I am a mess tonight.
So I'm doing a little bit of blogging therapy. Sorry about this.
It's silly really. I used to do a fair amount of public speaking.
I used to pride myself with my ability to remain fairly unemotional when speaking in front of groups of people. Of course, it's easy to do so when talking about "how to make your curriculum work for you" or "the stages of early childhood development."
After I got hurt and started to speak to more church groups, my public speaking grew a bit more emotional. As you can imagine. But over time, I was able to learn to focus myself and get through a talk with only a stray tear or two. Which is quite a feat. Subjects like infertility, a health crisis (or four) and financial ruin aren't the most comfortable of topics for people to listen to, let alone for me to talk about.
There came a time, however, when the tears started to flow more frequently. And then they just wouldn't stop. We were right in the middle of some anguishing times. The hurt was fresh. And every time I talked about it it seemed as if I were relieving some of those more despairing moments all over again.
Over the past few years I haven't had as many opportunities to speak. I spoke to a ladies group a few weeks ago. Yes. There were tears And yes, those ladies knew to expect them. These ladies were my friends. Still. I was disappointed in myself.
A few weeks ago, the program director at our local Y called me and asked if I would come and speak to some of the employees there at the Y. Of course, I said yes.
However, the more I thought about it the more I worried. You see, she wanted for me to talk about something of the difficulties I had experienced physically and how the Y had benefited myself and my family. We have benefited from their financial assistance program for a few years now.
I can talk about a great many things without crying. I can talk to you about my weight loss. I can discuss the benefits of Thrift Store shopping. I probably could also present a pretty good lecture on Doctor Who. "Why You Should Just Get Over Your Phobia of Time Traveling Phone Boxes and Just Watch."
I have been chronically ill or physically impaired for 17 years. I have been infertile for 22. I have suffered the guilt of surviving when others with my condition didn't. I have known what it was like to feel worthless, unlovable and broken. I have watched my family struggle over and over again....all because of me and my issues. Yet. I have seen great hope and healing. I have seen miracles in my life and answers to promises given. It's hard not to cry.
For a week I thought about what I would say. I prayed that my funny gene would kick in and I would laugh more than cry. I assured myself that I could talk about those broken places...and not cry.
It didn't work. I still bawled in front of 20 folks. Most I didn't know.
I left feeling a bit ashamed. Josiah told me that I did a great job and "Mom! You just don't need to get so uptight!"
He's right. It's just so stinkin' hard. This living a real life.