And I'll use you as a warning sign,
That if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind.
And I'll use you as focal point, So I don’t lose sight of what I want
It's madness out there in the real world, I'm telling you.
Pure and utter chaos. It's like most of us are just running around like chickens with our heads cut off trying to figure out what in the world we're doing.
"Who will I be today?"
And in the midst of all this searching, somewhere along the road we stop feeling. Let's be honest, life is hard and things can really hurt. So you become numb to the real stuff, it's a defense mechanism for me.
Desensitized. I tried to make my heart incapable of breaking...which if you're curious is impossible.
But no matter how much I try to be impenetratable it doesn't stop the truama of life from obliterating any sense of order I've given myself in this mess we've created. And when that trauma hits, boy, you won't be able to handle an ounce of the feeling that it brings.
So you'll probably do like me and stuff all those things back in that deep dark corner of your soul and just "deal with it later."
You'll fill time and space with things, and people, drinks and netflix. The less it matters, the more you want it.
But you can't keep the feelings at bay forever, they're part of this thing we call life. And they'll always creep back in. Whether it's a sad advertisement, a kind gesture from someone, a song that brings back a memory sending chills shooting up your spine. Once that door is open they all rush back in and hit you like a ton of bricks.
They're wired into us like the DNA that defines us and they're begging to get out even if that means ripping open your heart in the process.
So, I scream all the time. Sometimes it's loud, sometimes it's covered by a pillow, sometimes it's in my head and sometimes it's one of those scary whisper angry screams like Rose in Titanic as her lover sinks to the bottom of the ocean....
Some people think I'm screaming because I'm mad, but It's not always anger that fuels my high pitched vocals. Sometimes it's utter joy, other days it's overwhelming sadness...and I think it means that in the moment I'm really feeling, and really feeling means you're really living.
You see, any display of emotion means you're actually feeling something and in this plastic, filtered, permi-fried world of insensitivity, to feel.... leads to the ultimate goal. When's the last time you felt so affected by some kind of injustice that you actually did something about it? And no, reposting a photo on Facebook isn't actually doing something. But, you were moved. Something inside you woke up and you felt that stiring in the pit of your stomach to live.
It's terrifying...to feel things. Because what if they hurt? Or worse, what if they're amazing and then one day....they're gone.
The hardest part is to let go and let the tears flow. Allow the laughter to abound. Give way to the mourning. Rejoice in the sorrow.
Because my God, you're actually feeling. You're living and breathing and you're heart is still beating strong enough to bend and break and let you live.
So just live. Give it all you have and stop faking it. Stop putting on the mask and walking out the door. Look in the mirror and take it all in and just let yourself live, in every single moment.
Find out who you want to be, and be it. Let your feelings move you, change you, urge you to truth.
We are but a breath, we are but a fleeting instant, so do not waste a second hiding from it all. Open your arms and embrace what comes.
Love without regret, give without request, and forgive until you mean it...
Because, life is worth it and it's too short not to figure that out now.
It's been really hard to get out of bed lately.
Have you ever been there? It's this place where you'd like to sleep for a while, just long enough for this season of sadness to pass and then when you wake up...you're just...okay. And then maybe a little while after that you'll be more than okay, but honestly anything would feel better than what if feels like...
right. this. moment.
I think its called depression, but who needs labels. There's different levels and it's not one size fits all, but I will say it seems to just creep up on you. Once you're low....digging out of the hole seems harder and harder.
You've got plenty of things going on, activities to consume your time with, and friends to tell you you're awesome, even though you know they wish you could snap out of it. Therapy helps, if only to remind you that you're not crazy. You might even try essential oils before popping pills to lift your spirits. You've never been here before so how do you know what will work best?
But you do know, you have to get out of bed, and that's the hardest part.
It's when you wake up and all you can think about is that one thing you're dying to stop thinking about, but you're stuck. Like a record that skips on the same verse, over and over and over.
The replays. The reminders. The what ifs.
You tell yourself, five more minutes. I'll just lay here for five more minutes. Give myself a pep talk, and off I'll go. But five turns into 10 which turns into four hours and two documentaries on The World's Most Dangerous Animals you found on Netflix.
Another day slips past you and it's almost as if your dream of sleeping it all away is working. Even though you know it's not because you're not actually getting better laying in that bed, you're just sitting in the sadness, marinating in your bitterness that things aren't different.
THIS IS NOT HOW IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE, you scream in your head.
The best part of all of this is that you NEVER thought you'd be here.
Not you, you're strong.
And right now you're just... surviving.
Have you ever been here? Do you know what I'm talking about? Isn't it just the worst?
Yesterday I googled inspirational quotes for hours for a "pick me up."
"It's not about being the best, it's about being better than you were yesterday."
"Although no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending."
"Experience; that most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God do you learn."
Then I re-read every passage of scripture I've ever found strength from looking for that same breath of fresh air I got the first time I mulled over the words.
"Whom have I in heaven but you, and there is none on earth I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but you are the strength of my heart and my portion forever." Psalm 73
"Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest." Matt. 11:28
It helped, don't get me wrong, but I still can't snap my fingers and make it stop hurting. Trust me, I've tried. Mind over matter, they say. Well my mind is my worst enemy so good luck.
It's in these moments that you come face to face with the raw reality of who you are and how you got here and my God does that hurt. Because if you're honest you probably slap a metaphorical filter on yourself every day of your life until you can't anymore, and you just have to deal with your own poorly lit reflection.
Silver lining, I'm sure there is one. I'm sure it gets better and at least most of the wounds heal. It all works out one way or another and I have to believe the end result is what is best for the soul. Hopefully the scars are pretty and it doesn't take too long for the pain to be a memory, but until then....
Wake up. Roll off the covers and put your feet on the floor. Take a deep breath, because it's going to be hard. Just get out of bed.