Ineffable! (#2)

The scars kind of took me off track a little in the last post. So I might as well finish the thought.

After escaping that bout with depression and another "low" point, I was trying to picture myself in the future. What type of job? Where would I be? So I sat on my bed staring at the wall to eliminate distractions and closed my eyes. The room was silent, I was alone. A perfect place to meet with God. I thought about it, asked God to show me, to enlighten me and he did. I always did have problems envisioning myself in a cubicle, office, classroom, store, at home. I just couldn't get the image I was longing for. So when God did give me a vision, it didn't take me by surprise that I wasn't in any of those places. No, you didn't read that wrong. It's true. I wasn't in any office, classroom, cubicle, store, etc. No. I was in some rural village (Africa maybe?), a small shack behind me (or a hut), the ground was dusty and pure dirt not a single blade of grass lay beneath my feet. Children clustered about me, anxiously awaiting their turns for I wasn't simply standing there. I was spinning in circles, twirling young children around as we both smiled and laughed. My hair was flying around loosely behind me and I seemed not to care. I wore a long skirt which should have bothered me in the hot sun, but it didn't. I didn't care. I was HAPPY. Key word there, HAPPY!

After that it didn't take me long to figure out my calling in life. A mere second to be exact.

Missions.

I had always loved the idea of being a missionary. The stories thrilled me, the adventure excited me. It seemed like the ultimate, extreme, adventure for Christ. Even as a young girl the idea was always exciting. But the one time I asked my Mom what she would think if I became one, her grin disappeared and she looked at me solemnly. "That's a hard life. It's not easy. You'd be far, FAR, from home." I told her I knew it'd be hard but she merely repeated her words. "It's not easy. You'd be far, far from home." So I ditched the idea as my own were much more appealing. My teenage thoughts of running off to Alaska sounded much better than traveling thousands of miles, living far from family, living on little to nothing, facing danger every day. Nah, Alaska was much better. Heck even Colorado or Australia would be better. Or so I though.

Even though I had just had an encounter with God about my calling, I still wasn't sure. I still had too much to deal with in my own life. Things I wasn't ready to deal with and didn't' ever want to deal with. I often wrote that my pain, my anger, my hatred, defined me as a person. That without it I wouldn't be me anymore. I was wrong. It was because I had those that I wasn't who God had made me to be. They were preventing me from being me. They had polluted the real me and changed me into something totally different. It took me a long time to realize it. But wait, that's not for now. That comes a little later. I've got to continue where I left off.

That encounter got me thinking, got change starting. When my Mom talked about all the new exciting things she was learning, I listened. I listened and absorbed it all. I didn't like it. I hated it. But I listened anyway. I still resented her, still disliked her, still felt anger towards her and several others. But slowly, ever so slowly, God was breaking down the walls around my heart. Things were in motion that I could never undo. I just didn't realize it at the time.

Till next time

I didn't know what stress felt like. Now I do.

I didn't know what it felt like to not know what you're doing with your life, where you're going. Now I do.

I didn't know what depression was. Now I do.

I didn't know what it felt like to be ignored. Now I do.

I didn't know what it felt like to be abandoned. Now I do.

I didn't know what it felt like to cry yourself to sleep each night. Now I do.

I didn't know how pain affected my life. Now I do.

I didn't know how easy it was to scar yourself. Now I do.

I always knew people loved me. Now I don't.

I always had someone to go to. Now I don't.

I always thought I had plenty of time to decide. Now I don't.

I always thought I knew what I wanted. Now I don't.

I always thought everything would just fall into place. But it's not.

I always thought I'd get along just fine. But I'm not.

I never thought I'd fall that low. But I have.

I never thought I'd get that close to it. But now I am.

I never thought I'd give up on others. But I have.

I never thought I'd ignore the worried looks, talks, emails, chats. But I have.

I never thought I'd be the one to cause others pain, fear, and worry. But I have.

I never thought I'd look down and see scars. But I do.

I never thought that those very same scars would be my own doing. But they are.

I never thought I'd doubt everything about life. But I do.

I never thought I'd have be the one to argue with my mother. But I do.

I never thought I'd have arguments over text, chat with "her". But I do.

I never thought I'd contemplate running away. But I have.

I never thought I'd forgive my father. And I haven't.

I never thought I'd forgive my grandparents. And I haven't.

I never thought I'd forgive J. And I haven't.

I never thought I'd forgive myself. And I haven't.



I never thought I'd write this, nor post it. But I just did.

Knowing

I told her. She knows now. Because I told her. I had to tell her. She forced it from me. I wish I didn't tell her. Yet I'm glad I told her. She needed to know. But she doesn't know what to think about what I told her.

She knows now, that my relationships are crap. She knows now how I feel about the "preaching" she shoves down my throat. She knows now how much I despise my conversations with her. She knows.

I told her that every time the storm begins to calm, she brings another one. Arguments with her are the killing thing. They are the weather that creates the storm until I, unable to handle it, simply blow up beneath the pressure. I can't do it. This fighting, this chaos. This false reality I call my life. I just cant do it. Every time I begin to find my way again, She comes back into my life. Forcing me, pushing me, to run away. Its not my fault, it never was, that we just don't get along. How she can deny, any responsibility I know not. We were never meant to get along, I swear I was switched at birth. She doesn't like me, I know that now. I don't like her, she knows that now. How much longer will I have to stay here? How much longer until i'm free? Seriously, how much longer? Living with her is only hindering me. That's all it's ever done. Someone once told me that when a parent is uncertain, the child becomes uncertain. Well THANKS! She got her wish, I no longer know whats right and wrong. I no longer know what I value. What I cherish.

Knowing, if only I knew the truth. If only I knew who I was. Then perhaps, perhaps then I'd know what to do.




And she wonders why I scarred myself?

Running

All I do these days is run. Run away from the past. From my problems. From friends and family. Everything I do, encourages or aids my fleeing behaviors. 

And now, just as I have done once a month since January 2008. I'm considering running away again. this time for good. I could do it. All I need to do is go to college, and then just never come back. It wouldn't be too difficult really. Just stop talking to people, "lose" addresses, happen to be busy when they come, flights are too expensive...etc. It really wouldn't be all that hard.

Actually thats a lie. It would be hard, really hard to leave friends and family. But really the only one I want to run away from is...

....my mom. 

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.