When will it end?

This last month has been a doozey, a horrible, no good, very bad day. I mean, month. Horrible.

I have questions about my future which terrify me. My health has GONE OUT THE WINDOW. I had a car accident. I drowned my phone.

My computer needed serious work, 72 hours before a major project was due (as in, part 1 of 2 in my capstone project). I have money issues. I am worn out.

Wednesday, my mother and I drove to North Carolina to be there for my grandfather who had taken a turn for the worse. We arrived, shocked at how weak he had become, but amazed at how not about to die he seemed.

For the next two days, we stayed by his side, and begged the rest of our family to hurry. They came, every single one of them (mad chaos ensued). Some of them had to go home, and the next day Grandpa got worse and worse.

Finally, surrounded by family Frank C. Skiles, Jr. passed away on Monday, March 12th.

In the days leading up to his death, I prayed like I’ve never prayed before: Not for healing, not for strength. Just for relief. Just for an end. For the fight to be over, pain to leave and the journey to be complete.

Now that he’s in heaven, I am not sad for him. I don’t miss him, I will, but right now – I’m just so relieved to know he’s joyfully walking, and talking and laughing with my grandmother again.

Instead, I am sad in the most selfish, meanest way for myself. Angry that I am still here, and overwhelmed and tired. Worn out by this month, and running low on hope for smoother future.

They say trials bring out your strength. Folks, friends or strangers – there has not been any beauty portrayed. This month has been ugly. I have been ugly and grumpy with myself, and thereby everyone around my. I don’t know where to start, how to make a better future. I am weak and weary, but unfortunately still just angry enough not to give in and…well, be nice. To believe that the God I profess to follow will care fore me if I just let Him.

This is it – hanging on and punching everything in sight.