"But when I fix my eyes on all that You are..." fixing... "Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith..." finishing... "Shall I bring to the point of birth and not delivery?" "...He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus." fix, finish, complete. fix, finish, complete.
picture a runner. you hear a heavy exhale every other beat of her constant footfall. it's rhythmic. it's audibly hypnotic. now reread the first paragraph. add two exhale beats in between each quote. "fix, finish, complete" then deletes the exhales and in a feverish speed the thoughts rattle out like a barrage of bullets from the cerebral center.
now you are inside my head.
that's what I was doing not too long ago. because I am so tired of having the same darn thoughts over and over and over and over and over and over... ah. (...)
I have two months left. two ( )ing months left. but I don't $#&*(^% feel like telling myself "it's almost done. you can do this." I know I can. I know I will. i'm not freaking out. nothing bad happened... just like usual i'm lonely and have too much quiet and time to think. thus I have the TV going and had music playing a minute ago too. plus the clack clack of my fingers on my keyboard.
so much crap has happened. will it really be ok?
tonight at church as people shared "what the resurrection means to me?" my head started racing with what I would say. it was all about the hope coming from the testimony of these 3 years I've been apart from the only man I've ever loved. the guy I've given my freaking EVERYTHING to. and I mean everything! mental, physical and emotional. I poured myself out and now that my entrails became my extrails, it's been freaking hard to live with my extrails not right by your side for 3 years. I know I will be ok but please forgive me for not being ok right now.
but see i'm so tired of complaining and just not being happy... but... ugh I was listening to (now) the moldy oldie "No Air".
~If I should die before I wake/It's 'cause you took my breath away/Losing you is like living in a world with no air/Tell me how I'm supposed to breathe with no air?/Can't live, can't breathe with no air/It's how I feel whenever you ain't there/There's no air, no air
I just want to be told, "of course you're not ok. you shouldn't have been or be." and some have said that... just seems others haven't. is that wrong? should I be ok?... cuz I have Jesus?... ah at this moment I wanna say and hear "no".
it's gonna be ok. it's gonna be ok. 2 months. why am I even thinking about it? I mean compared to the 3 years, this is NOTHING! just at this moment I feel like someone's got a clamp on my throat and a sand bag on my chest. I've not been ok. half of me died aug. 16th 2010... will it come back like it was before? will it ever be the same?... i'm sure I'll look back one day and laugh. just wish I was laughing now.
I hate who I've become. I'm only half functioning. since he left, I couldn't help it but part of my heart and soul was ripped out of my chest so I took an orange branding iron to the arterial spray and burned it shut. I feel I curled into a ball then locked my wrists into fists round my knees and no one or nobody's been able to pry my hands loose. my hearts not been carefree, my laughs been hard bought. I've felt so cold, so heavy, so distracted, sleepless, spacey, grey, boring, distracted. a part of me is gone. i'm different. I've changed. and i'm sick of the change. I don't like this me. i'm tired of this me. but so many things that visit me in nightmares have come in this darkness, can I ever get the old me back... or is a third phase of me eminent? that scares me... that I won't know myself. I know myself now. I don't like myself now, but I know why I am this way. the idea of not knowing what I will be like... it's like being given instructions to make dinner and a list of necessary ingredients I must gather and all the proper cooking apparatus. so I do. it's all in a pile on the stove. but then all I can do is stare at the immobile, raw pieces and parts and know that they on their own will mix and cook and produce a meal. but I have no control over how it happens and thus have no earthly clue what type of fare I will have to serve my guests soon... what if it's disgusting? what if it makes me gag but I have to eat it for the rest of the night?... ah all this unknown...
but... I guess this is when I trust the character of God that He's not One to screw me over. trust, even though it sure doesn't feel like it, that He has a GOOD plan for me... ah but I fear our differing definitions of "good"...
I don't want to think this much. can't I just be a ditzy oblivious woman? or just so simple that this doesn't occur to me. or that blind trust just comes easy to me? argh *raspberries* COME OOOONN! oy i'm tired of being tired and 3 years of complaining of the same thing gets soooo old! sheesh
k i'm done being dumb and complaining and feeling sorry for myself. for now... :D