I feel like it’s been a while since I’ve written. A lot has happened. I turned a year older, became confirmed in the Catholic Church, moved into a home with my partner, celebrated a one year anniversary with the love of my life, made an appointment to shop for a wedding dress, definitely lots of good things. But with the good things in life, challenges arise. I’ve been in the worst pain I’ve experienced in my life that has still yet to be solved, racking up in medical bills, feeling anxious and depressed for letting people down because of my pain. It’s been a vicious cycle.
In the midst of everything, I find myself feeling thankful for my pain. Yes, you read correctly. Both in my hometown and the town that is now my home, tragedy has touched the lives of people I know. Some no longer have a loved one, some no longer have a home. My heart hurts for them. On my worst days when I’m at my lowest, I count my blessings and I encourage you to do the same.
When Alex and I first moved into our new house, I had a really bad panic attack one evening. The origin of my anxiety drew from the idea of having a home. When I was in college, my family lost my childhood home and I was too wrapped up in being in my early twenties to give it the proper goodbye I wish I would have. I often think about it, trying to remember the layout and the memories of my childhood. I am so thankful for those memories. I’ve been longing for a home since then (even though I’ve always had a roof over my head) and it feels so incredible to have one again that sometimes I panic. I can’t explain my anxiety most of the time.
I hope those that are experiencing loss and hardship find their green pasture soon. I know that it’s hard to see through the rain, but it’ll be over soon enough.