Funky, Funky

Man, I'm in a funk. A true, weighty, bonafide funk. I can feel it inside and out, physically, emotionally and spiritually. If I could watch me, I would see it: in the lack of twinkle in my eyes, in the way a smile doesn't quite make it to my lips often enough and in the way laughter seems like a long-lost treasure buried deep beneath.

I'm not writing now so I can send 'negative energy' out into the world or to illicit uplifting comments to make me feel better. Heck, no one will probably even know these words exist because I'm not going to promote them anywhere. This post is just for me because I realize how much I stay away from published words when I don't have something "positive" to write.

It's not that people could look at my life from the outside in and think "her life sucks". I'm not homeless. Actually, I quite like the little abode we live in. It's the one place I've lived in since being married that most fits my tastes for a home. I have food in my pantry and refrigerator, albeit I wish Mr. Budget had more room for much healthier choices. I have a car that gets me everywhere I need to go. I have clothes to wear everyday and a warm bed to sleep in at night. I even have a set of white twinkle lights strewn along my fireplace mantle. Oh, how I really do love twinkle lights. There's something quite magical about them to me.

And yet, here I am writing about funk.

I've thought about this funk a lot lately in my downtime, probably because I both ended last year and began this new year battling sickness. My 10-day head cold in December didn't knock me off my feet, it just added fatigue and fogginess to my everyday schedule. But this flu that came raging in in January did. Yesterday was the first day in nine days that I woke up and felt like Mr. Life-Sucking Fatigue was gone. Seriously. I felt 82-years-old with this bug--a fraile, drained, unhealthy 82.

And this dance with our finances? I'm ready to stop spinning and get off the floor--to sit down and rest. 2012 was another tough year when it comes to our budget, and while God strengthened my courage more days than I can count and deposited hope when circumstances were bleak, I can honestly say that I so want things to turn around now. I'm longing to make a budget instead of just being able to pay a bill when a freelance job comes around. I'm longing to tackle what remains of our debt instead of incur more. I'm longing to thrive and not just survive--to look forward to an upcoming birthday or holiday and not fear the cost associated with it. I'm longing to climb into the boat instead of wading in the water holding onto the life preserver. I know that sounds dramatic, but it's how I feel.

And my marriage? Well, we're in the beginning stages of learning "differently", with a trusted friend and pastor coming alongside to help us see and think differently. But that doesn't mean that the toll of choices and circumstances hasn't been exacted. Blended family. Baggage from previous marriages. Brokenness being uncovered and still in the process of healing. It's all taken its toll. I never dreamed that marriage would be such a battle to survive, but these past five (almost six) years have been more battle than refuge. Marriage is never easy, but I don't think I ever considered how difficult blended marriage would be. Building a life with someone you didn't grow up with takes work and courage and determination, but trying to do that and navigate the rough ocean of exes and kids you only get to influence and not parent and financial struggles ... well, that's a perfect storm that's bound to leave wreckage in its path.

I'm realizing how much a long battle with anything drains the human soul, let alone multiple battles.