When You're at a Loss

You know that heaviness you get sometimes in your heart--the one that acts as a magnet pulling you to bed. Or, if you're standing, it sits on your shoulders and nails your feet to the floor so that moving feels like an impossible task.

Have you felt the exhaustion that not only sits on your eyes and fogs your vision, but burrows into your joints?

And then there's your mind...constantly screaming out ideas, and plans, and things you've said lately that you shouldn't have, and feelings of guilt thinking about those things you've said. But none of those thoughts leave your mouth. Instead of being able to speak your mind, it goes completely blank. You can feel the pressure building in your head, but it hasn't found a way to escape...Or I guess I just can't find a way to communicate it.

Life has felt a little all over the place lately, and there are times where I feel more like a pile of pieces more than a whole person.

And, before you start labeling me as depressed and in need of pills, I'll have you know that it's in those deep, dark places that challenge the "ugly" in my character. It shows me how easy it is for me to be selfish, snappy, rude, and hateful.

There's a verse in Ecclesiastes that talks about these seasons of emotion,

"A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance."

And while we are quoting Scriptures, theres verses all over the Psalms that explain the depth of sorrow as well.

"My soul melts away for sorrow; strengthen me according to your Word!"

"I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping."

So...I'm just going to take my time to feel these deep feelings, because I know peace, joy, and happiness will nourish my bones once again...in time.

Until then, I haven't shared much lately because it's been hard to communicate what is going on, as you probably could've gathered from my first few paragraphs.

It all started with my fatigue a few weeks ago. I'd wake up exhausted and grew even wearier or I'd do very little in the morning and life would quickly become too much. I felt desperate for energy, like I was being suffocated from it and was waiting for the opportunity to gasp and have it rush back into my body.

The week after, on a Friday at 4:30pm, Seamus was told that he was dismissed from work. He was given reasons that were all false and utterly ridiculous to anyone who knows him. My desperation turned into helplessness. I didn't know how to comfort him, and I didn't know how this would leave us. What I did know was that my Visitor Visa was running out and losing his job restarts the clock for when we'd be able to apply for the UK Spousal Visa (if we decided on going that route). Long story short, It means we could be apart for at least 4 months.

Within an hour of receiving that bad news, Seamus was offered the job that he had interviewed for in Sligo. We were swept up in the whirlwind and began house hunting and setting up the registry as if we were getting married the next day. We also made the rounds telling friends and family that he got the job...but they didn't all respond the way we had hoped.

Over that weekend we struggled with some of the advice we were given. We knew where we wanted to go and what we wanted to do...the job literally fell into our laps at the perfect timing! But there were some that didn't think it'd be wise for both of us to move to a new country. They didn't think it was smart to leave the opportunity to stay near family, a church we knew, and free health care that would solve all my problems (please, tell me you can hear my eyes rolling). We still hold firm that we don't see it being wise for us to spend months apart and pay thousands of pounds for a pit stop in our plan...but to each their own, I guess.

After that emotional roller coaster, we found out the job was for four months...with a slim chance of being taken on permanently and the off-chance that if a position opened up, he could go through the interview process all over again. Neither of us thought that was a viable option. So Seamus began the job hunt....AGAIN.

And while I was bumping along this roller coaster, my empathetic heart was grieving for my friends across the ocean, who are facing their own trials and I can't do a thing to help them. I have a number going through flare ups, some who are moving, some who have lost their jobs, some who are planning weddings, and some who are somehow balancing the world's problems on their shoulders while they are breaking on the inside. It's incredibly hard not to be there helping them through life.

When I get to this overwhelmed state, I express myself differently. The happy things come, and I celebrate quietly, with a straight face...and when I'm expected to express any more than that, I break down. I have a harder time communicating in the way people need me to, and that pressure makes me feel less and less like myself.

So...to circle back...Seamus and I have had a hard time humaning lately. Intertwined in our jokes and flirtatious nudges are moments of weighted silence. We've been avoiding the inevitable. Both of us had optimistically looked at our situation thinking that he would be flying back with me and that these three wonderful months would turn into a lifetime.

Now our hand-in-hand walks are taking us steps closer to a two and a half hour drive to Dublin International Airport, where our hands will let go and our eyes will blur with tears.

And if you aren't shaking your head right now wondering how we're able to do it, you don't get it...even I don't know how we will be able to let go of each other at the airport. I don't know how I'm going to make it on the ten and a half hour flight back home. I don't know how I will be able to pick up the piece of my shattered heart and deal with a 5000 mile separation and an 8 hour time difference AGAIN.

Instead of taking those steps, I want to run away. Far away. With my Seamus.

But I have to be strong because Seamus is feeling the same pressure, pain, and desperation I am. Even though I break down occasionally in his arms, I need to carry on. I have to prepare a care package for him to have when I'm gone, I have to pack while he is at work, I need to get everything as done as I can to take away as much of his pain as I'll be able to.

Even though I'm living with a hemorrhaging heart, I'm doing what I can with it. I take it a moment at a time. I thank the Lord for every ounce of strength He gives me. And I'm soaking up every minute with my boy. Because this is just for a time...A whirlwind, messy, broken bit of time.