I got to spend some quality time outside for the first time in a while. Just being outside and away from people helps me breathe better. Lately, I’ve felt like my mind was on fire. And I couldn’t stop the pain from coming–nor could I get it to leave.

I am so tired. all. the. time. Maybe it’s the residual effect of finally being free of fundamentalism and less influenced by my parents.

Either way, I don’t know how to rest now that I’m safe. Why can’t the world stop for one second so I can catch my breath? And yet, it spins on–the news cycle continues to be exhausting, bad things keep happening.

But still, here I am, breathing. Breathe in. Breathe out. In this moment, everything is ok. I am ok. And it’s ok when I’m not ok, too. Everything hurts, but for a moment, it doesn’t hurt quite as much.

I can hear traffic but it’s just background noise. A few moments ago, I heard church bells off in the distance and that was calming, too. Maybe because I’ve found God more in the middle of the woods than in a sanctuary.

I’m…not ok. Will I ever be ok? What does being ok look like? Doubt has wreaked havoc again in my soul. Am I…good enough? Am I…good? Does the God I believe in–does that God hear me? How can I pray for others and pastor others when I need those things myself?

Will people still love me when I’m like this? Everything hurts. Will it ever stop hurting?

Maybe if I stopped asking so many questions, I’d be better off…

My subconscious has been screaming out for everything to just stop. I find myself lying on the floor curled up in the fetal position crying for no reason. Or for every reason. How can I help others when I need help myself?

And it’s not like I don’t have really good friends helping me. But yet…I still feel like I have to hide the darker parts of my mental illnesses. Because maybe you wouldn’t understand. Or if you do understand, will you run the other way?

All I know is…I want to walk alongside you hand in hand. And I won’t let anyone hurt you. They’ll have to deal with me if they do. And I know…somehow I still know God is for us. You matter and you’re loved and worthy of love. And I’ll keep fighting to keep you safe. But yet, I doubt that you’d all do the same for me. Because…maybe I’m not good enough. And imposter syndrome is a thing.

Still. Here I am. Breathing. Breathe in. Breathe out. Just keep breathing. Just keep loving.