Holding back the years
Chance for me to escape from all I’ve known
Holding back the tears
Cause nothing here has grown
I’ve wasted all my tears
Wasted all those years
And nothing had the chance to be good
Nothing ever could yeah
I’ll keep holding on
That pretty much sums up the last 20 plus years of my life. What was I holding on for? What was I connected to? I thought as long as I kept getting up and showing up every day, that I was making it. I couldn't see myself in the mirror as who I really was. Most days, I barely looked.
Knowing God was in my life, I felt like I was supposed to take on all the responsibility for everything in my life and everyone that I was connected to. Particularly my sons. I'm pretty sure that no one expected me to try and bear the burden alone; I just didn't know how to ask and didn't want to admit that I felt the struggle was so overwhelming that I was losing my grip. God never said that I was supposed to figure it out for myself and go it alone in this life.
Crying was out of the question. If I started to cry I was afraid I wouldn't stop. If I started to cry I was afraid I would begin to feel sorry for myself and that would get me nowhere. At times it feels as if I've wasted a lot of years. I'm on this train track, and the train is approaching so quickly but I'm frozen in the headlight.
I'll keep holding on.
Now, I'm holding on by holding hands, so to speak with my recovery group. I'm holding on by sharing my concerns and hurts and anguish with those that are in my trusted circle of confidants. I'm holding on by not holding onto secrets anymore.
Then God promises me:
"All those prayers are coming together now so you will do this well, fearless in your struggle, keeping a firm grip on your faith and on yourself. After all, this is a fight we're in." 1 Tim 1:19