Devastation. Despair. Hopelessness.
All of these words terrify me. They mean a lack of faith. They mean failure. They mean my attitude is wrong. They mean I'm weak. I hate to admit when I'm struggling. I'm embarrassed to admit when things are hard, not so perfect, and I'm falling short. Why is that? Why is it embarrassing to be real? To accept that I'm human? I decided I don't want to be. I want to embrace those 3 words and really get to know them. I'm sure they have a lot to teach me and maybe pretending them away only makes it worse.
In doing so, I've learned something about myself. I'm a fighter. I can feel the most absolutely low I've ever felt in my life and still fight. I don't give up. Even if I'm fighting my own thoughts and emotions. I've learned that even when I'm feeling hopeless, theres still hope. There's still faith that things will work out. Even when I want to just give up because that seems easier than fighting, I can't, and I wont.
And now that I've admitted I'm human, let me admit I am loved by the most patient, understanding and loving man. When I'm ashamed of myself for spacing an essay that was due and taking an F, or forgetting an exam and bombing it, for missing things that I would never ever miss before, he holds me and tells me I'm his Queen. He gives me blessings whenever I need them. He listens to what I have to say without judgment, and tells me what I need to hear. He gets me out of the house when it feels like the biggest chore and lets me veg and eat ice cream when I need that. Always seeming to know a healthy and good balance of each.
I am learning a lot about myself right now. And accepting that feels liberating. My life isn't perfect, I'm not perfect, but I don't want to be. Perfection is boring.