Happiness and some words…

I was a heavy heart to carry
My beloved was weighed down
My arms around his neck
My fingers laced to crown.

Life isn’t what I thought it would be when I was little.
I mean, don’t get me wrong, I never imagined what my wedding would be like as a child. I never daydreamed about my future husband and being the perfect housewife when I was little. That came later. The wedding still wasn’t my focus, but I did think about my marriage, what I wanted in a life-mate, and what my home would be like as an adult.

I was a heavy heart to carry
My feet dragged across ground
And he took me to the river
Where he slowly let me drown

I wanted to be a missionary.
I wanted to move to Africa and work in orphanages, to care for children who had lost their parents, to help feed those who had no food, and to love everyone I came into contact with. I just assumed I would find someone who’s heart was also there.

I wanted to be a teacher.
This isn’t completely gone. I can still teach with the degree I am working towards just not in a same way I had always imagined it.

I wanted to be a mother.
Most of you know the struggle and pain that I have carried in this department. As I have said before, I cannot begin to explain to you the vast emptiness that comes with infertility.
I feel empty. All the words spoken to me about what women are and can do are empty and devoid of meaning. What am I now? I cannot do anything, all I want is a family. How can my children rise and call me blessed if I cannot have any? My whole life I have prepared to be a mother and that dream is slowly dying.

My love has concrete feet
My love’s an iron ball
Wrapped around your ankles
Over the waterfall

I have struggled for most of my adult life with feeling inadequate in one way or another. When we were young and married, I was unhappy because I struggled with feeling unwanted and unloved. I thought moving closer to my family would help. I continued to feel unhappy. My unhappiness spread into my faith, and I began to hate going to church.

I hated seeing all the happy people with their smiles and their ‘God bless you!’s. I wanted to scream and tear my hair out at the falseness I felt in it all. Even when we found a church I was comfortable in I still felt unhappy.

Through all of it I still felt God.

And is it worth the wait
All this killing time?
Are you strong enough to stand
Protecting both your heart and mine?

It wasn’t until we began to push 7 years of marriage with no accidents or maybes that I began to feel like God wasn’t listening.
I cried out. Just like Hannah. I would go to our church at night, when no one was there and lay on the floor, begging God to at least tell me why I wasn’t allowed to be a normal woman. I began to hear the vast silence around me, it started just in my mind, but slowly pushed its way into my heart.

Who is the betrayer?
Who’s the killer in the crowd?
The one who creeps in corridors
And doesn’t make a sound

I felt like I was going insane. The emptiness and silence that filled my mind and heart were overwhelming. I couldn’t sleep in the same bed as my husband without feeling like I was a complete failure, and totally alone.
I finally asked God to do the one thing that I had never asked. I asked him to take the pain away. I told Him that if He wouldn’t give me the things I thought I needed to be happy, He could at least take my sadness.

The toughest part was when I realized He did. Well, sort of.

This will be my last confession
I love you never felt like any blessing
Whispering like it’s a secret
Only to condemn the one who hears it
With a heavy heart

It was slow. I began to care about things less, things that before would bother me beyond control. I wasn’t as irritated when my husband would do things that only months before drove me nuts. I could feel myself become numb to emotions I had felt before. I pulled away from things that before had created the feelings of emptiness and pain, I would put more time into the things that I enjoyed.

I’m so heavy, heavy
Heavy in your arms
I’m so heavy, heavy
So heavy in your arms

I began to realize that the idea of happiness that we are shown in media, and taught through social impressions is false. Happiness doesn’t come. You make your own happiness. You and you alone determine how happy you are. You choose to be content with what you have, and to strive for things to make yourself better. No one else makes you happy.

Happiness is a choice, and it’s not always what you think it will be.

I was a heavy heart to carry
my beloved was weighed down
My arms around his neck
My fingers laced to crown

The positive feelings have been coming slowly. I have whole days where I don’t think about kids.
I am able to imagine a positive future without kids. I don’t get a sinking feeling in my stomach when I think about all my friends have kids. I don’t cry when I see the happy faces of babies on Facebook.

I have been content with where my marriage is. It’s not what I want, and I have accepted that it will probably never be, and that’s okay.

I was a heavy heart to carry
But he never let me down
When he had me in his arms
My feet never touched the ground

I still go one day at a time. I still pray for many things, but I don’t pray for children. I don’t pray for my marriage to be something it isn’t. I pray for the happiness of those around me.
I am still working on getting past the ever-present silence I feel from God. I know He is there, I just don’t feel Him.

I am reevaluating my whole life. My whole faith. My whole me.

I am choosing happiness, whatever that looks like for me.

{Lyrics from the lovely Florence+The Machine, Heavy In Your Arms}

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Muddled Mind

Sometimes I want to write.

Sometimes I feel the need to write.

Tonight my mind is too full to do so.

I have written words of a demon tied to a hunter, of a shark drawn to a dolphin, and of a reaper caring for a fox. But they were all short and void of the feelings I wanted.

My mind is muddled.

Even sitting here, listening to the words of the songs that reflect the feelings in the stories I am working on I can’t seem to see the scenes. I can’t touch the characters. I can’t be in the moment they are in.

I want to write them so badly, not just for those that I know read the stories I post, but for the sake of the characters themselves. Their stories need told. They deserve for the their stories to be shared, but I can’t seem to find the words to do so, at least not tonight.

I have a demon who still needs to fall in love with the daughter of his partner.

I have a high school boy who needs to accept that he is loved, even when he doesn’t feel loveable.

I have a reaper who still needs to tell the woman he has been following for over a century how he feels about her.

I have a fox and a satyr that I need to lead to their deaths.

I have a kitsune god and a tengu god that need to find a home.

I have a dark elf who needs to find her jester.

I have characters that are relying on me to finish their tales, to bring their stories to a climax and ending, to bring them to a place of ending… and I can’t seem to.

Maybe I will try again tomorrow.