Anything

This morning I laid in bed long after I was actually awake. I prayed and read and checked my social media, just enjoying the lack of responsibilities that would force me up and about. My children came to join me, and we visited while we stared up at the ceiling, giggling about inside jokes and dissecting the meaning of life (which to my son includes vast amounts of Lego Ninjago anecdotes). We do this sort of thing regularly, my children and me. Each time it happens, I am filled with an overwhelming amount of peace and tranquility. I feel a sense that this is what life is all about; nothing else matters but this space of happy, right here. Those small moments bring such true joy.

This morning I reached for that again, and I almost grasped it, but it flitted just out of my reach. I'm still fighting off my cloud of fog. It still follows me just a little bit. It is thinner and farther away, though. I can see and feel more through its filter, but it is a determined little thing.

But I am more determined. I started to feel resentful about it once again stealing my most precious sources of joy. I have felt overly jealous lately of those who find peace and contentment without me. That seems ridiculous, but I find myself in that space every so often when I hear about people having fun with loved ones or even just on their own. I do not feel content with loved ones or with myself. I want to get back there again. I want to get back to the space where I feel content in me.

For a time, I have reached out to others to give me help and peace and happiness that I cannot find inside of myself. Talking to people is one of the only distractions that actually distracts me enough to feel human again. Whenever I hang up the phone, whenever I leave my friend's house, whenever I walk away from the conversation, I feel a little bit better for a minute, but then not. I can't hold on to the happy because it has to exist inside of me first.

I've known this for a long time. I know that my reality exists inside of myself, and in order for me to appreciate what goes on around me, I have to be at peace within. I couldn't do that for while, though. So much fear drained me, so much fog engulfed me.

I'm excited to once again look forward to moments of solitude. I'm excited to once again enjoy myself inside of my own head. The glimpses of the me I know are becoming more frequent. The battle to fight out of the fog is getting less difficult. I do things for me, now. I exercise, a little. I listen to my storybooks. I make "bigger than myself" plans to change my world and help other people and feel important. I go to therapy. Three different kinds of therapy, actually; two groups and one individual. I do the things that used to make me happy even if they aren't working now because I have faith they will, eventually.

I pray. I pray a lot. I ask Heavenly Father to be with me through this. I used to think I had to go to Him. I always heard, "He is there, waiting, with His arms outstretched. He's waiting for you to go to Him." But that's not how it is. He's always right here with me. He's here when I'm joyful, and He's here when I'm sad. He's here when I am grateful to Him for all the abundant blessings He pours down upon me, and He's here when I hate Him and curse Him and yell at Him. The only thing to truly push Him away would be to deny Him, and I have not done that. He's always been here.

He is with me through this, always. Every single moment, whether I recognize Him and know Him or not, He's here because He loves me that much. I am precious to Him.

Someday, I will see myself through His eyes, and understand with perfect understanding. Until then, I will fight for the glimpses of my purpose, of the purpose of all of this, and I will create something powerful and beautiful and worth it

for myself, for others, and for Him.
Because of Him.
With Him I can do and be anything.
Watch and see.