Last night, I was talking with a friend about social media and how just down it can make you feel to see everyone else posting happy things while it feels like you just don’t measure up. Even though we know social media is just a snapshot of people’s lives, for the most part, people only post the positive making it seem like their life is so much better and happier than ours. I told her that was one of the reasons why I deleted my Facebook, I barely use Twitter and one of the main reasons I use instagram at all is to follow celebs.
It also made me grateful for this space. Yes, I use my name but for the most part I feel very anonymous on this blog. None of my family knows about it. None of my friends know about it. If you’re here, it’s either from Instagram or some weird search term lol. And I’m thankful for that. I’m thankful to have a spot where I can just vent and not get any backlash from anyone in my daily life. I’m thankful that my Instagram is pretty anonymous too.
Anyways, none of that has anything to do with trials, just a very long side note lol.
Trials. We all have them, are going to have them, may be going through them right now. Trials are hard. (Why they’re called trials haha). I feel like I just started coming to terms with my infertility trial and now I’m going through a new trial. Dementia. I wrote about dementia a couple posts ago so go see that if you want all the details. I feel like I didn’t even get a break between trials. I finally come to terms with my infertility and God was like “ok, next trial”. I feel beaten. I feel distraught. I feel angry. I feel frustrated. Truly, this is not really my trial. It’s not my fight. But I come from a family of , what my hubby likes to call, “fixers”. We like to solve everyone’s problems. We want everyone else to be happy even if we are not. So I guess more than the dementia, being a fixer is my trial.
I want to take my Grandpa’s dementia away. I want that so much for my Grandma and my mom and my uncle. I want them to have him back. (And now I’m crying). Dementia is just the worst thing I’ve seen. It breaks your heart into a thousand tiny pieces. It takes someone you love and leaves a shell of them. They’re still here, they’re still alive but it’s like they’re dead.
I pray SO HARD every night. Just for strength. And peace. And patience. Not only for me but for my grandma, for my mom, for my uncle. For anyone else who is going through this horrific trial of seeing dementia take someone they love.
I just don’t know how much more I can take. And I know I’ll have to take so much more. We’re not at the end of this disease. We’re not even close. There is so much more to lose. There is so much struggle left.
I know God will get us through. I know it with every fiber of my being. But knowing it doesn’t make any of this less difficult. It still hurts every. single. day.
So why trials? Why do we go through them? Because in the end, after all the pain and the hurt, the anger, the frustration, the tears, and everything else, WE WILL BE STRONGER.