Don't cry

Don't. You. Dare. Cry. 

Desires of My Heart

I thought I had to give up all my dreams to follow your plan God. But I was wrong, you want me to have dreams. That’s what that message was all about. “I have a dream” But that’s my problem right now. I gave up all my dreams and sit here empty handed. So God, here’s my dream. A lifelong dream, something I will hold onto for years to come. Not only do I dream of following after you and helping people into your kingdom. That’s obviously the top dream of mine. But Lord, you want me to have my own dream. My own personal dream. So Lord, here it is. I dream of writing books. Yes Lord that’s it. I dream of writing books and  reaching people….

Scattered Thoughts

Sista and I sat outside tonight talking, just talking. It was nice. Who cares if it's you know 2am, it was still nice. We talked about, well everything. Things about "Dad", to L and J to school to emotions to depression to cutting to suicidal behaviors to deployment to whatever else came to our minds. I don't have any real sisters to talk to about those things, so I'm SO glad that J married someone that I could actually talk to. These past few days with them here has been wonderful. I've missed them like crazy, yet at the same time I'm kind of glad that they're gone/leaving. It's nice to be able to explore the world on my own. I may be completely broke and a poor, jobless college student. But hey, at least I'm giving life a go, right?

There was a time when even that wasn't in my plans....

Thankfully, things have changed and I'm doing much better. But honestly, at times I wonder. I wonder what would have happened to those around me had I gone through with it. How would this world have changed? Honestly, I know things are better off with me still in it. I know that "someone" up there has plans for what I used to think was a pitiful life. So I know that I can't just get up and end it anytime I want. That's just not in the cards for me. But I still wonder. I still wonder if they'd care, if they'd remember me years from now. It's just like the 2 kids in school who died 1.5 years ago. People still remember them, but will they 10 years from now? 20? 30? 40 years from now, will their names even survive the old age? That's just something I don't know about. Somehow, surely someone will find a way to keep their memory alive for many many years to come. But I personally, don't know if I'll be able to remember. And if I can't even remember a girl and a boy who died in my school...why would anyone remember me? What kind of impact have I had on this world?

That's the thing that really gets me. I don't want to be known as "the girl who sat on my bus" or "she was my roommate once" "oh her?" "I think I met her, once. She was the quiet one right?"

That's not how I want people to talk about me. That's now how I want to be remembered. I want to be known for something more. Something greater. I have a higher calling, and I know that one day I will completely answer that calling. As for now, I'm doing my part and going to school and doing my best to believe that God will provide for me. He gave me a 3rd roommate, surely he can do the rest. I just have to believe and receive. Especially now that all of my roommates have a job. Now it's just down to me. I'm praying and praying, except that's just the thing. I haven't actually spent a single minute praying about it. I've cried about it, begged God to just explain it. I've asked him for it. But it wasn't praying. It wasn't something...something he would have wanted. And that my friend, is where I screwed up. My money is running out and I have no back ups. Neither J nor my Mom have any money to give me. I've had problem after problem and now...now I don't know what to do.

That's a lie, I know exactly what needs to be done. But the real question is...do I have the guts, the motivation, the determination, the faith.....to get it done?

Mother

You have no idea how long I've plotted my escape. How I beg God to make time fly faster, till the day I can finally flee this life. I'm sorry, I'm just not the daughter you always thought I'd be. All I am is me. That's all I'll ever be. I can't be the picture perfect, darling little princess you imagined. I'm not her. I never was. Why can't you just accept me the way I am? Please, I'm begging you. If only you could see past this mask, this costume...that's hiding the real me. I'm here! I SWEAR! I'm still HERE!

The Impossible

What's impossible...Hiding from God.

Yet even with the knowledge that it IS impossible...why do some, still attempt to hide from him? Why do some still hope that eventually, after many years, after running around in countless circles, that they may finally escape from him? That they may be free from his prying eyes, free to do what they wish. To screw up their life, knowing that they could have done so much better? Why?

Why do they run away, knowing that he will find them again? Knowing that he knows every thing about them...what they will do with their life.

Why, I can't tell you. But I can tell you about my own journey. My journey to accomplish...the impossible. With full knowledge that I will fail. Yet I can't seem to cancel this journey, I have to go through with it. I just have to.

A few weeks ago I had an interesting conversation with a close friend (and cousin) of mine. It was during another one of my "la la" land adventures. He asked why I had not been praying. And I told him. Flat out told him. He didn't know what to say. I told him how I'd heard it all. All the sermons, songs, stories...all of it. I'd heard them over and over again. But that was all it was now...simply songs, sermons, stories...nothing more. This "religion" is more a part of my so called "life" rather than a conscious decision. Its like it was just shoved into my life as a way of life...like I never made the choice...but I didn't want that. I wasn't trying to run from God. But at the same time I was. I was trying to remove God from my life, even thoguh I didn't want to. I want God, but at the same time...part of me doesn't. Its like part of me is dying to be free from my past life...and since I grew up as a Christian...that part of me believes that in order to be free I have to remove everything from my past...including my believes. I know this is wrong, I know this isn't the truth...but the other 1/2 of me isn't listening. I can't control it, this...dark....evil side of me. I can't contain it. Every now and then it pops up, takes a glimpse around the free world and realizes that it LOVES this freedom. And then, I'm stuck, struggling to decide which is right, and which is wrong. Running from something that is more powerful than I could ever be or trying to forget it all and move on.

