Here I am.

I am watching old episodes of NCIS and avoiding life.  I do this at home when my husband is home.  Or expected.  It's like my mind and body just can't organize and do the things that I want to do.  Troublesome.  I don't really understand it.  He's not home yet.  But I've been expecting him.
When I was at the kids' meet, he texted that he'd be at work for 10 more minutes....that was over two hours ago.
Strange.
I don't know what to do about this trapped feeling.  Feeling like I am not going to be able to be who I want to be and do what I want to do no matter what happens from here on out.  It was a really painful realization.  So, I think that maybe I could go to someone to talk about it.  But, bottom line is that nobody really knows what the future holds.  I would only be telling them to have someone hear me.  Answers come with time and with prayer.  With waiting and with hoping.  With seeking and with thinking.
A rational part of me knows that it is still possible to write if I'm separated.....it's just that I realize how much more difficult it makes it.  As if it wouldn't be difficult enough.  I know that I can't write "for real" with him around...I have trouble making coffee, let alone making deadlines and facing rejections.  It would be totally unbearable to have him with me through that.  Not the kind of person I want around for the try/fail time.  He's not supportive.
Here I am.  Wondering what the purpose of my hopes and dreams is.  I don't know.  But I know that there must be one.  So, though I am vastly discouraged, I will begin to change my perspective since I cannot change the circumstances.
I can think of writing still.  I can still write.  I might not be successful as the world calls it but it won't be about making a fortune or being famous.  It's about connecting.  About helping others.  About seeking healing.  About offering healing.  About praise for the One who brings me through.
How sad I am to think of not ever doing it.  My friends laugh because I've said I want to write a book for so long....they don't know how I just can't right now because of circumstances.  So, I feel foolish talking to them about it anymore.
He has isolated me in so many little ways like that.  It's like I've been bound up.  I want to be free.  I want to breathe.  Dance.  Sing.  I want to WRITE not in secret.  But....not yet.  Perhaps one day I will have my chance.
grace to you.