I can’t believe I’m about to write this. I’m about two-seconds away from closing my laptop and walking away. You see, here’s the thing about blogging—about reaching into the deepest parts of your heart to write something like this: it’s one of the most painful yet rewarding processes you can put yourself through. It’s the epitome of a love-hate relationship. But I know on the other side of this, though, I will think more clearly and that maybe someone else out there will rest assured that they’re not the only one in this boat.

I have been depressed and full of hatered lately—which is the main reason why I haven’t written a post in some time.

As I sit here with my usual cup of tea and read those words, my heart hurts. Out of my eighteen years of life I have never experienced this. I can’t hide the evidence anymore, and I’m done trying to explain why I am not smiling a genuine smile. Maybe you’ve felt this way too. And if you are anything like me, I’m sure you’ve learned to fake it pretty well in a meager attempt to cover it up or ignore it. But whatever my silly excuse is as to why I’ve pushed this under the rug, the underlying issue is breaking the surface. It has been living in my stomach, where it started as hate. But now, after stirring and churning it has risen into my throat, erupting, fast and volcanic, as tears. The tears are hot and acidic. They leave burn marks down my cheeks and a stain on my shirt. I have been clenching my teeth so hard, I’m surprised they haven’t shattered. All I want to say is I hate you, God. I hate you.

But I look at the words once more, and I think to myself, there is nothing I can do but dig into my earthen heart and to create room for God’s grace and tenderness to grow. Because if you know me, you know I’m the opposite of sad, and I do not hate—living like this is tiring and I can’t stand not being myself.

Today, I glance back at what I’ve scribbled in my journal to only find that I’ve been repeating myself over and over, “Lord, I’m tired of this. God free me from whatever this is.”

Shoving back my pride, here I am: Becoming vulnerable to you, readers, and sharing what I’ve been feeling. Even though this is terrifying—opening up to my friends, family and others who can judge me for what I’m feeling—something tells me that maybe, in order to grow from this, I have to swallow my pride whilst keeping my dignity.

I’ve talked to a close friend about how I’ve felt and it was in that conversation where I felt as if a light was being shone on a certain part of my heart  that I’ve kept more of a void. I realised I’d left that pit sitting there for several months, unattended, without nourishment or help. As truth began to infuse the cavity in my core, feelings of deep loneliness, inadequacy, sadness, hatred and fatigue were forced to face the light. I was uncomfortable. Yet, I knew from experience that having your heart pruned never feels pleasant, so I took a breath and made up my mind to clear out the old storage closet.

As I wait for the Lord to free me from this time, I’ve found that taking  hot showers, munching on carrots, painting, watching Mad Men on Netflix, running in my neighbourhood, and simply just letting the tears flow can be the perfect remedies. In fact, I’ve done more than half of those in the last 24 hrs, because this week I’ve hit the peak of this hatred and depression. I’ve told most people who ask how I’m doing that I’m just tired, but some of those closest to me have become the targets of my angst, and for that I’m terribly sorry. I’m sorry for not loving you well, I’m sorry for not being myself.

As I try to gather my sprawled out thoughts, I guess I should end with this: The Bible says in Proverbs, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your understanding.” I have had that verse memorised since I was eight years old and it’s taken me ten years to fully understand what It truly means; its taken ten years to see what trusting in someone blindly means, and the pain and trials that comes along with that trust.

But despite my fear, God is telling me to trust Him in this difficult, sad, hate inducing time. Despite it all, I have to love Him even through my own ignorance. After all, what is faith if it doesn’t endure when we are tested the most? I may never understand why God is putting me through so many trials. And while God may not give me any answers, He has given me the capacity for love. My job is to love Him without questioning His plan.

Am I okay now?— No. Will I be okay eventually?— Yes. But today, tomorrow and probably the next day—because I don’t see an answer presenting itself soon—I ask for your thoughts and prayers.

Right now, as I sit here typing with those acidic tears streaming down my face, I pray to you, dear Lord. I pray to You to help strengthen my love for You. And I pray that You will help me fend off hatred so that I may truly trust in You with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding. Because in the end, Your light defeats any darkness, so with that thought in mind, I’ll take heart. My God has overcome the world and every trouble in it, sadness and hatred not excluded.

Hope was never lost, Uptown Maven