Day 32: Night lights

Ok, I admit it.  I am afraid of the dark.  Not like little kids are, but still . . .   Darkness scares me for two reasons.

Reason 1:  I'm not afraid of the dark as much as what might be in the dark.  I'm not afraid of scary monsters that you see on tv and in the movies.  I'm afraid of the scary monsters that walk around in people suits.  There are a lot of people who do a lot of bad things and my imagination is a little too good sometimes.  Probably just paranoid, but there you have it.

Reason 2:  Late night.  It's dark and quiet.  Time to pick Dan up from work.  I head over to the house at ten thirty or so.  There is nothing on the radio I want to listen to.  I am tired.  I'm in that pre-sleep thought process where my body is trying to wind down.  Unfortunately for me, my mind doesn't wind down.  It starts to think about stuff.  I review the day and everything that I didn't handle well.  Every time I raised my voice to one of the kids.  When I didn't accomplish something that I wanted to.  Each chore around the house that still hasn't been done.  I think of how hard it is on the kids when I'm going through mood swings.  When I raised my voice to Livi yesterday, she said, "I'm sorry I screwed everything up."  What a horrible thing for a three year old to think.  What kind of terrible mom must I be to be crushing her confidence like that?  I told Payton tonight that I'm going to start going to counseling tomorrow so that I won't make so many hard days for him.  He told me that he ruins way more days than I do.  I think of these things as I drive across town.  I begin to think that I've got to be the world's worst mother.  Somehow my lack of control has become worse than neglect and abuse.  My thoughts get more and more distorted and I don't know how to stop them.  By the time I see Dan, I'll be in tears.  He'll ask what went wrong and I'll tell him that there's nothing wrong.  I'm just a wreck.  He'll hold me and hug me and tell me that I'm doing my best and that it's going to be ok.  And I think of all that he does for me.  I worry about how much of my emotional weight that he has to carry for me.  Now I'm a horrible wife too.  It doesn't matter that I get up early every day to take Payton to school across town so he didn't have to transfer when we moved or that I pack his lunches with stuff he likes.  It doesn't matter that I work with Livi to help her speak more clearly so she won't get frustrated when people understand her.  It doesn't matter, the hours I spent with Ash to help with her homework or her vision therapy.  It doesn't matter, the talks I had with Avian to let him know how important and special he truly is.  It doesn't matter that I invested all I had in trying to show Saanna how a family could support each other.  It doesn't matter that I have been there for Dan through surgeries and emergency rooms and being talked down to for staying home with our kids while I worked or that now I'm staying home with Livi.  None of those things come to the surface when it's dark and quiet.  The only things that float to the top are the things I did wrong today.  And yesterday.  And every day of my life.  I feel like I'm drowning.  I'm Aladdin, weighted down and sinking with no Genie to save me.  I know it's illogical.  I know it's no accurate representation of the truth.  Even as I'm thinking these things, I know they are wrong, but I can't stop the flow once it starts.

But I think I have found a way to slow the flow.  I used to say that religion was just a drug that people used to replace another addiction.  Maybe it is.  But for me, late at night, when it's dark, it is my night light.  I play my pandora radio with my songs of God's strength and how He will carry me.  How He hears my hearts cry and how He will never get tired.  As the music flows through me, as the power of the words calms my thoughts, I can finally find a little peace.  God knows how much I need His strength when I am weary and He knows just how weary I am.

God helps those who help themselves.  I am reading books, studying nutrition and supplements, starting counseling and going to church.  I've tried so many things that haven't helped.  I couldn't decide what I believed about God.  How could I have faith like I did when I was ten?  I realized that if I just acted as if I believed, eventually, I would feel it.  It's just like when Aaron and I played nice for Payton's sake, and then one day we realized we were really friends again.  With God as my night light, I'm starting to believe that maybe I really can be ok again.