My pants aren't fitting well at all. I've gained 8 pounds. It's stress. Not my stress, my kid's stress (unfortunately, it still ends up on my hips!). CJ's therapist has been having him talk about the really bad experiences he's had. CJ hates this. He dreads it. He's scared of it. Even thinking about thinking about the bad things makes him look ill. It hurts so much. It's so hard to be soothing, comforting, and confident, when he tells me these awful things and I just want to curl up in a ball and cry. I love my son so much. It hurts so badly to know the pain he's endured. I would do anything to go back and experience the terror and pain for him. But I can't. And sweets abound this time of year, so I end up trying to eat away the pain for both of us.
He is so courageous. I encourage him to talk about the painful things and I explain that it will help him heal. I tell him I'm right here for him when the memories are scary. He believes me. That's huge. And he shares the scary stories, even though it seems almost unbearable for him sometimes to have to recall them. He is so brave.
Today was a tough day for him, and he handled it so well. It was tough for me too, and though I handled it well on the outside, it was a lot harder inside. So I ate a couple Christmas cookies --not great for my IBS or my waistline(when your metabolism is as slow as mine is, even a couple cookies make a bad impact!). Then we went for a walk, which was much better for all of us.
Words cannot express how grateful I am to God that CJ is safe now. That he has the opportunity to heal. My heart breaks for other children who are out there right now, in horrifying situations and in unimaginable pain. Join me in praying for a place for these children heal, and please consider the possibility that you may be that place.