pain is too intense for more than thirty minutes of sleep at a time. I’m crying all day long and I’m having constant panic attacks. I feel alone. I’m scared. And I’m worried. I’m on double doses of pain killers and double doses of sedatives to sleep. It’s not helping. I’m a mess. I don’t want to be a mess. I want to have a normal life. I am craving boring right now. I am craving not having to worry about every single aspect of my life. There is no such thing as a smooth straight road. My road has been filled with potholes, caters, road closings, and detours.

I should have died. I really should have died. So why am I still here?