So, it's been made painfully clear to me that I have never been this alone since Blake died. During the month between his death and little Blake's birth, I had days to myself, but living with my parents and sister, and the other sister just up the road, I was rarely alone and never for very long. This time, almost three years since, I am very, very alone.
Sure, I've filled my days with friends, fun, work, etc., and I've had friends over and gone out...but it's essentially all by myself, never with a little buddy in tow. Bedtime is purely when I want it to be, and, again, I'm all by myself and don't need to keep it quiet outside a sleeping child's door.
It is gut wrenching. This season, I've felt more isolated and yearningly lonely than ever before, and I'm truly tasting it for the first time...deeply bitter stuff. To cope (and to not muck up others' holiday spirits), I cover with anger during the day - anger of the sarcastic, make-them-laugh-so-I-don't-cry kind, then sob like a baby at night. I wake up puffy, tired, and irritable. Merry effing Christmas.
My dear discipler let me see that I simply need to be honest, not sinning in my anger or hurt, but letting those I love and who love me support me in this very difficult time. I need to be loved right now. I need to be prayed for and with, and I need to cry. I need all these things, and I hate being needy. I hate feeling like Debbie Downer, especially to my friends, so have been putting on a show.
Show's over. I'm hurting, and though I ask for wisdom and deliverance, God's timing is not mine. I'm sorry to those whom I've effectively lied to about how I'm doing this Christmas. Please forgive me. Forgive my crass/crude/filthy mouth, and the bitterness that I let seep in. Please help me through this.