Grappling with Uncertainty

My depression has been bad recently. It has nearly turned me into a person I don't like. I wrote a letter to my friends on Facebook recently, and I made this statement: "I often feel crippled by the uncertainty that comes with meaningful action." It's true.

I recently applied to a community college so I can start taking the prerequisite classes I need for my teaching degree, and the details are killing me. What will I do with William? What if we don't have enough money? What if I end up with no time to write or study? Meanwhile, I'm grappling with feelings of inadequacy when it comes to raising my son, worrying about money, and trying to deal with the constant craziness that is a normal part of my husband's job. It seems so much easier to just spend my days losing myself in pointless political debates and conversations, or to zone out in front of the TV. Meanwhile, my emotional constipation has grown to the point where I'm nearly sobbing at every sad commercial that comes on. I finally realized that all the debating was probably contributing to my anxious state, so, about two days ago, I cut it out of my daily life. I hope the change helps.

This past Sunday, I visited a church for the first time in months. My mom has been talking to me about getting back into church, and I know she's right. Faith has always been a big part of my life. The problem has been finding a church that's right for both me and my family. The way I think about God and church is so different now from what my parents believe. I don't think I would be comfortable going to the types of churches I attended as a child. The church I went to on Sunday had some of the most welcoming people I had ever met, and I want to go back. The service itself is a bit too structured for my taste, but I love the friendly atmosphere. That's most important to me. My mom wasn't thrilled to hear about their particular doctrine, but I loved that, too. I'm hoping I've finally found a place to call home.