The Return

Perhaps it's time to stop hiding from the world.

It was such a lovely, delicious thing. For every external thing that I say, ten more are swirling around internally. To turn all of it inward has been...interesting. I have decided to join the land of the living (aka facebook) once again. My experiment led me to discover a few things.

One....facebook has its uses. Invitations to events being the most important.

Two....I needed a facebook intervention. Even now, knowing it's active, I feel an odd twitch in my left eye. Not really, but close!

Three...5 minutes, and I was better off before. Nothing to be done about it now.

Life goes on.

I just keep taking the blows, invisible to everyone else, but each one melting through my fake smile, concussing through my body, seeping into my bones, dragging the energy out of me, taking more, stealing pieces of my sanity. It's funny how a hurt feels. It slams into you like a wave, then washes over you, leaving an ache all over, until it centers, somehow, in the specific physical region of your heart. There it settles, and kind of pulses with each beat, successive ebbs of pain that get a little fainter each time. After a few minutes, a dull ache remains, so the smile gets pasted back on, and you pick yourself back up, hoping the shockwaves are small.

So here I sit, all these little pieces of me in my hand, holding them up to God and crying, "Please fix me." I'm the only one paying this price right now. Which adds another dimension to this experience. I can only take it to God...even when I feel like I want to talk about it....exactly who am I supposed to go to? I've never run across any person who has been able to say, "I have been there" and really have been here.

Sometimes I just want to scream...this is not the life I ordered!


I don't even mind that it's hard....it's supposed to be. But on days like today, when the cross I bear is more than I can carry, when my knees are weak and I'm stumbling, and all I want to do is cry (which I don't do much), I just don't know what to do.

Except turn off the lights, crawl in bed, and pray harder than I ever have before. Get up, grab a kleenex, write it down (or type it out), and keep going.

Now where is my $200??