“It was a Sunday afternoon. I cried for the WHOLE service. I sat alone in a row towards the back. I was told by my Pastor if I attempted suicide, I would go to hell. I was told by my elder I was beyond reaching, not worth saving – I had fallen too far for God to find me. Trusted friends told me if I had stronger faith and prayed more, I wouldn’t need anti-depressants. I was told my depression was a result of my sin. But as far as I knew, my only repeated offense was existing.”
“I didn’t know that all the days of you asking me for my time, would turn into me asking you for yours. I didn’t know how fast the years would fly by.”
“Another day, another sob fest about something that broke his little heart. I will painfully admit, I don’t always handle his sensitivities in the most patient way. ‘Mommy, I’m disappointed I didn’t get a date with you today.’ But there’s not one part of me that wants to ‘toughen him up.'”
“I go to bed and beat myself up for all the things I didn’t do perfectly that day. They go to bed with smiles, and I fall asleep with a panic attack. I see scars everywhere from the life I’ve survived.”
“How did I ever think motherhood would be easy, magical, dreamy? My mind started racing with questions. I let myself wallow in self-pity for about 24 hours, and then I decided I would not give in.”
