Recommendations for the Road

It has been interesting, taking a journey going nowhere.  I have fought and screamed, ranted and raved, smoked a cigarette or two while camping out in my aunt's studio apartment.  We were worried about me and there was no one I could trust myself with but her.  I deactivated my Facebook account and praised God many drunken evenings for doing so!!  Tried changing my phone number even, but work and house-hunters have kept me too busy to make it to Verizon.  Instead, it's been turned off most days.

I don't know if I would recommend this to anyone.  Let's face it (or let me face it, admit it): some day I would like to marry and have baby-Raes running around (or baby-whomever is strong enough to marry me).  Yes, love and babies, but ain't gunna happen if I don't let a man in (into my heart, gutters-heads!).  So, I've had to go inside my heart all by myself and IT IS PAINFUL.  It hurts.  It's like everything you have ever felt in your life exploding at the drop of a comment, a sound, my unshed tears.  Swearing became my new language, so offensive, so automatic, and Pandora's box was opened and dumped out on my balcony.  My neighbors know a lot more about me now.

Would I recommend this?  You hate yourself until you realize you hate everyone else instead until you realize you don't hate anyone, you're just really, really hurt.  Bruised, not broken, but's it's the large, dark bruise on your calf that starts turning green.  Unlike the last time, I didn't have a big sister near to rush me to the hospital.

So, although necessary in my life to truly live, I wouldn't recommend this to anyone who is alone (praise God I had my aunt).  If someone does choose to take this kind of journey (and you have someone like an aunt or a therapist), here is my advice:

When in this phase of your healing, do not listen to metal no matter how much you love Quiet Riot.  I learned from experience, trust me.  I would not recommend it.

I would, however, recommend journaling.  Lots and lots of journaling (especially when your therapist seems to be out of the country every time you need her most).  No need for systems and fancy stuff.  Girlfriend, when you goin' crazy, just grab the nearest napkin and take it out on that.  I wrote some pretty ugly stuff in notebooks, but for once, the ugly stuff wasn't about me.  Yes, there were a few pages directed at the man currently holding my jewelry hostage, but I can't even be mad at him for long.  He has no clue who I am and I have no clue who he is.  I misdiagnosed us from the start, protected myself accordingly, and scared him away like I do best, before we could ever decide if we wanted to give us a chance.  Journal.

Lastly, don't try finding a safe place in someone who has never gone through the stuff you've gone through.  No matter how much they love you, they'll never get it and they'll never be able to understand the chaotic, inner roller coaster you are on.  Seriously, it can ruin a friendship.

Why blog about this?  Really, I don't know.  I believe God gave me the gift of writing for a reason, but when I've shut down all that made me vulnerable, my words couldn't get through the steel demeanors I built around me.  Without vulnerability, I couldn't write, but I'm writing again and I thank God for it.  I even found a poem I wrote forever ago about how writing has saved my life.  Maybe blogging about this is a way to remind someone else how writing can save lives.  And there's no need for me to share all the personal stuff in my notebooks.  I think a nice summary blog post will suffice.  If not, of course, you can always go talk to my neighbors!  ;-)

Freedom-Bound I Be

Do you ever want to just hit the trail and go?  Put the car in drive and speed towards the horizon as though you'll catch the sun.  Run away from it all, start again.  Find a hut on a beach, sell lots of coconuts, and make lots of babies who run around half naked and tan in the freedom of the wind and seas.

Oh, how I want to run, but this time I'm just too tired.  Tired of being everything for everybody when I don't even know how to be anything for myself.  Tired of people dying.  Tired of not being able to grieve because I have to be strong for everyone else.  I'm tired of having to smile at you when I really wish you'd never looked my way in the first place because I feel like a donkey's ass today.  Donkey's asses do not smile.  I'm tired of having to be nice to you when I know you'll be the first one to tell my boss's boss that I swore in my personal blog.  I'm tired of being the strong one and I'm tired of being afraid no matter how strong I act.  Tired of the fear that is so deep in me, as deep as the Nile is long.  I just want to be real, and raw - authentic in my skin without being considered crazy or dramatic or un-Christian.  More than anything, I want to be FREE...

Away from it all, run far away, never to look back, and I'm always happy to do so (I've been known to cross state lines from time to time).  But not anymore.  Not anymore.  I am weary and God won't let me run again.  I would go and never look back, but He says no.  "No, you're not running anymore.  You're going to sit still and be.  No, you're not going anymore.  You're going to sit still and listen.  You're going to look back and see why, then you're going to peel back every putrid layer of decaying history and see why some more.  You're going to see who you truly are - real, raw, authentic in your skin.  It's going to hurt, but I promise you that you will finally be free.  Free to love, free to be, free to truly follow me."

So here I go, my first journey taken without ever going.  Here I be, sitting still to chase the horizon and catch the sun.  Here I am - real, raw, authentic in my skin...  and freedom-bound I be.