They start small. A whisper of a thought you’d swat away like you would a fly.
But before long that whisper builds. It becomes a giant chorus of lies.
It usually revolves around me. It sings my imperfections until I’m convinced I’m unlovable.
It shouts my failures until I can no longer withstand its onslaught. I roll over and accept I’m useless. A woman empty of purpose.
I’m laughable. I’m stupid. It’s all my fault. And the world hates me.
Lies. They’re lies.
Somewhere I’ve managed to internalise a laugh or a look, and turn it into something ugly. I tell myself it’s not real. But it sure feels real.
On good days, strong days, I don’t sink into that sticky tar pit. I cling to my husband’s words: “Aggie, don’t believe the lies.”
I somehow walk through it and get to the other side. Where I know I’m loved no matter what lies I tell myself. By my family. By God who gave me life.
On bad days, these truths are hard to see. But these are things I force myself to swallow.
- God is good. And he never ceases to be good.
- I am loved by my family, my friends, and by God who went to the cross for me.
- This pain shall pass. It may seem never ending but respite will come eventually.
- That Jesus is with me through this storm.
These truths are reinforcements against the bleakness. And I know even in the darkest night I am held. Even when I feel most alone.
Mercifully, the lies swamp me infrequently these days. I have come to see the joy that’s waiting for me at the other end.
Yes, I still have rough moments. But these days, after many lessons, I know them for what they are.
For Bloganuary – Day 23. What’s a lie you tell yourself?