My year experiment wasn't a bust, per se, but it also wasn't a success. I am contemplating where to go from here. Part of me just wants to blog about my feelings (ugh, really?). I see so many blogs out there like that and I wonder if they are helpful or just voyeuristic.
Does it help you to know that I suffer? I have clinical (treated) depression. I have fibromyalgia (they say, ...I am still in denial), I have hypercalcemia (which may or may not be caused by hyperparathyroidism) and osteoporosis. Most of the time I just feel like a lump.
I got an email from a writing site I subscribe to yesterday about rejection. I realized that I haven't really experienced rejection in a while because I don't really submit anything anywhere. I don't really know how many people (or who) reads my blog. I had to turn off comments because the spammers were having a heyday and people were getting linked to porn.
I certainly don't want to be a perpetrator of that kind of nonsense!
So here I am. In the midst of personal crises (always), sick kids, no money (does anyone really have enough?), kids with behavior issues, too small house (not used to it, still, after two years) and yesterday I read, "I ought to be content with the things which the Lord hath allotted me." (Book of Mormon, Alma 29:3) So I stop and pray for contentment. It eludes me.
I am always reaching for something. A clean/tidy house (miraculously, not because I had to do any physical--read painful--labor!), a degree, perfect children (Hahahahahahaha), a loving and romantic relationship with my spouse (it happens), different furniture, a better stove, tidier kids, straighter hair, flatter belly... it's always something and then I think...
I am enough.
Really. I am. I know I am. I would tell my kids (if they asked me), "You are enough." If I am doing my best (which I am not always, for a variety of reasons) then I am Enough. I am.
Most of my infirmities, I believe, are swallowed up in the Atonement of Jesus. Yes, I believe that. It is a wonderful thing to believe. It brings me peace, and sometimes Joy, to believe that someone loved me enough to suffer and die for me. Suffer and die for everyone. Yeah, I think that's pretty cool.
I did not mean for my post to get preachy but it is part of who I am.
I believe that we are enough. I can do more but I sometimes can't and that's okay. Because I am enough.
I still don't know what I'm going to do with my blog. I don't know if I want to be cutesy and artsy (not really my thing) or just post my angsty thoughts (like this one) and hope somebody else also gets something because for me it is often cathartic.