Tonight I’m in the mood for writing words. It’s 11:37 at night, and I have an essay that needs written, but right now my need to write real words is greater than my need to write the cold, lifeless bits of that essay.
Emptiness. Emptiness denotes an absence, and sometimes a lack of fulfillment. Or sometimes the state that comes before the fulfillment. At 11:37 p.m., right now, I’m currently trudging my feet, and my heart, and my soul through a field of emptiness. Through a field full of unfulfilled dreams, and goals, and late-night broken heart-cries.
Efforts. Sometimes I feel like I try so, so hard. So hard. And with all that trying, all that heartache…nothing. I look around me, and think, ‘It shouldn’t be this difficult. There is no way.‘
And I feel helpless. There is something so heart-wrenching, and leveling, and painful about being faced time and time again with failure. It’s a feeling that stretches right down to the bottom of your soul, something that has dug its way down there over time, until now it is securely lodged and it feels as if nothing in the world could root it out. The future is stretching on and on in front of me, and no matter how hard I desperately search, and move forward, I’m seeing nothing but that failure. It’s a feeling of inadequacy. It’s a feeling of lacking. And it feels so permanent, as if that is all I have ever known, and ever will know – this crawling and enduring sense of failure.
I hate feeling helpless. I despise that feeling above most others. I enjoy being capable, and competent. But there’s this one particular area of my soul where helplessness abounds. I’m usually good at ignoring it, at moving forward in life, with an ever-cheerful spirit and hope for the future. But then every so often, in the quiet moments where it’s just me, and myself, looking at each other in a mirror, I stumble onto that vast field of achy feelings, that realm of helplessness. And then I am broken. The wall of protection I try to build up to keep myself away from that realm turns to rubble around me, and I am left staring at that shadowy field, knowing what is to come. Sometimes I can propel myself past that landmine, but when these moments happen late at night, my propelling abilities weaken and that’s when the tears come out.
Broken. A state of cracks, and holes. That’s what I become in those late-night moments. In those moments, the helplessness, and the circling thoughts, and the emotions pour through the holes in my self-confidence. I pray so, so hard, and I feel the comfort of my Savior as if He were kneeling right next to me, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that He knows me personally, but I still struggle. If it were a matter of belief, or faith, or anything of a more spiritual feel, I would know what to do. I’ve gotten over those types of inadequacies. Not that I’m perfect in those areas at all, but the solutions to those struggles seem more evident in my eyes.
I keep reaching, though. I. know. it. must. get. better. It must, it must, it must. There has to be a turn-around point, a point where all of this work, and all of this endless and seemingly fruitless effort will be worth it. There has to be. I’m working on trust. Trust is that little thread that I cling to in the late-night moments. Trust in my Savior, and the knowledge that He is right there beside me, so it’s going to be okay. I know that He has the infinite power to heal, and to help, and so out of all the things in the world that I can turn to, He is by far the best choice out there.
It’s going to be okay. You are okay. I whisper this to myself in those late-night moments. I will myself to believe it. Sometimes it works, and sometimes it doesn’t. Actually, to level with you here, as of late, it hasn’t been quite as foolproof as it used to be. But I’m trying. And trusting. And moving forward. Those late-night moments happen. Maybe, hopefully, there will be a time when that particular field of shadows is dispelled and I will stumble upon it no more. As of right now, 11:37 p.m., that field is still alive and well,
But I have faith that it will get better. It has to get better. I know it will get better.
After-note: I know that a lot of people that know me in real life read this blog, so just FYI, I am okay. Writing helps get all of my emotions out, and I am doing fine! :)
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11 thoughts on “brokenness in late-night moments”
My goodness, Tessa. What has got you feeling empty, broken, helpless, unfulfilled and feeling like a failure? You must have had a very bad day. I hope you’re feeling better tomorrow, but know that I don’t see you in any of those adjectives. I love you.
Love, Grandma B
Aw thank you so much Grandma! Thank you for your love! Yes, today is a better day. I’m okay, I promise! :)
Oh, Tessa. :( I empathise very much. Sometimes it’s hormones (I speak from experience). You seem like to very sensitive person, and sensitive people don’t have it easy in the world. But you’re also a super thoughtful, intelligent gal with a big heart. That will get you through a lot. These moments can be really horrible, but this, too, will pass. :) Like everything else, you know? Please don’t identify with it too much– remember that it is NOT the truth and NOT reality; just a big cloud of strong emotions colouring everything grey. Nasty things, feelings, sometimes. Don’t fight them. Just breath, look at them, watch them play, and then do something that normally makes you feel better. Hot chocolate? :)
That would be “just breathe”. :) I hope I am not coming across as too sanctimonious. I’ve had to learn all this too, over many years.
Love your comments, Journette!
Oh! Thanks very much, Shawna! :) Just speaking from the heart.
Oh my goodness, thank you so much for your words! Reading your comment definitely lifted my spirits, and it didn’t come across as sanctimonious at all – it was everything comforting and encouraging to put my mind back in the right place. Thank you! I’m so grateful for wonderful people like you that I’ve come to meet through blogging!
The feeling is mutual! I’m glad I could help in some way; helps gives a new dimension to my life experiences, unpleasant as well as pleasant. Please cut yourself some slack for being a sensitive person. We feel more intensely than the average and our emotional lessons can be more challenging because of that; but life is coloured much more richly and deeply because of it too. :)
I struggle with these feelings nearly every day of my life. I can’t pretend to know the answers as I am still searching myself. But remember this….you have worth just by being. Failure or success does not measure worth. Try failing on purpose some time. It is strangely freeing. You begin to realize that life moves on with failure. People still talk to you and love you. It has a way of releasing you from that foreboding feeling that comes with self-imposed expectations. I hope you have a wonderful day, Tessa. And remember…you are not alone. :0)
Shawna, I empathise very much. I have depression, which I have learnt to manage with medication and therapy, in a very matter-of-fact way. One of the things, ironically, that has helped me manage the emotional side of depression is my belief in relativity. Failure or success are judgements. They are not absolute. One person’s nectar is another’s poison. The idea of a high-powered corporate banking job, for example, makes me feel nauseous. It is many people’s idea of success, I’m sure. Having a big house with the husband and 2.5 kids is another example. I am not particular about having children, and I prefer apartments to houses. I have never understood that desire. It is another “success” that I am indifferent to. I am sure you can think of examples of your own. Everything just IS, and you are whatever you are. Everything else is judgement and labelling.
Thank you so, so much! You have no idea how much I appreciate your words. Thank you for the comfort, and the encouragement, and the guidance. It added some extra sunshine to my day, which was just what I needed! Thank you, again! :)