Last week was awful. I know I should blog about positive things, and tell the whole world that everything in my life is perfect (that seems to be the trend on blogs). But, guess what? This is my blog, and my outlet, and I get to do as I damn-well please.
I'm not going to lie: last week was hard. Last week was a week of tears and yelling. I don't yell, so that should tell you that something was up.
Last week I thought my world was coming apart. Someone very important lied to me. I cried when they lied. They apologized. Then they lied again. And again. I still don't know if I received the whole truth. I couldn't accept their apology the first ten times they said "I'm sorry," which isn't like me. Eventually, I accepted, but I'm still sore from last week. I feel like I can't sleep enough. Work is a drain, jiu-jitsu feels like some form of torture, and tasks like shaving my legs still feel exhausting.
I have learned over the past week that I am strong. Stronger than I could have dreamed. With the final lie I erupted, "This is a problem with you. This is not my fault. I am smart, funny, caring, determined, educated, and pretty. I don't deserve this!" I was right, and the person knew it.
Things are getting back to normal, but this is one of those situations that will take time. I think I'm being asked to have faith. Faith is believing that something is true in spite of the evidence. Faith is something that I detest. I don't think faith is admirable, and I don't think it should be put on a pedestal; I don't admire people for their faith. But, sometimes I understand that the thin line between faith and hope is blurred.
Hope is when you have evidence that things can change. Hope is an investment and requires work. With hope there is a trend that indicates something will change (at least that's what it means to me). I can't tell if I am learning to have faith or hope. I'm leaning towards hope, because that makes me feel more secure.