Everything Is Hard Sometimes

So, I got engaged 2 months ago. And everything has been a whirlwind. Because I’m getting married in February, and that’s 3 months away and I don’t know what I need help with but I feel like everyone has an opinion. But it’s our wedding. It’s my and Bobby’s wedding. So the only opinion that should matter is our own.

We were only supposed to be here 3 months. But we’ve been here 6. So we’re trying to move. And moving is hard. Finding new jobs is hard. Finding a place to live is hard. And I’m so afraid we can’t do it. I’m so afraid that moving home and all the things since have been a terrible mistake. Even though I love my job. Even though I make enough. There’s never been anything for me here. And there’s definitely nothing here for Bobby. He’s why we’re leaving. Because he gave up everything to move across the country with me. But things have only gone wrong. If I could turn back time, I probably would have done things differently.

I’m depressed and everything feels hard. I’ve been off my meds since the summer, because I couldn’t get health insurance. And apparently my home church has changed so much that I’m not allowed to be depressed here. Because depression obviously means that the love of my life isn’t really the love of my life. Even though he is. And he was there for me when no one else was. What a great way to make me not feel at home in my home.

But mostly, I just miss my mom. I hate planning a wedding without her. I hate that she won’t be there when I marry my best friend. I hate that she’s never met him. And I hate that I can’t even talk about it.

I Don’t Want to Live in This World

I hate this world that I’ve created.

I hate that I moved across the country with big dreams, none of them being fulfilled.  They’ve been destroyed so much that I’ve let them go altogether.  I don’t even write anymore.  I probably don’t even exist anymore.

I hate that I moved to the south and have encountered far more entitled people than I ever did living in a resort town.  I hate that I feel that I can do nothing right.  I hate that I don’t have anyone to depend on, so I’ve learned to depend on myself.  I hate that my heart aches for a church like the one I left behind.  I  hate that I can’t find that here.  I hate that every promotion brings more misery, instead of confidence.  I hate that I complain so often.  I hate that I’m depressed.

I miss my home.  I miss my family.  I miss my friends.  I miss my mom.  If I had known that moving here would mean losing her, I never would have come.  I miss that she made me empowered.  I wish that I had appreciated it while she was around.

I don’t want to be alive in this world anymore.  I know it’s supposed to get better.  I know it always has gotten better.  But I don’t like the in between.  I don’t like that I’m in the in between again.  I don’t like that I’ve gotten so lost, that I’ve disappeared completely.

Days Like Today

Sometimes I don’t feel like trying anymore.  I don’t want to get out of bed.  I don’t want to go to work.  I don’t want to have to deal with anyone here.  It’s days like these that I’m so tempted to quit everything, pack up my car, and move back home.  Because I know I’d be welcomed there with open arms.  I know I would be taken care of.  Simple things wouldn’t seem so damn hard.

I’m in a place where I feel that no matter what I do, I’m not good enough, not matter how I go about my tasks.  Nothing ever goes to plan, so what is the point in planning anything anyway?

I’ve known for a long time that depression tends to get worse around the holidays.  And I’m really feeling it.  I just want this month to be over.

I need time to reassess.  I need to move forward, not back.

I know that this won’t last forever.  I know that I’ve felt this before and been free of it.  I can and will be free again.  It just takes time.

The Case of the “I Don’t Matter”s

I’m experiencing an increasing case of the “I don’t matter”s.  So much that it’d probably be easier to disappear.  And I don’t need people to try harder or act smarter or to learn to remember.  Because it’s me.

And it makes me think.  Maybe no one really matters.  I mean, people matter to each other, and it’s my fault that I have no one.  I’ve never really learned to have anyone.  But in the largest meaning of the word, no one matters.  We are all just blips.  Time keeps going, and the longer time gets, the smaller chance our existence will impact anything.

I feel really abandoned, but I’m the one who abandons.  I’m the one who packs up and moves away.  I’m the one who doesn’t stay in touch.  I’m the heart breaker with a broken heart.

I went to a friend’s family’s thanksgiving.  I traveled to be there.  On the way home, I realized it probably would have been better for everyone if I hadn’t gone.  My being there changed nothing.  I was just overwhelmed.  Because I don’t like lots of new people.  I don’t like feeling stuck.  I’m not good at socializing.  Why do I think that because there is a holiday, I need to spend it somewhere, when I’d be happier at home?  I don’t matter.

I entered into something I didn’t mean to enter into.  But it wouldn’t matter if I was here or not.  They can argue over everything without me anyway.  And there would probably be fewer arguments if I didn’t show up, because I’m too liberal, apparently.  Anything I have to say just gets interrupted and forgotten.  I don’t matter.

And when people say that nothing is going to change, it always changes.  When they say you won’t get dropped, they’ll have excuses for when you do.  Because it’s impossible to articulate anything real at all.

I feel alone.  But I feel alone because I don’t know how to express what is inside of me.  I don’t know how to make anyone understand this grief that has built up.  I don’t know how to be anyone else.  I don’t matter.

And Then She Walked Into the Room

And then she walked into the room
And everything was forgotten
Words stopped flowing
As awe washed over
Interrupting banter
But is it even important?

And then she walked into the room
Eyes rushed toward her
Welcoming her home
As if for the very first time
Hearts skipped a beat
And ears stopped hearing

And then she walked into the room
Like nothing else mattered
Prodigal returned
Swept up in it all
All else is forgotten

And then she walked into the room
And I ceased to exist

“Save Me”

“Save me”
Crying out
“Save me”
Clawing at the edges
“Save me”
Can’t pull yourself up

“I can’t do this on my own
Not anymore”
You yell this in his face
As he gently beckons
Just let go

Afraid of heights
Pulling yourself to the top of the pit
Will not look back at what you’re climbing from
Begging
“Save me”
Just let go

Beneath you
Right beneath you
Are arms poised and ready
Waiting for you to just let go
So they can catch you

“Save me”
Crying out
As you pull away from salvation
Not realizing you are saved
If you’d just let go

No longer waiting
No longer striving in fear
“Save me”
Words that are only memories to your lips
Just let go
You are safe

Anti Permanence

I’m in that state again.  You know, that state.  I poured out too much of myself.  And now I’m just done.  Hopefully just for a little while.

I decided to play through some old songs.  Songs I wrote when I was nineteen.  Songs from that time in my life.  And it made me think.  It’s always dangerous to think too deep, maybe.  I started to think about the people who used to be in my life.  All the people I’ve talked about forever with.  And it makes me think about how there is no forever.  Or there is an eternity.  So maybe I’ll see them again.  But not in this life.  Not now.

I took a nap.  I only take naps when my mind is in it’s current state.  That state.  And when I wake up I usually feel worse.  It makes me want to sleep forever.  And really, how much easier would it be to sleep forever?  It’s one of my dreams in life.  To sleep forever.
But I know that I’ll get up tomorrow and be fine.  I’m always fine.  And in my transient lifestyle, with my anti permanent friendships, relationships, and homes, always being fine will always be permanent.  In the ups and downs, I will always be okay.  I don’t even have anything deep to say right now.

This isn’t quality.  I’m not quality right now.  I joked earlier today about quantity versus quality.  Right now, I feel like neither.  Because my mind is in that state.  But.  But.  That state isn’t a permanent one.  My life has lacked permanence.  And right now, I choose to be thankful for it.  As I’ll get out of this too.