The One Where I Spill My Guts

As I mentioned a few posts ago, God had been going a lot of interior renovations in my heart. Since starting the 54_day Rosary novena a couple of days ago, a lot of what He’s been opening my eyes to for months has become so glaringly obvious that I can no longer deny certain things.

I’ve become selfish. 

I’ve become more of a perfectionist and it’s occasionally turned into terrible frustration. 

I’ve closed my heart to everyone. 

I’ve become someone I don’t like. 

BUT… God has also shown me that not all is lost. Instead of beating myself up for these character traits that I absolutely detest in myself and letting my melancholic temperament take over, He has reminded me that I’m not there these things. Yes, they are a part of me but they don’t have to define me or even becoming a permanent part of me. 

Those who know the trauma I’ve been through (most of which I’ve not publicly shared) can — and have! — accredited these negative traits to what I’ve been through. Not as an excuse to keep acting this way but as an explanation so I can work through it. 

I became selfish when I lost my ability to work more and my savings were depleted. I became more aware of what little I had (financially) and how much I need to make a little last a long time. I also became selfish with my time. Having secondary adrenal insufficiency and having to recover from the year I had last year into the beginning of this year made rest a necessary priority. But I got too used to it — focusing too much on myself and my needs — that I seem to have forgotten what a healthy balance is. 

The perfectionism got worse when I lost my eyesight. I couldn’t do things myself and not getting things done the way I had asked frustrated me. And it still does, though I’m working on it. 

The closing of my heart? That goes back to losing my dad. It’s been 12 years now and I still have that dad-shaped hole in my life. He was the only person I ever truly felt loved me so losing him was a massive blow I’ve never been able to recover from. 

All of these things (and much more) have changed who I am, for better or for worse. I think it’s for worse. Much worse. But, again, not all is lost. I know what’s at the root of all of these things. God is showing me, slowly at time and all at once at other times. He’s showing me the things that have shaped me. He’s shown me where the wounds have come from and how deeply they go in my heart. (I feel deeply and am hurt easily, though I don’t always show it). He has shown me how these things can easily throw me off the path He seems to want me to go down on. 

And He has shown me what I need to do to work on healing and changing for the better. Never has my prayer intention list for this annual Rosary novena been as long, as specific, or as heart-breaking and honest as it is this time around. It’s still selfish in nature but for good. Without sharing all the intentions, let’s just say that I’m asking God to give me the graces to forgive those who’ve hurt me, to learn how to better manage my faults, and how to look at the trauma I’ve been through in a way that I can acknowledge it yet not let it affect me as it has recently. It’s about healing so I can become worthy of Heaven one day. I can’t do that with the anger, resentment, regret, and mourning that I’ve been struggling with lately. Because I *have* been struggling with it. Thankfully, I studied enough psychology to know that this is all because I’ve just recently unrooted the causes and it’s still fresh pain. It’s going to take a lot of work but I’m willing to put in the work because God has not given up on me. 

God sees and knows all. He knows when I do dumb things and why I do them… but he also knows what’s in my heart. He sees me fall flat on my face in spectacular fashion yet He’s always there, patiently waiting for me to get over myself and my stubborn pride before I ask for His help. The parable of the Prodigal Son has been a reoccurring theme in my life these last couple of weeks as I’ve made some major mistakes. He’s opened up His arms and has welcomed me back after my cotton-headed ninny-muggins moments. He has reminded me that He loves me, flaws and all. 

God has shown me my worth. He has shown me that this is only temporary and that I’m not a total lost cause. He has shown me how He still loves me and how He is next to me when I’m on my knees, at times angry and at times heartbroken, tears flowing down my face. 

Our Lady and St. Therese are also there with me. I give thanks to God for giving me such a vivid imagination because I can clearly see them, one on either side of me, holding my hands when I’m in the most pained and most repentant states. 

I’ve seen myself at the foot of the Cross, on my knees, with St. Mary Magdalene covering me from the rain with her embrace. 

I’ve pictured Blessed Carlo Acutis reminding me that I’m stronger than I think; that he’s in my corner, interceding for (at least) the physical and some of the spiritual wounds I have. 

I have St. Philomena and St. Joan of Arc reminding me of the strength and courage I’m capable of mustering up. 

I have St. Kateri reminding me of what’s deep in my heart and how no one will be able to take that away from me. 

These saints, and many more, are helping me in their own ways. I’m learning from them. About humility. The “audacity” to be bold enough to ask God to make me a saint through littleness. About repentance. About strength and courage. About hope and love of others. About being true to myself and not fearing loving Christ with my whole heart. 

Ah, yes. Christ. He’s there as well. He holds my heart. He knows how I long to fall deeper in love with him. He knows what a broken, wounded, flawed bride I would be but, yet, it doesn’t seem like he minds too much as he continues to use my love languages of flowers and music to unexpectedly remind me of how much he loves me and how much I already love him. Anyone remember the blog post I wrote in January 2018 when I wrote that I heard “let (Christ) court you”? This was almost 2 years before I officially began discerning consecrated virginity. I feel like lately he’s reminding me that he has chosen me as his potential bride. He loves me as I am, ugly and horrible parts included, and he can help me through it. Just as an earthly spouse is meant to help their spouse get to Heaven through their vocation of marriage, Christ is more than willing to take me on and do the same for me as a consecrated virgin. I’m still waiting for the chance to talk to Archbishop Gómez to confirm this but I’m at peace either way. 

So, what’s the message of the blog post? I don’t know. I just want to write down my thoughts and feelings somewhere. I guess it’s about hope and perseverance. 

I’ve been through things I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I feel like I’ve aged so much in just the last 2 years. But I am grateful for it all. Even in my moments of anger, resentment, pain, and sadness, I can see that this is for my own good. We all have to go through this “vale of tears” but it’s not for eternity. All I have to do is cling onto my (potential) future Spouse, my “saint squad”, and remind myself that my Heavenly Father will never give up on me. 

Anyway, that’s all I wanted to share. Sorry if it’s a little on the heavy side but, like I said, this is something that was on my heart to share. Even if no one reads it or if it invites ridicule, I 1000% stand by what I wrote as it’s what I think and feel. 

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to listen to a bit of music before I have to take my evening blood pressure reading. Yes, I get it checked twice a day to make sure my (naturally low) blood pressure doesn’t get low enough to need a hospital visit. Secondary adrenal insufficiency people problems. lol. 

I hope you are all well. 

Thanks for reading (if anyone still is) and God bless.