This has not been an easy week. I don’t feel very peppy tonight.
My job doesn’t make me super duper happy. I’m a terrible fit for the company culture, and the happiness I carry with me through other tasks (like socializing and doing homework and scooping the cat’s litter box) isn’t present during my work day. I’m drained. I’m broken. I feel flawed and cracked, with bitterness seeping out of every pore, and every smack of crude language or burst of temper or snide, condescending remark shatters me a little bit further. It exposes the flaws I had in the first place, the dysfunction that existed before I arrived on scene, and the lack of mentorship I have.
This week was especially tough, and although I’ve been getting stuff done at work (despite two snow days!), I’ve completely and utterly procrastinated on schoolwork. Now I have anxiety that’s 100% my fault, and fun downtime this weekend is out.
Yet . . . right now I’m applauding myself for logging into Blackboard and opening this week’s agenda for every class. It’s the smallest, teeniest little step toward getting things done — but I’m cheering myself on because this week, doing that one step was harder for me than writing a paper last week. And I think it’s harder because with every job application I send out, and every crummy thing that happens at work, trying to do homework is like trying to focus on a meeting when your house is on fire. And I’m a little drained from the increasing trips to the back room at work so that I can cry for a few minutes before dealing with the next frustration.
So . . . why am I writing all this? Because this is the reality of how messy life gets sometimes. The reality of what it looks like when the hope you had burns out. And if you’re in a space of hopelessness, lacking direction and guidance, I want to comfort you with words that I desperately need to hear myself:
Your situation is not hopeless. You are not a lost cause. There is an end date to what you are going through. The people around you have value; you have value, and God is making all things — including you — new.
O Ephraim, what have I to do with idols?
It is I who answer and look after you.
I am like an evergreen cypress;
from me comes your fruit.
— Hosea 14:8, ESV