And then a few days ago some people were talking about how we have to rely on God and I was sitting there thinking "Will you just shut up about God already!? I don't want to hear it..." Its the same way with Prayer. I don't want to. Its not that I can't, or that he's not listening. I don't want to . And that thought scares me. It honestly scares me. But what can I do? If everything related to God, I'm shoving away faster than I can embrace it?

Not a good year

My mind is failing me once more. I had managed to convince myself that I had succeed, so many months ago. But now I know what I was wrong. I have not forgotten nor will I ever forget that night. I've tried countless times to forget that mind shattering event between my mother and I. Yet I cannot and will never be able to. It has been ingrained in my mind, images, feelings, memories that I would rather not remember. Will always be there. Always.

It wasn't too long ago, that this event happened to occur. But it was long enough ago that I had almost succeeded in forgetting it. Until recently.

My emotional state hadn't yet been secured, and I was wobbling all over the place mentally and emotionally. Josh had only been gone for a week, maybe less than that. It was August 26, 2009 and that was my first major fight with my mom...in my entire life. It wasn't so much of a fight as a long everlasting lecture about how horrible of a child I was. How rebellious and hateful I was...blah blah blah. I was forced to sit there, in the bathroom in the dark, tears streaming down my face as my mother yelled at me and refused to let me leave the room until she was satisfied. At the same time, my younger brother was in the living room blasting the music as loud as he could so that he could drown out the noise. He and I have had to sit through several fights, mainly between my Mom and Josh...and we always hated it. (He later told me that he felt terrible, and that he hated every minute of it, and felt bad for me) I probably sat in the bathroom for an hour. Maybe a little longer. all the while crying my eyes out. I just wanted to go to my room. I just wanted to curl up on my bed and cry. but I wasn't allowed to. Actually, I wanted a hug. A hug from my brother...from Josh. But he wasn't home. He wasn't there both physically and spiritually...and he will never be again either.

Eventually I was released, and free to go to my room. I cried myself to sleep that night. I cried for 2+ hours...straight.

2009 has not been a good year. The year was supposed to bring the changes...the good changes. It haso nly brought despair. I never felt this alone until this year. I've never cried so much...until this year. I've never done this much thinking until this year and I've never wanted to run away this strongly...until now.

Back to Reality...

Back to reality...sorta.

My life feels normal again. Back to the way it used to, but I know that in a few short weeks it will go back to being screwed up once more. You see, I saw my brother today. Josh. He's graduating from boot camp tomorrow, and we got to hang out with him today. While he was here things felt like they used to. But I know that come December 26th, I'll be back to my saddened possibly depressed self. With him gone, I'm not the same person that I really am. He's my brother, my beloved older brother. One who I have looked up to for my entire life. He's always been there for me, but when he's gone...its like part of me is missing. My life isn't in order, I'm not the same. He was the last thing that kept me from blowing up...from becoming the cruel, cold, harsh, insane, jerk, heartless mongrel that I really am. The side of me that's hidden 24/7, buried behind thick steel doors with deadbolts every where. The side of me that hasn't seen the light of day for years. YEARS!

But when he's gone...its like the doors become unlocked, and that evil side of me just walks right out. It explores its new freedom, tests the limits and then realizes that it enjoys this new freedom. It locks up the old self, and lives on...lying to everyone else. Shoving each and everyone away that so much as DARES to even begin to approach me.

In need of a bigger brain...

I am in need of a bigger brain because mine is overflowing. Overflowing with thoughts and ideas that I can't seem to organize into separate categories...because my brain is already full. I can't think straight, I can't even begin to focus on anything...and each weekend, anything I learned in school is thrown in the trash in my unconscious attempt to organize my thoughts.

I'm woken up at 5:30am each and EVERY day. As I sit there, my mind spinning as it tries to think clearly. I worry. I dream. I worry again. I dream some more. I plan. I plot. I try to focus. I learn. I forget. I worry once more. I'm back where I started.

My life is far from normal. Whatever normal is. I don't even seem to live in reality anymore. Its like my brain has given up on "reality" and has moved off to la la land...and just so happened to "forget" to leave a "reach-me-address". Nothing is real to me anymore. Everything is a lie, a fake...its not real. I live in this world, that doesn't even exist. My life...isn't realistic. My dreams...aren't realistic. My expectations...aren't realistic. Nothing about me is realistic...is real. Its like I'm not even here half the time. My mind's lost in some foreign land, and I can't seem to find my way back. Part of me is fighting to get back...while the half...is beginning to like this different "world" where I can be whoever I want. Where I never have to worry, where things work the way they are supposed to. Where father's don't run off with other women. Where parents, siblings, friends, spouses...don't die. Where war doesn't exist. Where money is never a problem. Where everyone is treated equal. Where obesity isn't a problem. Where disease is instinct. Where teenagers aren't depressed for reasons that don't even make sense. Where people aren't haunted by their past. Where I can actually understand the thoughts that somehow appear in my head. That somehow seem to make sense, but I don't know how. Where things are the way I've always imagined.

But this world doesn't really exist. Its not real, never has been...and sadly will never be. People will die. Fathers will run off with other women. Disease is still running about our world--killing all in its path. War is still going strong, and there doesn't seem to be any end. Depression attacks the innocent--never leaving any escape. Obesity, poverty, and unexplainable things...still happen.

And I'm still sitting here. In dire need of a bigger brain. One that could comprehend these thoughts. One that could make sense of my confused emotions. One that doesn't become depressed for no apparent reason. Yet I don't have any of it. I'm still here, still unable to understand. And still---depressed.