Courage, Dear Heart

This week has been one of the most exhausting weeks I’ve had for a while. My body pain, insomnia, and pain from my damaged organs has been nearly unbearable. I’ve done everything I can to simply survive. I’ve cut out sugar, every grain, almost all caffeine, and almost every kind of dairy. I’ve started every supplement to make up for my deficiencies, and I do an hour of yoga every day. I’m doing everything I’m supposed to…why aren’t I getting better? How do I survive this? I’m 25, and I feel like the weight of everything I’ve gone through is too much to bear. Last night around midnight I completely broke down as my husband held me. I felt the weight of the abuse, the weight of losing my father, and the weight of all of my health issues like a 100 pound weight sitting upon my chest. I was broken, I was tired, and I just wanted a break. Where was my break? God, please, how do I survive this? I’m 25, Jesus! I don’t want this to be how the rest of my life looks. Abba, Father, ple

I know it’s probably very cliché to write a post about < L O V E > on Valentine’s Day, but the thing is, I love (bah dum tssss) clichés. No, in all seriousness, I have been wanting to share this story on my blog for a while, and I figured this was as good of a day as any to do so. If you’ve kept up with my blog, then you know a bit about my past relationships. I started seriously dating when I was 18, and with every relationship, I lost myself a bit more each day. I always thought that I was in love, and when I look back, I can see that there was no love in any part of those abusive relationships. Each relationship cut deeper than the last, and I continued to believe that “abuse” was all I was worth. After a really terrible experience (regarding these relationships) at my first university, I decided to move home. I wanted help, I wanted out, but I had been abandoned by a lot of people in my life, who’d decided to take the side of my abuser. So I finally made a huge,