Relentless, as defined by my good friend Merriam-Webster, is showing or promising no abatement of severity, intensity, strength, or pace. In simple terms: strength that remains (see also, #cantstopwontstop). Oh, to be relentless in joy. It's a beautiful thing.
But what about those days when the joy doesn't come? when the grey clouds of the world drag you down and all you want is everything that isn't?
Those cloudy days have been my BFF lately, and it's tough. And I'm here, being honest. And terrified of the transparency of my weakness. But what would sharing my story mean if it wasn't told with truth?
In the last year I have:
- actually started feeling the death of my father (he passed away three years ago, but I think I was in shock),
- nearly lost my mother to a brain aneurysm (surprise!),
- quickly lost all physical strength and basic function in my body that I'm still working to regain,
- carried and birthed a beautiful baby girl enduring a very difficult pregnancy full of complications,
- had the possibility of future healthy (for me) pregnancies all but ripped from my (and my husband's!) fingertips
...and now I'm attempting to make major dietary and lifestyle changes that will hopefully bring healing, but are making me a very difficult person to live with (I like food).
As a result of this last year, I am a disaster mentally. I struggled with depression and anxiety as a teenager and through college. I was finally in a great place mentally when this last year happened, so I am struggling once again. There are too many days that I'm terrified to go to bed (stress-induced nightmares), and too exhausted to get out of bed once the day begins. I am angry that my body has betrayed me. I spend most days lately waiting in worry, rather than joyful hope (what if it's not over?). But there is something I have this time that I didn't have ten years ago; determined strength.
Yes, I am having a rough winter (I know many are thrilled with the warm days, but I am really not a fan of all the rain and gray skies...come on beautiful snow!!). The introvert in me would like to stay in the house until spring, avoiding all the socializing that happens this time of year. But then my heart dares to hope, just for a moment.
What if...it's not over?
If I could go back fifteen years and talk to my teenaged self, I would hug her and say, "Don't give up! Don't ever give up! Those plans you have for your life? God's plans are so much better, so much greater than you could ever imagine. Cry, yell, but seek joy. It can be hard to find, but with God it's never gone. Be relentless; seek joy."
I may be depressed and anxious, but I am also relentless. I will not give up. I will seek joy. I will jump on the couch and dance in the kitchen, even (and especially) on cloudy days.
It's not over.
