WHAT DO I DO WITH ME NOW? 💔😭✍️

Beloveds,

I am writing through tears tonight.

Ah, God…

What do I DO with ME now?

Someone I love is not in love with me very much right now.

And there is no judgment here.

None.

Because I understand.

After my stroke, I was sooooo very…

I don’t even know what word belongs there.

Angry?

Terrified?

Confused?

Exhausted?

Grieving?

Probably all of it. 🧠💔

During those first days, I was angry. I slapped stuff around. I brought confusion and hurt into a house filled with people who loved me.

People who were trying to help me.

People who didn’t understand what was happening to me any more than I did.

And eventually, I got some act right. 😩😆

But getting some act right doesn’t erase what happened before I got it.

And now some of the blowback has arrived.

Ouch.

💔

I understand it.

I’d probably be angry too.

And understanding somebody else’s pain does NOT mean mine doesn’t hurt.

It hurts.

Fam, I’m sorry.

Jesus, I’m sorry.

God, I am so sorry.

I was so tired.

So terrible sometimes.

And underneath so much of it…

I was terrified.

😭

I was terrified because my life had changed.

My body had changed.

My brain had changed.

Things that used to belong to me without thought suddenly required effort.

And people were trying to love me while I was trying to understand who the heck ME even was anymore.

And here is one of the hardest things I have had to admit:

I did not allow love to love me.

💔❤️

Love came toward me, and sometimes fear answered the door.

Love tried to help me, and sometimes anger answered.

Love reached for me, and sometimes grief slapped its hand away.

That doesn’t make what I did okay.

But if I’m going to tell the truth about my behavior, I am going to tell the truth about my broken heart too.

Accountability does not require self-hatred.

I can say:

I hurt you.

I was wrong.

I understand why you’re angry.

I am sorry.

I wish I had handled things differently.

I am working on me.

And then I can resist adding:

Therefore, I am horrible and unworthy of love.

Nah, fam.

That’s not accountability.

That’s punishment.

And punishment cannot change yesterday anyway.

So what do I do with me now?

😭✍️🙏

I love her.

I teach her.

I correct her.

I forgive her.

I let her cry.

I make her apologize when she needs to apologize.

I make her listen when somebody else needs to tell their truth.

I remind her that being wounded does not give her permission to wound people.

And then…

I refuse to throw her away.

Because she’s me.

And I still have to live with her tomorrow.

Maybe somebody reading this needs that tonight.

Maybe you’ve made a mess too.

Maybe fear made you somebody you barely recognized.

Maybe grief came out sideways.

Maybe somebody you love is still angry about something you’ve already cried a thousand tears over.

Don’t demand that they hurry up and forgive you.

Give them room.

Love them enough to let their hurt be real.

But, beloved…

give yourself room to become different too.

Repentance means I don’t have to remain who I was in my worst moment.

God can work with a mess.

Good thing too, because whew…

💩😭😩❤️‍🔥

He and I have had some MATERIAL to work with.

And tonight?

I’m heartbroken.

I’m tired.

I can’t sleep.

I had been trying to prepare posts so I could schedule some daily love and disappear for a little while.

I wanted to leave encouragement behind while I preparedfor Outpatient Therapy next week.

But tonight my heartbreak got louder than my plans.

And for one little moment I wondered:

Who cares about all this anyway?

I do.

There.

That’s my answer.

I do.

I care about the person somewhere crying because somebody they love is angry with them.

I care about the stroke survivor who doesn’t recognize themselves anymore.

I care about the caregiver who got hurt while trying to help.

I care about the family trying to love somebody through something none of them were prepared for.

I care about the person ashamed of how fear changed their behavior.

I care about the one wondering whether they’ve messed things up beyond repair.

And I care about me too.

So I shall keep writing through these tears.

✍️😭❤️‍🔥

And in two days, I begin Outpatient Therapy.

YAAASSS.

I may cry all the way until Tuesday. 😭😩🏃‍♀️

Fine.

I’ll show up with swollen eyes.

I’ll show up tired.

I’ll show up heartbroken.

I’ll show up scared.

But I WILL SHOW UP.

Because healing doesn’t require me to stop hurting before I begin.

Maybe that’s tonight’s lesson.

You can be sorry and still deserve tomorrow.

You can have hurt people and become safer.

You can understand somebody’s anger and grieve the distance between you.

You can lose somebody’s trust for a season without losing your responsibility to become trustworthy.

You can cry while you heal.

And you can begin while your heart is still broken.

💔➡️❤️‍🔥

“A broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.” — Psalm 51:17 KJV

So, God…

Here is mine.

Broken.

Sorry.

Tired.

Terrified.

Still loving.

Still learning.

Still Yours.

And still here.

🙏😭❤️‍🔥

Cassandra Challenge:
Before you condemn yourself for the worst season of your life, ask yourself:

What was happening inside me? What do I need to own? Who deserves an apology? And what can I do differently now?

Don’t use your pain as an excuse.

But don’t use your mistakes as a weapon against yourself either.

Tell the truth.

Make amends where you can.

Learn.

Love.

And begin.

Again.

Victory tonight: I am crying, but I am still writing.

And apparently…

these tears have ink in them. ✍️😭❤️‍🔥

Be encouraged, beloveds.

I’m trying to be too.

Asking for A Friend,
Cassandra

#YourLifeMattersToMe

Note: One step. One step. One step. You are loved. You are NOT alone. Keep on being…YOU!

Unapologetically His.
Unapologetically yours. ❤️‍🔥