May 5, 2010 by Nicole
The last few weeks have been very busy with grading papers and trying to wrap up the current semester, but thank the Lord, I made it and now have a month off.
I was reminded today of how much hurt and sadness, and sometimes anger, I am able to mask. Recent events have taken a toll on my spirit, particularly this morning. Let me say first that I have been working very hard to remind myself of the things that God has blessed me with. The good things in my life are many: I have a job as a professor; a house that, despite my husband’s and my rather limited financial means at the moment, is not in danger of being foreclosed; four dogs who run to the door to greet me when I come home from work; a husband who loves me more than anyone and anything else in the world; a working automobile; clothes on my back and food on my table. Most importantly, I will be able to handle the disappointment that will come along if my husband gets passed over for a good job again. No, it won’t feel good, but I can honestly say that I am beginning to accept where God has put me for the time being.
But it’s days like today that I feel like my ability to keep my veil of composure in place has worn exceedingly thin. I am reminded, for example, that I am terribly lonely–the type of lonliness that feels like it’s about to burst. My source of income for the next three months will be about 25% of what it has been, so I wonder where the money for Lourdes will come from. I wonder whether anyone cares about what happens to me (the answer is yes.), or that it’s been over two months since someone–anyone, really– has called me to see if I wanted to get together with them, other than my therapist calling to confirm my weekly appointment. While I have lately been dilligently working to find the strength required to surrender and let go of my anger at people who have hurt me very deeply in my past (Why do I continue to let them hurt me? Good question.), it’s times like this morning that I wrestle with what to do with my feelings. On one hand, I need to feel and process them, on the otherhand, “losing it” in public is not a good option.
In short, today is a bad day. The current tally for today: Depression: 1, Me: 0.
So I think that today, I find myself hoping that this pilgrimage, which will not necessarily cure me physically (though that would be nice!) of depression, going to Lourdes will allow me to get rid of my suffering, leave it behind in France, and come home healed and renewed in spirit.
Dear God, help. Amen.