I have not written here in a long time. I’ve been busy.
I was going to try to start writing again, but I can’t. It’s like I’m stuck.
I realized that I haven’t talked to anybody about what’s happened in the past six months.
Then I realized that even if I did talk to somebody about it, they would never believe me.
Not even a priest would be likely to believe me.
That would be a miracle.
I don’t want people to think I’m crazy for things that have happened to me in absolute truth. At the same time, because I can’t tell anybody… I am completely alone.
I know the truth will be made known on the other side of Heaven. Until then, I have to deal with crippling anxiety on my own.
It’s like coming home from war. The battle is over, but I brought the war home with me. Nobody understands that. I want everything to be okay. I can rationalize that it -is- okay now.
I can’t stop the fear. Or the split second reactions that are more drastic than they should be.
Sometimes it feels like God has allowed all this to happen to me and just watched me, saying, “Ah, well, she’ll get over it eventually. She’ll be alright.”
I am drowning. I am reaching for help.
It’s just that nobody seems to care.