While researching for my historical romance The Christmas Cherub, I discovered doctors in World War II used “battle fatigue” for what is now called post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The latter may be the proper medical term, but I relate to the older term, especially fatigue.
Here’s the thing: I almost gave up. Not because I didn’t know what I wanted to say, but because I got stuck between wanting to be teachable and knowing I had a mission that didn’t fit the template. It felt like sinking into a mud bath—uncomfortable, a little dirty, and I wasn’t sure if I was being cleansed or suffocated. But I had to sit there. I had to type out the conversations in my head. I had to let the discomfort do its work.
It’s the most wonderful time of the year—or so we’re told... For some, the holidays bring not joy but despair, loneliness, and depression. If you’ve ever felt a pang of sadness during the holidays, you’re not alone. For many, this season magnifies feelings of loss, isolation, or unmet expectations. I’m often asked: How can I walk alongside someone who is depressed—especially during the holidays?
We’re all living like emotional sponges right now, soaking up everyone’s opinion, everyone’s drama, everyone’s hot take on literally everything. And as someone who needs medication just to slow my brain down enough to think instead of react, let me tell you: this is not sustainable. Are you feeling it, too? We’re in the middle of a full-blown emotional real estate crisis and it’s frankly exhausting to say the least.
Doctors feared she might not live. Abigail survived and lived to 73, dying of typhoid fever. Today, we recognize that long-term stress suppresses the immune system through high adrenaline and cortisol levels.
Have you ever been tired—deep in your soul? The kind of tired that sleep doesn’t fix, where the weight of everything feels too heavy to carry? The world keeps demanding more, no matter how much you give, it never seems enough.
while the holidays are supposedly all about coming together, there’s a reason I’d rather hibernate in my stretch pants, messy bun, maybe a day or two past my last shower, and watch “It’s a Wonderful Life” with an endless supply of eggnog (more precisely, the creamy non-alcoholic kind). All that festive chaos? Not exactly my idea of a good time. As a bipolar mom with manic tendencies and anxiety served with a side of ADHD, holiday gatherings give me a little extra “something” to manage.
As we enter a new year, I must be honest: to me, it just feels heavy. There’s a sinking feeling that’s been lingering in me these past few months, an urge to put the shutters up on life and keep out whatever the future may bring. The uncertainty can feel overwhelming, and it’s tempting to shrink back, to withdraw into a place where things feel safer and more manageable. But even in these moments, I’m beginning to recognize something powerful: God has me here, even now, amid all this uncertainty.
by Jennifer Taylor Originally Published —August 2017 issue “When I was at my lowest of lows depression, there was a point where I believe the enemy was trying to take…
Lori Vober In January 2003, my husband, Dainis, and I were just shy of our fifth wedding anniversary. We had been attempting to start our family biologically for over a…