Seventeen

Less than 20 hours ago my life changed. 17 hours ago it got worse. SO much worse. I don't claim to be anything special, but I can NOT do this. I am cracking. Just when I think I've glued enough of me back together so I can saunter up my britches and face this world head on - the ground caves beneath my feet and I have nothing more than faith alone. I promise that I don't need much in this world. I don't need fancy clothes or cell phones. I don't need a suped up car or a nice fancy house. I am plagued with guilt in making any decision, no matter how small. I sincerely work hard, enjoy what I do, rejoice in the little things, and love ferociously. I try so hard with a good heart and good intentions and I thought that has got to count for something. Yet, here I am. How did I get here? I swore I'd never be that girl. The one who would allow that to happen. I have people that I am responsible to, how did I let it get this far? How am I not able to do anything about it? How have I convinced myself to stay? I can not face another person (whom I know) to tell them these things. They will judge. I am doing enough judging of myself, I don't need someone else disappointed too. They will think that I possess the inner strength to walk away, that I deserve better, but I can't. They will get angry or be let down and make it their business to chide my efforts. So every night I try to come up with a new plan. I try to realign myself to reality. I try and try and try, and yet... all I feel is that I am dying inside, little by little - and it's gaining speed. It's so completely out of my control. 17 hours ago I took a stand, and I failed. I am now on public display for humiliation. Congratulations! This is where my hard work has landed me.

Knitting

I like to believe that my soul is forever being fine tuned. It is what it is, but it wants to learn and grow and... evolve. If every hurdle that I come across I can view as piece that will somehow, some way fit into the big picture later on, then I don't feel so lost. I still feel lost, incredibly alone... just not AS lost. Some day it would be so great to be able wear the same me on the outside, that is on the inside.

What I really think is that I made such bad choices in my early years that I am being punished for them now. So part of me feels that this will continue; I deserve the awful things that keep coming my way. Maybe if I am able to live through this and not die in the meantime, that I can make amends and someday I'll break even.

I had a dream the other night, not a nightmare thank God, haven't had a bad one in a while. Right, so back to the dream... there I am, all exposed, nothing left to hide, nothing to be proud of, nothing nothing nothing, just me... and my broken heart, my crying spirit, my hurting soul all loosely braided together, falling apart, barely staying together. "Now this will hurt a little..." I hear said to me. Here comes the giant needle and I relive painful memories, and bit by bit, that giant needle stitches together part of my heart and soul, then soul and spirit that I never would have thought to put together, but they fit perfectly. I am being knit back together.

Weather

I can hate many things, though I try not to. At heart, really, I'm a lover not a hater. I like the weather. Any kind of weather: stormy weather with rain and thunder and lightning, windy weather with leaves spinning and swirling lost in the movement, warm weather that holds you close and breathes down your neck and whispers you secrets.

Wouldn't it be great if instead of secrets, that it could whisper the answers. I think it's just as romantic and am holding on to hope that some day, some how, I can find the answers too.

Theraputic ramblings

I blog because it's safe. I blog because it's a place where I can be completely honest, to others and to myself, but don't have to show my face. Writing, music, poetry allow me to process the feelings, and to put it down on paper validates it in a way. It makes it feel tangible, that it is something real: I am NOT invisible. I could never have these conversations with people in my every day life. Well, maybe I could, but how do I know it's safe? I fear rejection, humiliation, loss. I like to believe that I was made this way for a reason. Wishful thinking, I'm sure. Isn't there something that my quiet demeanor can offer to this world in contrast to those whose personalities are more forthright? Can't both be beneficial? Ying and yang?

I am always at a constant battle within myself. Do I feel I need to be more outspoken because I think I need to be that way? Or because I feel intimidated by those who are that way, and so I'd better be that way too.

Ha. Thinking back to my "quiet demeanor." This is where my general pace tends to fall. But here in this blog, in this forum I am a hundred times more advantageous that I could ever be in real life or in a "normal" blog where people knew me.

