Last night I cried myself to sleep. Nothing bad had happened. Nothing bad is going on in my life, and yet I cried myself to sleep. I sobbed, actually.
I have a godly, loving, hardworking husband. I have kids who love Jesus and are fun to be around. I have good friends and a good relationship with all of my siblings. But I sobbed.
I have a personal relationship with God. With GOD! I love Him very much and want to bring Him glory by how I live my life. And yet I cried myself to sleep.
I have a big, warm house. I have a healthy family. We have enough money. I had just gotten out of the hot tub. I have a hot tub! And yet, I sobbed.
Nothing on the outside was wrong. Nothing in my heart was wrong. But I have a mental illness, and sometimes that means my brain doesn’t work and it makes me think I’m very sad. It doesn’t tell my why I’m sad. I can’t choose to not be sad. So I cried myself to sleep. And when I woke up, my eyes were puffy but I wasn’t crying anymore and something had broken and I was able to move forward again.