On the way to school one day, way back in 2006, I thought to myself: “If I ever ran away, I would leave clues – friends names that correlate with streets, birthdays as codes on lock boxes with letters about my whereabouts in them- I would not just disappear cold turkey. I would figure out who was dedicated enough to find me.”
Since then I have always had a physical location I can run to when the going gets tough. The last two years I have utilized locations like: my parents house, Lauren’s apartment, Georgia, my grandmother’s house, my mentor’s house, etc. Over the last six months I have desperately attempted to keep myself from going to the places in my head, where I have to relocate myself physically, and I’ve been very successful with it. … Until tonight.
Honestly I didn’t realize I was hiding, or what was really going on at all, until I was sitting in the passenger seat of a truck with the windows rolled down. The smell of cigarettes wafting passed me gently reeling me back down to earth. I wanted so badly to ask for one but knew that if I did, the reality of my state would be illuminated full force.
I don’t want to talk about it. I want to cry. I want to understand what happened… No I don’t. The verbal processor that I am would want to talk about every piece of the night, and pinpoint the exact moment I lost the ability to cope.
I never got to be a kid. I want it back. I do not want to handle my life. I just want to flip the switch and be fine. I was so good at that before i started feeling again.
Today I have felt the burden of my own being. I have felt the emotion disconnect of others as I spoke, and been ensure of what to do next. I have cried heavy tears. I have laughed uncontrollably, to the point where I question my sanity.
I feel like I am not enough – for anyone – for God.
Sunday, my sister leaves for college, and I will be left to start a new job and classes. As I sit on the floor of Bristol House, Damian’s strumming softly mingling with my thoughts, I recognize that I will be fine but I just want to run away. I want to stay in the house, on this floor, in my yoga pants and kitty shirt, until I die. I just want stability. It’s what I’ve worked toward all summer with my therapist, yet here I sit dreading the coming weeks.
Campers are gone, my staff has dispersed, I am returning to Criswell, and yet I can not cope. Maybe post-camper-depression is finally settling in, but I want it back more than I expected to experience this far past their departure.
I’m so sick of feeling as though nothing has changed, and I have to guard myself from everyone all the time.
Thats all I have to say.
A few days ago I set the above photo as my profile picture. It was was take at APEX, an organization for children to keep them safe and teach them about acting out of love and not hate, on our last day. I had just finished high school, and was about to embark on a journey to where I am today. The last night of this trip I laid in bed, as I attempted – and failed – to cry myself to sleep. Much like tonight, I ran through a list of questions regarding my future, until finally I felt I might explode. I found two wonderful woman leaders that were still awake, and summoned them to discuss my future and provide assistance in clarifying what to do next. Two years later, I lay here listening to Meghan snore softly in the bed next to me, and I still have no idea what I’m doing. Two years of suffering and I am still waiting. Two years of searching and I am still waiting. I am not alone for the first time in two years, but I feel the pain of the past as I am still waiting. I spent over a year praying to hear God’s voice and feel his presence again, and here I am on the other side still waiting for answers.
Everything I worked toward for years has gone out the window. Every faith walking sessions that has taught me how to be vulnerable has gone out the window. Every effort I have made to let people in has gone out the window. The last week has crushed my spirit, and left me so heavy. I just want to hide. I just want to be alone. I haven’t been able to cry because I stopped letting myself be vulnerable. I need it back. I need your help God. Someone please save me from myself…
I am so tired that I don’t care enough to try to hide that I’m not okay, but if you ask if I am, I’m going to lie. If the wrong people are around when you ask, I’m going to lie. If I feel like you aren’t interested in hearing the full story, I’m going to lie. If I think you will abandon me, or if I’m getting to attached to you, I’m going to lie. If I can find an excuse not to let you in, I’m going to take it. It sucks finding myself in this place again after all the work I did, and now its down the drain.