There are days that are much better than others...yesterday was one of those days. Things are easily in perspective, my spirits are up, speaking Truth to myself comes easily.
Then there are the other days. My mind intellectually still knows and reflects on Truth and an appropriate perspective. But I'm gray. My mind is a blank, gray slate. Things take twice as long to get done. I'm forcing myself to live and enjoy my day.
Today is one of those days.
I cry. I fight with my husband. I make no sense. My body still thinks it's pregnant and I yell at it (that does a lot of good). My thoughts are a scramble and it takes everything in my power to take them captive under Christ's authority.
I'm grieving and feeling every shred of it. I should be nine weeks tomorrow and raving like a pregnant, hormonal lunatic. Not raving like a miscarrying, hormonal lunatic.
Am I just being dramatic? Should I just get over it? It was, after all, nothing. Like, I'm grieving the loss of...nothing, save for what I THOUGHT was there.
Tomorrow will be a better day.