bloody kersplat

Last updated on: December 3, 2008 at 4:52 am by Grace Sandra

bloody kersplat 2008-12-03T04:52:13-04:00 Grace Sandra

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Last week I was on cloud 9. Between the prospect of meeting Anne Lammot, (whilst handing her a copy of my manuscript), my great weekend in TN, and feeling 100% inspired to work on and eventually finish this book, life was feeling darn grand.

But then all of a sudden I felt I got punched in the stomach, lost my footing on cloud #9 & then fell to the earth in a bloody kersplat.

Where to begin? First off, some of the writing I did during my Thanksgiving break… well, it downright depressed me. New memories & all that jazz. Then it hit me like a brick, what may seem obvious to you only came to me then: if I keep working on the book it’s bound to be a depressing experience. My sweet hubby encouraged me never to right emotionally detached -which I was foolishly trying to do- because what most people love about my writing or speaking is my emotional engagement. So, one night, I ‘went there’ and, well, kersplat.

The next night I got a random email from my Uncle on my dad’s side that he set up a genealogy for our family on one of those family tree sites. It’s actually very cool, but in it examining it I learned a few things. First off, that I have a half-brother named Terrance that I never knew about. kersplat. Second, I was able to see the names and pictures of my father’s mother, her mother & her mother! While this was wonderful at first, it only lasted for a few minutes before the sadness set in about how little I know about my fathers side and how disconnected I am from it in reality. Even on the family tree it’s painfully obvious that I don’t necessarily ‘fit’ in it… off to the side… with some random woman he never married… kersplat.

The next morning, I had to do this pyschological testing thing for school to be deemed an okay candidate for ordination since when I am done with this whole thing I will be an ordained minister of the Gospel. (That’s Rev. Grace Biskie to you… j/k… please don’t ever call me that). Anyway, it was brutal. I made some connections about a number of unhealthy behaviors about myself which are clear signs and symptoms of trauma. It’s one thing to know your experience but wholly another to have an experienced psychiatrist look at you and describe your childhood as “extremely chaotic.” Those connections depressed me deeply. kersplat.

Then later that night I got an email that I did not get a particular role I was hoping to get at work that I had volunteered myself to do. I knew it was a long shot, but I really wanted to work hard and try to do it not just because it would have been like super duper uber fun work experience, but because I wanted to try to grow and challenge myself and broaden my work experience. But, I was rejected. kersplat. Well, actually what she said was that she’d be willing to help me to do the role in the future if I wanted to be trained in it.

Then on the way home from picking up Ransom I slid into and hit a curb, ruining our front tire, rim & hubcap. The car is in the shop. Another $100 down the drain. kersplat. The other car is in the shop right now because last winter I slid into and hit a curb THREE times and it drives terribly in the winter. Lord only knows how much that will cost. kersplat. Now we have no cars and I can’t go to school tomorrow. kersplat.

Tonight after dinner I noticed Ransom has this big rash all over his body, which isn’t a huge thing it’s just another thing to worry about. kersplat.

Last night, I went to sleep telling God I felt like I had peace that can only be explained through his near-ness. It’s always bizarre to feel like you should be a mess, but then somehow God’s grace and peace and presence abound. So impatient. This morning I woke up a hot mess. kersplat. It’s been a rough day. I can feel it in my neck. I needed to study, but I didn’t. I spent an hour watching Britney Spears: For the record MTV documentary on you-tube which only served to pour on the guilt and shame of what a horrible person I am for wasting my precious working hours. And poor Britney!

But this is what I know, God is somehow present in all of this and will get me(us) through & it will be okay. And even if its not okay, it will be okay because nothing can take God away from me, and for so long (but maybe especially in the last two years that I’ve battled depression) I feel like God is all that I have… and need… and want, and that can never, under any circumstances be taken from me…even if my health, my sanity, my husband, my “career”, or my son are taken from me. So, I’m okay even while I’m kersplatting.

It’s okay to grieve chaos in our lives.

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