Thursday, February 2, 2012

i hope you don't smile when i'm sad.

I have no good way to introduce this idea that's just come swimming into my head, so I'm just going to jump into it and hope that it makes sense. And even if it doesn't... love me anyway. I need it. :/

I think there are too many versions of myself. I think I have so many different people in my head who claim to be me, that when I really focus on one, I lose track of another. And how can I have all these different parts of myself without some being noticeable?

So obviously, it's been a really crappy couple days. And I'm trying my hardest to pull myself out of this, because people always say half the battle is in your head... but you know what? It's really hard. It's so hard to pull myself out of this. I want to apologize for being nasty, but I honestly think it was warranted after so long of me just sitting here, taking this shitty "friendship." The day is so grey and lonely. I feel like I'm in Annie. But you know what? What if the sun doesn't come out tomorrow? What if I'm like this forever? Always wondering what will actually happen, only halfway giving it my all because I'm too afraid it isn't what I thought it would be all this time.

And I think a big part of it has to do with the fact that I threw my God-self away. My relationship with God is nowhere to be found, and it breaks my heart. I know I shouldn't, but I get so afraid He loves me less. And I know that's not true, I know that will never be true. But when your heart hurts the way my heart hurts and you feel as though you're in a downward spiral with no end in sight, it really feels like you're alone. When you're arguing with everybody and can't sleep because you can't imagine facing another day in this "life," sometimes all you have to do is just cry. When I was downstairs just a few minutes ago, I ran into a friend who told me he's going to be speaking in chapel about fear. And about how Paul, even when he was literally chained to the wall in prison, didn't lose his faith. And he prayed. But he didn't pray that he could be free, that he could get out. Instead he prayed that he could fearlessly preach Jesus' name. What am I praying for?

Nothing seems to be going according to plan, and when I used to think about my life, I had all the power in the world to create something worth remembering, worth living in the first place. And now all I can do is sit around and shrug because I have no idea. I don't feel inspired or wanted by the world (except for her) and no place, no thing seems worth anything. This is one of those rare depressions that seeps into your skin and lingers for a long long time. It's the kind of sadness sleep does not touch, does not change. It's the kind fun things might distract, if only momentarily.

It's the kind of thing that literally leaves me thinking of ways to escape. But you know what? You can never run very far from yourself.

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