My daughter says there is an insect that lays it's eggs inside a spider. When the eggs hatch, the spider is eaten from the inside out.
I feel like that spider; this being eaten from the inside out. I walk around feeling like a shell of a person, just going through the motions most days.
The shell is becoming so brittle and disfigured that I don't even recognize myself anymore. I look in the mirror, and I don't know who is staring back. I guess in some ways I look the same; but in so many ways, I look different.
Hopelessness and Depression show on your face you know. Smiles are less frequent; eyes are less vibrant, almost lifeless. There is a playfulness that is gone.
I read something the other day that I had written. I honestly don't even know that woman anymore. Surely, someone else wrote that.
Come to think of it, someone else did write it; someone with hope, purpose, a faith that was tested, but not shaken to the core.
This person that sits today and writes this; she's not that same person. She died about 2 years ago and many days, I don't think she will ever come back.
Sometimes change feels permanent.
I look in the mirror and I think about what I've become. The feelings are overwhelming. I can no longer decipher truth from lies.
Hopelessness is a constant companion. Unknown always stands right there and taunts me.
And Shame and Embarrassment show up everyday to mock me.
I'm ashamed and embarrassed of my life. If feels and looks so different, and I don't like it. I've lost so much, but the worst of it is the faith that has been shaken to the core; so much that at times I wonder if it's even there anymore.
I so badly want to grieve. I want Grief to show up and overpower the other feelings, but I don't feel like I can grieve, like somehow I don't deserve to grieve.
So Grief stays at bay while I drown in Shame, Embarrassment, Hopelessness, and the Unknown.
I know many others that have struggled much more than me. I just moved. That doesn't deserve Grief. I haven't earned the right to grieve. I haven't lost a loved one. I haven't watched my child struggle through cancer. My husband has a job. I have a house nicer than most in this world will ever see; and yet I don't like it. It just doesn't feel like home yet. Shame tells me that I'm a horrible, selfish person for not being thankful.
And so I don't grieve, because I don't feel like I can. My heart so badly wants to, but my head tells me I'm wrong.
Embarrassment stands there and whispers in my ear, "You are such a failure. You can't even handle a move. Others have lost so much more than you, and their faith still stands. In fact, that's their strength. You! You, on the other hand; your faith is almost lost in the rumble. You aren't even standing anymore. You are pathetic. If people only knew how far you have fallen into a pit, they would just shake their heads and whisper amongst themselves, 'She had such promise. I really thought God was going to use her. Look at her now.'"
This shell I've become; it's all I know now.