Don't cry, baby. Don't cry.

I have had hours, or so, of almost having a breakdown. Not every day. But, a lot of days.

Such despair.
Such sadness.
Overwhelming overwhelm-ness.
Anger. A lot of anger.

Just when I think these feelings won't ever go away...they at least lesssen. Talking sense into myself is exhausting. I get so mentally fatigued. I am so pissed. This is not helpful, because it makes me judge myself, and not like myself. Which keeps the shitty cycle going. Have I mentioned this is not helpful?

I think, how can keep digging my nails into the cliff to keep from falling into the abyss? Honestly, I don't know. I just do. I must. I could choose not to...but that is scary as hell.

We (my husband and I) are in a precarious financial situation. We are trusting God for His provision, and He never let's us down. I am human (the fact that I just wrote that makes me chuckle.) This means I still default to worry. Before I quit my job in April, I had been agonizing over what other type of job I could do to replace that income. I came up with nada. My health was suffering over the stress though, and I had to quit without a plan.

I have been freed up to follow my art dreams. Yay!!

This sounds easy, but it's not. Well, not exactly. I was letting myself get depressed, which lead to no painting. Counter productive to say the least. I talk too much to myself in my head, and it turns into a very bad neighborhood pretty quickly. I should never venture there alone too long.

Do I get a part time job so there is money coming in that we can count on? But, that question puts me right back to where I started. What would I do??????

I worked at a job that didn't love for 16 and a half years. I quit when my second child was born. Then, 2 years later,  my third was born. About a year later, I started to battle against mental health issues. I was unable to work even if I wanted to. I had three children by this time, and I was...well, not in a very good place for a long time.

I started my holiday window painting in 1997, and that was my source of income. It was manageable, because it was flexible. I have had four part time jobs in the last four years which has been quite an accomplishment, because I never thought I could work a "real" job again.

Going back to my stresses of late...where will the money come from? I am never guaranteed of income. Get a "real" job? ...ugh!

I had a dream last night. I thought about going back to the company I worked for 18 years ago. I cried and cried and cried. I thought about going back to another job I had, but there was so too much "stuff" there that was not healthy to go back to. I cried and cried and cried. Then a voice spoke very loud to me..."just fucking paint!! Just do it. This is what you want. This is what makes you happy. This, despite any stress, is worth it! It's right in front of you. Just fucking paint!!"

I woke convicted.
I woke up revived.
I woke up to my purpose.

I worked on sketches for commissioned work. Duh. I had been dragging feet.

I worked on some new paintings that I had been asked to do. A client wants to hang them in her shop to sell. Duh.

I tend to create such a war in my head, and I get so exhausted.

I'd like to say that I will quit doing this, but it is always lurking. This is why I'm grateful that I will always keep my nails dug in.

I didn't cry today. I did some things that kept me living my dream. I moved forward. Slowly, but I still moved forward.

Yay, me!!