So, lately I've been very depressed. I don't think it was caused by any one particular thing, but I've reached some sort of crisis point. Last night I told my husband if we had one more crisis, I would have a nervous breakdown...I simply would not survive. I don't know if this is true or not...even when I think I'm on empty, I usually manage to squeak through somehow. But it was how I felt at the time.
It was a weird day; I felt as if I were drunk or underwater. I kept partially dozing off, kept feeling like I was about to cry or vomit or something. It got a little better after I went to bed. I've been neglecting my spiritual life lately, being sleep-deprived and all, but last night I had this random urge to read Job, which wound up suiting me very well indeed.
I know, I know, it sounds like I'm wallowing in misery. But consider the following:
1. Job is pure poetry...good poetry always improves my state of mind.
2. Job was definitely in worse shape than me...perspective always helps.
3. When you're sad, you don't want to read something happy...it will just annoy you. Reading something dark allows you to validate your feelings and begin to move through them.
I did feel sorry for Job's wife, though...SHE lost everything, as well, but HE was the one with the luxury of wallowing in the ash pit. No one came from Idumea to comfort HER! Typical guy.
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