Coming out of the dark?

I have been thinking a lot lately about my life... and about the last phases of my life. I have felt very lost and numb and alone. I didn't know that was how I was feeling... I was just feeling it.

As things have come to a close the last few weeks... I have had many "cleaning out of the closets" of skeletons that have haunted me. Poor Jess has dealt with a lot. And he has chased his own demons per se as well. We both have really felt distant and far away from reality. We have avoided friends and family as we tried to make sense of it all. And we have been down, grumpy and tried to always put on a happy face when we were strong enough to do it.

And looking back I realize it is depression.

Now... what in the world would we have to be depressed about? What would I have to be depressed about? Huh. Well most of the online info on heart patients I have read states that depression follows surgery and such. Maybe? And that the family and caregivers struggle too. Or maybe it has been the decline of income to the point of almost loosing our home? Maybe? Or maybe it has been the mess that has occurred with our taxes to make us in debt to the IRS - which that alone is frightening! And let's not even go into the chaos of the American Democracy and government! I wonder... could those have something to do with it?

But mostly I wonder if it isn't Satan standing beside us whispering in our ears that it is too hard, we are too weak, we can't do it anymore... etc etc etc.

I tend to believe it is all of the above. And yet... I found some hope. I found a path back. I found "ME" again! Or at least I hope I have...

I have been reading my journals from the last few years in our old house. WOW! I was so strong then! I had such faith. I had such hope. I poured out my heart and soul and found solace in my journal back then.

I am so humbled to have found my journal; to have searched for the info for my post about our 3rd anniversary in the house - it has blessed my heart, my soul and given me some serious direction... I need my journal!

I think we are commanded to write in our journals for our own welfare! I feel such strength from looking at where we have been to wonder why I am allowing myself to wallow in this now?

I have not written in my journal for over 4 months... and the time before that it was 5+ months. I have thought that my blog was enough.

I know now it is not.

It is fun! I love to blog and share and see my "scrapbook", if you will, come to view, but I don't share it all with the blogging world. I have not published some the darker posts I have written, for fear of what someone might think of me and my attitude at times. How could I be so "ungrateful" for my life? I almost lost it! how could I even consider to not feel immense gratitude everyday for the chance to still be here? How wicked am I for allowing myself to even question such a gift?

*I* need the private thoughts, insights, feelings and strength from being honest with myself and "talking out" my emotions/feelings/trials/joys/etc! I need to sort it out on my own with myself. If that makes any sense... :P

I would like to write in my journal every Sunday (at least) from now on. I need the written proof that we are progressing and growing and becoming better for these paths we tread now.

I am so thankful for my knowledge to write and read and journal.