puzzle pieces and baggage

If you continue to read this post, please do it prayerfully and not judgmentally. These are personal feelings and thoughts that I am having. Thank you!


I feel life is just one giant puzzle. All the parts that make us up (or all the masks that we wear) are pieces that make up this puzzle. When your puzzle becomes over crowded, you adjust some of the pieces to make your puzzle fit together again, whether that be by taking pieces out or just adjusting them, or moving them around, to make them fit better.

About six months after we moved up here, my puzzle consisted of the usual pieces: born again Christian, wife, daughter, sister, friend...then there was researcher (my current employment field), singer (church choir), leader (vocal team member), teacher (children's choir), and I'm sure others. My puzzle was full, not overwhelming, and it made sense. Soon my puzzle changed. I became a student. Due to this shift I needed to remove one of my pieces, and that ended up being teacher. I quite helping with children's choir.

On September 4, 2009 I added one of the largest pieces yet, mother. This one piece held with it care giver, feeder, clother, bather, changer, lover, and so many more things. It also, for me, came with the feelings of overwhelment (which I don't think is even a word, but we'll go with it), despair, seclusion, doubt, and eventually depression.

I loved my child from the moment she was conceived (and please don't anyone think any differently). However, I did not get that instant connection with her. She and I fought a lot when she was first born. She was colicky, so she would scream in my face no matter what I did for her and no matter how much I loved on her. There would be times when I thought I couldn't go on any longer being with her. All of this took its toll on me physically, emotionally, and mentally.

When I went for my 6 week postpartum check up, I talked with my doctor about these feelings. She suggested I go talk with a counselor to try to work through some of these feelings that I had. I didn't ever go. I started back to work soon after that, and I thought that would help me feel back to "normal" (it would at least take the seclusion out of the equation). It was just adding back another piece to my puzzle that had not been there for 8 weeks. It didn't help things at all. It just made me feel more overwhelmed than I already was. Then I started back to choir and vocal team, again more pieces added back to my already jumbled puzzle. But, I think the final straw came when I started back to school. This one extra piece of student threw me and my puzzle into shambles.

For the last two months, I have known that I needed to go talk to someone. I have always had trust issues in general, so I chose not to go talk to our counselor at church. I knew she would be able to help me, and that it would be in a Christian environment. I have always trusted her, and I had been to her before for anger issues...but it was just something about this situation that I didn't want to talk about to anyone.

After all this time, I just haven't been myself. I haven't even wanted to go to church. I would make up excuses not to go, but thank God I have a husband that is a man of God. He is a Godly husband and a Godly father and, most importantly, a Godly head of the household. He drug me to church because that is what he is called to do being in those positions. After thinking about it a lot today, I think I wasn't wanting to go because I knew God would tell me to get the help I knew needed.

This morning our pastor preached on baggage. We all have it, but we all deal with it differently. We should give it over to God and accept His forgiveness and love. I usually tend to hold on to mine. I give it up occasionally...I mean I don't have "skeletons in my closet" type of baggage. I have fears, doubts, and for the first time ever depression. God had been working on me during this sermon. I knew I needed to do something about it all (basically suck up my pride and just get help!). Our counselor walked in at the end of the sermon (she never does this). I knew God was pushing me to go talk to her, so I did.

I sit here typing this in tears due to the overwhelming feelings that I have regarding all of this. For the first time I have relief and peace about a situation that has haunted me and hung over my head for five months. I don't tell you this so that you will judge me or think less of me (which hopefully none of you ever would). I tell you all of this openly because I need to be honest with myself, God, and others to be able to get through all of it. I hope that whoever is reading this will pray for me and lift me up instead of judge and tear me down. I would really appreciate your thoughts and prayers during this time.

Jess