Wounded animal

*I thought I should do a clause to say that I may feel all of these dark thoughts, but I have no intentions of any self-harm.*

I thought if maybe I sat down and wrote out how I’m feeling that I would feel better.  It usually does.  My feelings will often flow through my fingers and find some measure of closure in space.

I am lost.  Really truly lost.  I hate myself.  I truly wish God would have mercy on me and put me down like the wounded animal I am.  Farmers do it all the time.  Isn’t he the ‘great shepherd’’?  Isn’t there a ying and yang to the natural vs. the supernatural?  If a farmer can have mercy on a wounded animal can’t the great shepherd?

Chads texts haunt me.  Just as he wanted. He found his happiness because he isn’t the problem. I am a 38 year old woman who has a broken brain.  I’m 20 lbs over weight.  Kids are struggling.  Disposable trash.  My hair is falling out.  Thankfully less after I changed meds, but it’s thinner.  I’m not even worth a good fuck anymore.

Why does God make me live?  Seriously.  Why?  Does he love watching people suffer?  Why can’t he just put me out of my misery?  No one would miss me.  Maybe my kids for a while, but it seems like all the good I thought I was doing is in fact not good enough either.  I can see no reason to keep me on this earth.  What worth am I when I’m sick and unlovable?

I detest myself, but I’m stuck in it so now what?  The doctor doubled my anti-depressant med yesterday.  Maybe that’ll help?  The first few moments that I woke up my head was clear.  I laid there going over what the scriptures say about me.  That I am loved.  The apple of his eye.  I felt a measure of peace.

Then I stood up.  And it was as if all the memories of chads words and my life flooded down into my brain.  He’s in love.  She’s a better mother and won’t let him meet her kids.  She’s 29.  125 pds.  Mind you, I was at that age too.  She’s stable.  Pretty.  Kind.  She’s better in every way physically and sexually.  I’m a psycho that no one stays with.  Even Jason finally had enough of me.  I’ve had an abortion.  She’s std free. How he laughed at my tears.  Even accused me of using him for a paycheck.  Which is insane!

My friend told me, “Stop believing him even if it is true.  Believe in what you want to be and in time it will happen.” I liked that.  What do I want to be?  Stable.  Loved.  Good at what I do.  Loving. 

I sobbed such heart wrenching sobs on Monday that my body shook and my eyes swelled up.  I am so sorry for who I am, but this is the best I can do with what I’ve been given.  I look around my life and see it in shambles.  Even down to my trampoline.  It all fell apart after Chad.  Is it because Chad left or because my life was no longer submitted to the Lord?  I remember so many praise reports of God providing.  Of being thankful.  I had some measure of joy… so I told God I would submit my life back to him.  It can’t be worse then this.  So I pulled out Isaiah 54:5. He’s my husband.  Lord of heavens armies is His name.  He is my redeemer.  The holy one of Israel.  Romans says that nothing will ever separate me from his love.  Me.  I’ll try to not ruin my kids.  Try to focus on God.  Help others if I can.  No love. 

Okay.  But why would He keep a wounded animal alive only to suffer? I really don’t want to be me anymore.  I seriously can’t even look in the mirror without cringing. My eyes are hallow and sad.  I can see nothing good to fight for. I just want mercy.  I want this torment and suffering to suffering to go away.  Either fix me or put me out of my misery.  Please.