Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
– Matthew 5:4 (NRSV)
Things are very much not okay right now. There’s so much crap going down all over the world (see: wars, hurricanes, political shams, etc.) that it’s hard to tell if I just notice all the bad in the world now that I’m older, or if things really are getting worse. It’s become very hard to hold onto hope amidst all this chaos.
And then there’s my wreck of a personal life. These past few years have been the most growing I’ve ever experienced, but they’ve also been the most trying. This year in particular has wounded me the deepest, and I’ve never felt closer to the brink of falling apart. In the span of the last 12 months, I:
- publicly came out to the Christian church
- grappled with a racial/national/ethnic identity crisis
- mourned a nationwide tragedy among the LGBT+ community
- changed my theological stance on human sexuality and began my first serious relationship, which subsequently ended
- lost my father
- am now struggling with crippling self-doubt about my future while juggling an inane number of responsibilities
I might as well buy a t-shirt that says “emotionally unstable” on the front. Living under the weight of everything above, plus generalized depression and anxiety, has taken its toll on me. I am an expert at pretending to be okay, but I can’t continue to do that every time someone asks me how I’m doing. Because the truth is this:
I am broken.