When all you want to do is sleep

“All I want to do is sleep”

A friend texted me in tears this morning. Unable to overcome the waves of anxiety and depression, she’d stepped out of the office and was hiding in the hallway, trying desperately to stop crying. “Nothing helps besides sleep,” she wrote. “I just want to go home and sleep.”

My heart broke for her. I remember hiding in the restroom at work, trying to control my own flow of tears. It felt like 5:00 would never come and all I wanted to do was to cry myself to sleep. Wake me when it’s over; like a turtle, I wanted to hibernate.

Imagine being able to simply shut down and snooze for a long period every year –doesn’t that sound heavenly? Preferably right after the last leaves fall until, oh, I don’t know… April 16th? Works for me.

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Why you will never understand addiction

Don’t miss the giveaway at the end of post!

Who hasn’t known the heartache of having a friend or loved one who struggles with addiction? The never-ending cycle of hope vs. hopelessness, of wanting to help but feeling helpless… it will (and should) drive you to your knees, which is why I’ve invited my good friend, Paula Jauch to share at my table today. I first met Paula at a writers conference; we were both rookies, searching for a way to get our words out into the world. Well, friends, her voice comes through loud and clear because she. speaks. truth. Hard-won truth, because she’s been there. The words she shares are written from a place of brokenness and healing.

This past fall I woke up to a message on my phone with a picture of a beautiful baby boy who had just been born into our family. The text was from one of my family members whose daughter had just given birth to this precious child. But what I wasn’t prepared for was the text that followed:

“Please keep her and her son in your prayers; she is being arrested because they found heroin in the baby’s system and her baby boy is being placed in protected custody. In the meantime he will be kept in the hospital to wean him off of the drug.”

I know this is a pretty heavy story to share but this is the kind of stuff I grew up with all my life and I still hear small glimpses of these types of stories from my family and many other families.

Please take notice that I said “small glimpses;” I have to be very careful of what I allow into my life or what I am willing to listen to. I can’t control everything I hear but I know from experience the repercussions of being absorbed into the family’s dysfunction from addiction: reliving the trauma and wounds to the degree that would prevent me from moving forward. And I desperately want to move forward.

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