I can be a very strange person. Here are some examples just from the last week:
I often wear children shoes because I like sparkles too much to be satisfied with adult shoes and I have weirdly small feet. Yesterday, it was purple, sparkly Toms.
John found me watching Doctor Who on the Ipad propped up in the sink - I was watching the entire time I was getting ready to go out, including while I was in the shower.
I get nightmares just from commercials of scary movies, this one in particular was about a sloth (the nightmare, not the commercial). This was my second nightmare recently about sloths.
If you ask me what my dream job is, without fail I answer “Queen of England,” and I mean it every, single time. For example, when I was asked this question this week in a graduate level class.
Every night I sleep with a one-eyed teddy bear who is 22 years-old… all though Snowball and I are going to need to have a talk about the sloths and how they are NOT invited to the party.
However, there are some things that aren’t strange about me. I struggle with anxiety, anger, and over-eating, just to mention a few. Why isn’t this strange? Because we all have struggles, every freakin’ day of our lives.
I’m often followed by a cloud of worry that settles in my chest and makes me feel like I’m being ripped apart slowly. I’ve gotten so angry that I’ve said and done things that would make Charlie Sheen blush. When I started my weight loss journey I was 75 pounds overweight, because I like food. A lot. Obviously.
These are all things that society tells me to keep to myself or to magically fix so no one ever needs to see my dirty laundry. Well, I have heaps and heaps of dirty laundry (literally and figuratively – did I mention I’m lazy?). It sucks, but it’s the truth and it’s my reality that I have to work on these things constantly (seriously, does laundry ever end?).
I’m not saying this in a pity-party way or woe-is-me-I’m-all-broke-someone-fix-me way. I’m saying it because there is NOTHING weird about imperfection. Jesus’ sacrifice sure would have been pointless if we were all shiny, pristine examples of awesomeness. We are not Stepford people – no one has it all together. There are seven billion people on this planet who are a mess, in one way or another
I think we all need to hear sometimes about how damn hard life can be – for everyone. You are not alone, you are not more colossally messed up then all of humanity. Don’t believe the lies Satan is selling. He knows that isolation and embarrassment make any situation ten times worse (that’s a true statistic, I read it on the Internet).
Will I always be an angsty, irritable woman with self-control issues? Yeah, probably. But I will not be a shame-filled lonely one, by the grace of God.