I have so much anxiety right now. I know that word gets thrown around a lot. But it feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest. No appetite. For several days.
I try to get started. To throw myself out there again after getting knocked down over and over and over again. But it seems like no matter what I try, I just can’t get ahead.
People tell me I’m not responsible. But you don’t know the half of it. Every week I work almost 72 hours. So fucking tired. Completely exhausted.
I don’t know what to do anymore. It feels like God is against me. Like when I was a kid. If I let on to what I wanted then it would be used against me.
Yet, intellectually I know God isn’t petty like that. But knowing doesn’t really make a difference in terms of my circumstances changing.
I want to fucking scream, cry, yell, etc! I am so fucking mad. Because I am so fucking tired. How much more can a bitch take? Fuck.
This world is hurting. Desperately. And it feels like You don’t care, God. So many are crying out. If we’re Your kids then why haven’t You fixed it yet?
I didn’t ask to be born. I have no fucking clue how to play this game. And I fucking hate it. I want out. I don’t want to do this anymore. There’s literally only three people keeping me here. And even they don’t fucking show up when I need them. But I know mostly that’s because they are tired and completely drained also. So I swallow my damn pride like it feels like I have to swallow every other damn offense against me, take every other fucking punch to my gut, and stick around even though I am completely over this shit.
How’s that for honesty?
All to say, prayers appreciated. In case they work. I have a lot of fucking stress right now. I’m not going to do anything stupid. Because of the three people keeping me here. And my damn curiosity. Because this can’t be the end. Been through too damn much to stop now. But I don’t know what to do about all the shit coming at me right now. I’m up against a wall.
And yet again, when I get to my breaking point, even before I finish typing this I start to get answers in my spirit. Like, “You’ve created some of this stress, Sarah. It’s yours to let go of whenever you want. Do you want to be healed?”
And of course also the steady reminder: “Stop playing out the story you are running in your mind. Especially about tomorrow. Just be here today, in the present. And do the next thing. Just do the next thing.”
So I guess the next thing is not figuring out my life. I guess the next thing is putting in the load of laundry that has been sitting by me for the last three hours as I’ve been paralyzed by anxiety. Then the next thing is getting ready to sleep. Then trying to lay down.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck. I need a change. I need some real good news. I need a break. But the kind that is like a vacation. Not a time out due to some tragedy.
I gotta say it again… Fuck!