Queen of Woe

Polite conversation often begins with questions like, “how are you doing?” and “how has your summer been?”  The average person would say “great” or “not bad.” 

I’m not the average person. 

My response is often filled with the list of all that could have or did go wrong.  This summer is a perfect example of a perfect storm.  The endless list continues to grow of why it’s been so hard, so stressful, so awful, so frustrating, so angst ridden and so depleting. 

I might have good reasons to complain.  After all, not everyone has to deal with chronic insomnia, a kitchen torn apart for more than 6 weeks, two very active and transitioning baby boys, and jam packed trips that didn’t go very well.

Here’s the thing: my own negativity is killing me and my relationships.

I’m royally sick of my complaining, my whining, my moaning and groaning.  I’m tired of my circumstances dictating my joy.  It seems to take so little for me to think that ‘today’ will be a disaster, a failure, another ‘worst case scenario.’  This Queen of woe has been catastrophizing for too long.  

So now what?  I’ve confessed.  I’m aware.  I am ready for change.  But how do I go from “look there’s one cloud in the sky it’s going to rain,” to “what a beautiful sunny day“[?] 

I’m sure it begins with gratitude.  I’m sure it begins with praise and thanksgiving.  I’m sure it begins with changing my negative thought processes.  But I’m awfully certain that I cannot change alone.  I need help daily, incrementally, to brick by brick remove this barrier to joy.

The weird thing is that I don’t remember always being this way.  Sure I’ve always been a bit of a worrier and am easily dramatic and prone to riding the waves of my emotions.  But I don’t remember always being so negative.  How did I get this way? 

Maybe it’s been the continuous supply of testing circumstances.  Maybe it’s been my health crises after health crises.  Maybe it’s been this journey into the jungles of motherhood.  No matter where or how this started, I am certain that I cannot continue on my current trajectory.  Even if there are good reasons to be on this path, I don't have good reasons to remain on it.

My relationship with my son is suffering, my heart is growing bitter and cold, and whatever God’s good plans for me are, I am sure that they are not this way.

 I am ready for joy.  To choose it.  To fight for it.  To wrestle with my thoughts and emotions.  To claim truth.  To see blessing.