tunnel vision

Photo: Taylor Love Studios

Dark tunnel.
Clouded vision.
All by myself.

That's kind of like life the past couple days.
Me... trying to do everything by myself. Alone.
Let me tell you what, it doesn't work like that.

I got a call from my mom this morning.
She and my sister were concerned about me, after reading this post on Tuesday.
To be honest, I was just writing. Venting. Getting it out of my system. I didn't really think about it.
But—knowing me and my past, I can fully understand why they would be concerned.
I tried to tell her that everything was OK, and that I was totally fine... but then I started to cry.
And no matter what anyone tells you, if you're crying while you're trying to tell someone you're fine—
you're not fine.

My mom and I continued talking, as I hid myself in my office closet so no one would know that something was wrong.
See, I tend to be so happy and bubbly in person, always going-going-going with a big smile and then when I get home I tend to collapse.
Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.
Poor Daniel, he always gets the worse-for-wear version of me.
But anyway, there I was, crying over the phone to my mom and huddled in the dark Harry Potter closet.
She talked it out of me, as moms always do, and I felt so much better.
Just her call of concern really helped. And then the text from my sister a few moments later.
Sometimes it just helps to know that people are thinking about you.

Anyway, as the morning would have it, guess who I talked to immediately after that?
One of our church pastors.
He was just returning a call I had left for him earlier, but the timing couldn't be more perfect.
In addition to helping me out, he offered to pray for me.
And he prayed exactly what I needed to hear. I didn't even need to tell him what was going on. He just knew.
Grace. Peace. Rejoicing happiness. Serenity.
The prayers came right when I needed them.

Needless to say, this is not the post I had planned.
I didn't want to tell you that I've been facing a mental breaking point.
Everyone has been saying, "This is the happiest time of your life!"
And it is... but for some reason this very happy and wonderful time is also sad for me.
I know I'm not the only one who gets a little overwhelmed right toward the end.

I know that some people who read this today will be upset that I'm not glossing it over with pretty glitter.
They might be hurt that I'm saying I'm sad when I should be so very happy.
And here's the thing you need to know, I am happy. I am fulfilled. I am in love with an amazing, wonderful man.
But sometimes, it just feels good to cry. I'm not perfect. I have anxiety. It feels good to be honest. And to give it up and ask for help.
So today—I did. I emailed everyone I possibly could to reach out for help. And I know my prayers will be answered and we will get the help we need.

Please don't tell me "Keep your head up," or "It will all be OK,"
because I know that. My head is up. It is OK.
Seriously.
I know I will make it to our wedding, that the days will go by quickly, and it will be the most wonderful day of my life.
And despite this venting post... I really am fine.
So instead of a "Cheer up, Charlie" comment, maybe you could tell me an inspirational quote. A verse. Or tell a funny joke.
But I just want you all to know that life is good. So good. There's just a lot going on.

So today, that's why you get a post like this.
Posts that are way longer than they should be.
Posts that help me cry a little, write it out, and then move on... like writing therapy.
Posts that feel to me like a little written prayer. A little journal entry.
Posts that show you that I sure am real. I definitely have feelings. And I'm not the strongest-super-do-it-all-woman I know.
And that's OK. I'm OK.
Consider that tunnel vision gone.

And now, since I poured it all out and don't know how to end this post
while also trying to convince you that I'm not going to go back and cry in the closet (which I'm not),
I'm just going to tell you to have an awesome day.
Take my word for it. I'm good and OK and in a much better mood than when I began typing this.
And I appreciate you.
And thanks for supporting my blog. Man, it means a lot.
OK. I'm really going now.
I'm usually really good at ending things.
Not today.
OK bye.
Hit. Publish.