At the End of the Day, It's Another Day Over
With my best friend arriving tomorrow, my birthday in two days time, and three days off work, I was really hoping today wouldn't hit me as badly as it has.
Depression-exhaustion hit in over the last week, accompanied by nightmares (which I can barely remember due to the exhaustion) and finally I woke up this morning having clawed three grazes into my back overnight. Great.
Not wanting to listen to Christian music, I deliberately plugged it in on the way to work and settled it into the background with praying...which was hard...and trying to read the Bible...which was nigh on impossible.
Work went good. Really good. I even got a compliment off a client for the research I did before coding her project. And my colleagues were their usual humorous...if somewhat painfully so...selves.
The walk home kinda released the emotions though. Songs I couldn't listen to were skipped...a few went through biting back tears.
Because today, well over 100 of my friends will be hopping in planes and cars to travel to Kansas, for a week of fun and fellowship. We'll ignore the fact that most of them will forget and miss my birthday. That's pretty childish anyway considering I miss most of theirs.
And I won't be there.
Not now.
Not ever again.
Because someone cast the stone. My past condemned me. And God has not, and cannot, defend me. Not because He is powerless. Because my past stands there. And people don't forgive a past.
And I'm struggling with forgiving them. The fear of myself they left me with. The cusp of a mental breakdown at that final rejection.
The people I know betrayed me, and the people I don't. The people who were scared and judged my darkness and gave up on the Light.
The people I have hurt forgave me. The people I haven't condemned me in their hypocritical "loving concern".
I'm not sweet little Jane who tries to love everyone any more.
Losing the guy I love and OYAN changed that for me forever.
I try to be as close to people as I can and maintain distance friendships without letting them too close.
I will never be able to bear the level of pain that he and they gave me ever again. It is worse than anything to date in my life.
To grow up with a messed up life is one thing. To start to raggedly heal around a love and a family and to have them ripped from you. Well. That tears you up far worse than anything.
For the normal and the better you hoped for is now as equally as bad as the nightmare you already lived.
What is light in this world?
What is love?
Trample and spit on it.
For the only place it exists is not in this world.
It is in God.
There are a few people, scattered here and there, who, although faith is shaken, still love and believe in me. Still hope and encourage and pray for me. As much as my painfully broken heart can, I am grateful for and love these people.
They took my family away from me.
Even if they still talked to me, we will never see each other again. I will make one final trip to the US in the next year or so, and then no more.
My reputation, hope for a different life, hope for a future, hope to change.
The ministry I had dreamed of.
And now I am left yet again, with a broken heart, shattered dreams, empty hands and tears dripping.
I don't want to dream again. Not ever.
But I can't help hope. Hope in God to heal all things. Even this. Even this.
Someday. Somehow. Somewhere.
Because God heals.
I know that.
Even if I can't see it.
And I just have to take one more step.
One more breath.
One more day.
~Siân
Depression-exhaustion hit in over the last week, accompanied by nightmares (which I can barely remember due to the exhaustion) and finally I woke up this morning having clawed three grazes into my back overnight. Great.
Not wanting to listen to Christian music, I deliberately plugged it in on the way to work and settled it into the background with praying...which was hard...and trying to read the Bible...which was nigh on impossible.
Work went good. Really good. I even got a compliment off a client for the research I did before coding her project. And my colleagues were their usual humorous...if somewhat painfully so...selves.
The walk home kinda released the emotions though. Songs I couldn't listen to were skipped...a few went through biting back tears.
Because today, well over 100 of my friends will be hopping in planes and cars to travel to Kansas, for a week of fun and fellowship. We'll ignore the fact that most of them will forget and miss my birthday. That's pretty childish anyway considering I miss most of theirs.
And I won't be there.
Not now.
Not ever again.
Because someone cast the stone. My past condemned me. And God has not, and cannot, defend me. Not because He is powerless. Because my past stands there. And people don't forgive a past.
And I'm struggling with forgiving them. The fear of myself they left me with. The cusp of a mental breakdown at that final rejection.
The people I know betrayed me, and the people I don't. The people who were scared and judged my darkness and gave up on the Light.
The people I have hurt forgave me. The people I haven't condemned me in their hypocritical "loving concern".
I'm not sweet little Jane who tries to love everyone any more.
Losing the guy I love and OYAN changed that for me forever.
I try to be as close to people as I can and maintain distance friendships without letting them too close.
I will never be able to bear the level of pain that he and they gave me ever again. It is worse than anything to date in my life.
To grow up with a messed up life is one thing. To start to raggedly heal around a love and a family and to have them ripped from you. Well. That tears you up far worse than anything.
For the normal and the better you hoped for is now as equally as bad as the nightmare you already lived.
What is light in this world?
What is love?
Trample and spit on it.
For the only place it exists is not in this world.
It is in God.
There are a few people, scattered here and there, who, although faith is shaken, still love and believe in me. Still hope and encourage and pray for me. As much as my painfully broken heart can, I am grateful for and love these people.
They took my family away from me.
Even if they still talked to me, we will never see each other again. I will make one final trip to the US in the next year or so, and then no more.
My reputation, hope for a different life, hope for a future, hope to change.
The ministry I had dreamed of.
And now I am left yet again, with a broken heart, shattered dreams, empty hands and tears dripping.
I don't want to dream again. Not ever.
But I can't help hope. Hope in God to heal all things. Even this. Even this.
Someday. Somehow. Somewhere.
Because God heals.
I know that.
Even if I can't see it.
And I just have to take one more step.
One more breath.
One more day.
~Siân
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Thanks for sharing your thoughts. :)