Carrying Myself Forward

 Over the last few days, I’ve felt like a different person. My emotions have not been stable, and I’ve been trying to understand who I am in this moment while still forcing myself to move forward. It feels unfamiliar like I’m watching myself operate rather than living naturally inside my own choices.

The weight hits hardest at night and in the middle of the day. Loud sounds, negativity, and things I hear or see unexpectedly trigger it. It’s as if my nervous system is already stretched thin, and anything added on top pushes me further out of balance.

Reading used to be something I enjoyed. Now it feels like a task I have to force myself into. I still do it, but the joy is missing. That part hurts more than the discipline itself because it reminds me that something inside me feels disconnected.

I’ve still fallen into sin. The more I think about it, the stronger it becomes, and it feels almost inevitable at times. At the same time, my mother is coming to visit, and I’m trying to be positive, to smile, to show strength even when I don’t feel it internally.

God is still present. I pray. I touch the cross I wear and thank Him for what I have. But I know I need to bring Him deeper into my life, and I’m realizing that knowing this doesn’t make it easy to do.

I often ask God for money, yet I see how I spend to please others and to fill something in myself. I know I have knowledge, skills, and tools especially with my work and social media, but I don’t always apply them with discipline or intention. I want to do better. I want alignment between what I know and how I live.

Writing remains the one place where things slow down enough for me to see clearly.

Prayer

God,

I come to You tired, not polished.

My emotions feel unfamiliar, and I don’t always trust myself right now.

I’m trying to move forward even when I don’t feel strong enough to enjoy the journey.

The noise of the world overwhelms me.

The night feels heavy.

The middle of the day feels endless.

Please quiet what is loud inside me.

I confess my weakness.

I fall even when I don’t want to.

I think about sin, and it pulls me closer instead of farther away.

Still, I don’t want to stay there.

Help me lead with integrity not appearances.

Help me welcome my mother with honesty and warmth, not just a forced smile.

I ask You for provision but teach me stewardship.

Teach me restraint.

Teach me to use what I already have instead of asking for more without discipline.

I wear this cross not as decoration, but as a reminder that You are near even when I struggle to bring 

You are closer.

Meet me where I am.

Strengthen me where I’m weak.

Guide me forward, step by step.

Amen.

Poem

I feel like someone I don’t yet know,

Wearing my face, but moving slow,

Trying to walk a path ahead

While questioning the thoughts I’ve fed.

The night grows heavy on my chest,

Midday offers little rest,

Every sound, both sharp and loud,

Pulls me deeper into the crowd.

What once brought joy now feels like strain,

Turning pages feels the same,

Discipline replaces choice,

Duty silencing my voice.

I fall again where I once stood,

Knowing wrong but choosing would,

Thoughts grow stronger when they stay,

Pulling me closer every day.

Still, I reach for what I wear,

A cross that says You’re always there,

A quiet sign I’m not alone,

Even when I’ve overgrown.

I smile for those who come my way,

Hide the weight I carry daily,

Trying hard to seem okay

While unsure of who I’m meant to be.

I ask for money, ask for peace,

Spend to feel the pressure cease,

Yet I know I hold the key

To discipline and clarity.

Still, I write and still I pray,

Still, I choose to face each day,

Not because I feel so strong,

But because I know what’s wrong.

Maybe faith is staying here,

Maybe healing’s not so clear,

Maybe growth is simply found

In standing up after the ground.