Murder My Misery: Self-discovery through Christ.

Finding Christ In Chaos

Stumble with me through ADHD, Bipolar II, anxiety, depression, the chaos of motherhood, a house I can’t seem to keep together, and a marriage that feels the weight of it all. This isn’t a neat testimony or a pretty Christian story—it’s a messy, unfiltered journal of breakdowns, medication changes, forgotten tasks, panic, numb days, and nights I’m too exhausted to pray… yet somehow still being held, again and again, by the stubborn, quiet hope of Jesus.

Why I Share My Struggle

Murder My Misery exists because I need a real, honest, and Christ-centered way to let my emotions out. By journaling what I feel, I’m learning to actually name my struggles, face them, and, by God’s grace, overcome them. This space is also a creative outlet for my ADHD—a place to pour out my chaos in detail, trace how I fought through it, and look back to see my growth in Christ as He slowly but surely murders my misery and makes me more like Him.

A worn leather-bound Bible lies open on a rough, dark wooden table, its thin pages slightly curled and underlined in deep blue ink, with a single black feather resting between the chapters of Psalms. Around it, scattered handwritten journal pages show raw, shaky script and tear-stained edges. A single metal cross necklace, tarnished and scratched, coils beside the book. Cold, diffused window light falls from the left, leaving half the scene in shadow and half in soft illumination, emphasizing texture and imperfection. Photographic realism at eye-level, with a shallow depth of field that blurs the distant background into darkness, creating a somber yet hopeful atmosphere of wrestling faith and mental anguish.
A small, dimly lit bedroom corner featuring an unmade charcoal gray bed, the blanket twisted like a stormy sea, and a bedside table holding a closed, matte-black Bible with a silver cross embossed on the cover. Next to it sits a flickering, half-burned candle dripping wax down a glass jar, and an untouched cup of cold coffee leaving a faint ring. The only light source is the candle and a sliver of cool moonlight leaking through partially closed blinds, casting striped shadows across the wall. Shot from a slightly elevated angle in photographic realism, the composition uses strong contrasts between warm candle glow and cold blue tones to capture loneliness, exhaustion, and the quiet reach toward Christ in the middle of insomnia and anxiety.
A rain-streaked window at night, city lights outside turned into soft, colorful bokeh, while inside a single black leather journal lies closed on a dark mahogany desk. A heavy metal cross, rugged and industrial, rests on top of the journal, its surface catching the faint glow of a nearby desk lamp. Beside it, a pen with smudged black ink sits abandoned on a crumpled page bearing the faint imprint of desperate words. The warm, low lamp light carves out a small island of golden clarity against the surrounding shadows. Photographic realism from an eye-level perspective, with the cross and journal in sharp focus and the background falling away into blur, creating a mood of isolation, contemplation, and fragile hope in the storm.

Prayer Requests

Share your heart; I’ll lift your struggles, fears, and questions to Jesus with gentle care and confidential prayer.

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Thank you for your response. ✨