There are some things that I've known since I was a little girl. I've known exactly what I wanted to be when I grew up. Never a doubt. Here lies the heartache: How can I know something so purely from the inside if my soul, and know that this very thing, I can try and try and try and I will continue to fail, disappoint, and not live up to what everyone else thought I was capable of. At what point does this dream need to come to an end? At what point do I surrender and quit trying to make people (and me) believe something that is hurting more people in the process. That's never what I wanted. Of course not.

The very things that ground me today are the very things that keeping me from spreading my wings. The people who I've come to respect and love and cherish, I want to keep SO close so I don't have to be without them, but I don't dare let the mask I wear down, for fear that who they thought I was, I've never been. Very selfish I know. I hang on their every word, but literally get panicked when I'm expected to give my own thoughts on something...out loud. No no no. My little inside world, is so sacred, so small, so vulnerable, it cannot be trusted with anyone. Not even me.

My ship

I can fail miserably at things and in my head be able to talk myself through them. Great. I can not STAND myself when I disappoint someone, especially someone who is close to my heart. I wouldn't do anything on purpose, it's those other things that I apparently say and do subconsciously that eeek their way out that kill me. Let me take the one person who believes (believed) in me, let them hear one conversation (not even about them) that I didn't know was being listened to by the outside world. It wasn't mean or hateful about anyone in particular, just a show of my own weakness and the darkness that has invaded my life... now on display... for another to hear. Please cut my tongue out, so the pain and hurt I feel can NOT be translated to words spoken from my mouth. I do not know how to describe how I feel..... sunken. I can't get the tense right. Sank? I've been sunk, I feel sunken...WTF? Sinking??? I just googled that to see what I could find... gave me chills. A sinking ship-- there I am.

Thinking again

I wonder if my doctors and I ever find out the cause or cure for my ailments, if I'll feel any better? Or will I just have nothing to hide behind any more? No more excuses, nothing more to duck behind and shield me from the truth. But then we are all going to die one day anyhow, right? Each day is one day closer, so why am I so bogged down with these nuances? Let me just let the guard down, let the little things roll on by, let me enjoy this life. Now if I could just get out of my own damn way, I'd be onto something here.

Let it go

Aw piss. It started out such a normal ordinary day. I should have known it was too good to be true, but hoped instead that it was a touch of good luck. Negative. Negatory dear one. Wrong again.

If I'm already on edge with a certain someone, and then that someone says "You know, I don't appreciate..." Great. Thanks for working with your I-statements. Now that you've opened THAT door, let me tear into you and detail your exact attributes that I don't appreciate, the ones I don't care for, the things you do that make me RAGE inside. All the things that collectively affirm that I am insane for staying to look at your face.

I honestly don't really care what you do and what you don't do. But, you've got to be kidding me if you can't do one thing without fucking it up. I don't care if you choose to go left or right. But if you choose to go right, go RIGHT and quit your bitchin.

If I know I'm good at one thing, it's being passive aggressive. I'm not all that proud of it, but I do it really well. So there. But then... this quiet girl, who normally is a bit shy, rather introverted, has zero-to-none speaking qualities or presence, usually thinks long and hard before she talks, makes every word that comes out have purpose...is gonna take you out back and rail on you cause you damn well deserve it and it's been long time coming.

I don't really think that I'm going to be the one to put you in your place. It's not my job. But I'll take a swing. Somewhere along the road of life you'll look back and realize you should have taken this as your wake up call. If you don't like what you do-- change it. If you don't like who you are-- change it. If you keep doing the same damn thing day in and day out, and you don't get where you want to go-- take another route. I certainly don't claim to know it all, but can't you see you're dragging everyone down around you?

Let go.

More Questions

I went to church last week.

...

Have you ever felt safe from everything in the world

while sitting in church and the rain is pouring down outside?

The sound of the rain on the roof during the silence of church

has to be the most beautiful sound I've ever heard.

So beautiful that the tears came and they flowed freely

and fell from my face to the pew and onto the floor.

Do you think they could hear my quiet sobs

through the sounds of the rain?

Do you think He could hear me...

and see my tears mixing with the wet from the rain in the floor?