Things I Know To Be True
I am human.
I am real.
I am woman.
I am imperfect, and that is okay.
I care what people think of me in relation to integrity, honesty, and intelligence. I cannot stand to be called a liar.
I often feel invisible. I'm short, so people often look over me in a crowd. I'm middle aged, fat, and frumpy. People seem to look through me. I feel irrelevant, especially in a crowd of younger people.
I have a chronic fatigue, pain, depression, and anxiety disorder. My doctors call it Fibromyalgia. Could it be something else? Sure, I'm not stuck on the name. I view it as a placeholder until a better diagnosis comes around. I know the chronic fatigue, pain, depression, and anxiety are real.
My lifestyle can help or hurt me in my struggle with fibromyalgia. Proper diet, exercise, and sleep are essential to living my best life with fibro.
I struggle to maintain proper diet, exercise, and sleep.
I was raised by Jesus Freaks during the Jesus Movement at a charismatic non-denominational church.
I really, really wanted to be a perfect Christian when I was a kid.
Perfection is not an attainable goal.
My parents, brother, children, and husband love me. They don't always love me the way I want or need, but they do carry unconditional love for me.
My parents, brother, children and husband are imperfect, and that is okay.
I love my parents, brother, children, and husband. I don't always love them the way they want or need, but I do carry unconditional love for them.
Celebrate Recovery and the United Methodist Church were very, very good for me in my 30's and early 40's, but not so much any more.
I'm deconstructing my faith with an open heart and open mind.
I'm not afraid to deconstruct my faith, but I am lonely. I miss my church community, but not enough to go blindly back into it.
I'm not afraid that God will punish my lack of faith. If anything, I think God is big enough understand my struggle.
I woke up with a headache.
My husband and I are on day seven of COVID-19 symptoms. This is his first time, and my second time being ill with the notorious virus. I hope to go back to work this week.
This is my third or fourth time trying to write this week. I'm glad to be able to get a few words out. Fibro fog and COVID fog are muddling my brain.
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