Warning: Serious self pity ahead

Yesterday, I passed out at work. It wasn't for long. There was no one in the store but me when it happened, and for that, I am grateful, but I freaking passed out. This has only happened one other time in my life, and that was the signal that it was time to go on blood pressure medication and get serious about losing weight. Now, despite the medication, my blood pressure is up again. Today was my scheduled day off, and I haven't had the energy to do anything other than just get sucked into the pity pot. I'm also beginning to seriously wonder about breaking mirrors and seven years of bad luck.

In 2001, the economy tanked, and I lost my job. I was a recruiter, and after a decade of finding jobs for people, there were no jobs to be found in my territory.

In 2002, my mother died suddenly, a month after my father was diagnosed with senile dementia, and I became a caregiver, alternating my time between his home an hour and a half away from mine.

In 2003, my daughter came out about being bulimic and anorexic, and we started a a long round of work with doctors, therapists and nutritionists.

In 2004, my father died after we finally had to admit him to an assisted living center and then a nursing home. I still have nightmares about our last night together in my home, when he was gripping a butcher knife by the blade and didn't know who I was.

In 2005, the womanchild beat her eating disorder into submission only to fall prey to the underlying depression and a couple of suicide attempts, followed by weeks, no a couple of months, of hospitalization and a lot more therapy afterwards.

In 2006, my husband lost his job of seventeen years. An unlawful dismissal suit followed, and he had a very difficult time finding another job, leading to a serious depression on his part and straining our already challenged marriage.

In 2007, I was working as a mortgage broker during the credit and housing crisis. Financially, I nearly went belly up and find myself damn near completely starting over.

This year, my husband dies.

I can't believe I really just wrote all that down. I'm literally shaking. Part of me is just saying, "You deserve to feel sorry for yourself now. This is a lot." Part of me is saying, "Wimp, this is just life. Suck it up. A whole lot of people have it much, much worse." I don't like either response. I need room in my heart for some tenderness for myself without the self-pity. I definitely need to feel the strength I know I've had, and the strength that came to me solely by grace.

Part of me is truly appalled that I'm writing this in a public forum, but there is something I learn from being honest. I'm not quite sure what it is. I just know that I do. There is another part of me that is starting to get angry. Really, I've just about had it. Enough is freaking enough. I'm also scared to be angry, and that's just stupid, but it's true. It's not easy getting angry at God, even though I know the Almighty is more than big enough to handle it and can see through it.

I know, even now, deep in the morass of the yuck, that there have been happy times in the last years. I have friends and family who love me. Whenever I have had a real need, it has been met. I know that other difficulties have been averted. I know I've been blessed in many ways.

I also know I need a real break. It's time. Past time.