i swear, if someone tells me “He knows the desires of your heart” one more friggin’ time…

if you knew how difficult something worth having was going to be to obtain, would you still be willing to go after it?

right now, i feel like i’ve sacrificed so much time and emotion over people and ideals that never worked out; and as a result, i have become so afraid of being alone. i know people would say it’s ridiculous at my age to think like that, but there’s a good portion of my life i can never get back. it’s only within these last few years i feel like i’ve begun to live, and time just seems to go by faster. i feel like i’m losing my worth.

but back to my initial question…

i climbed a mountain recently that nearly made me want to fall on my butt on several occasions and weep uncontrollably when i saw what lay ahead. at times, i didn’t give a rip for the view that was at the top. as beautiful as i could imagine it to be wasn’t motivation enough to get up.

my personality typically demands directness. the sharp knife cuts the quickest, hurts the least. if there is hurt to be had or a difficult lesson to be learned or a heartbreak to be endured, just let me get it over with…but if i can’t demand it or just won’t for whatever reason, that’s when stuff get ugly. i plop down, curl up and torment myself with the anticipation. i question if anything is even worth having or pursuing and if i should just “be content” where i am. 

and time after time, just when i think  the inclines are over, then comes another.

for me, ideals are really hard to let go of. i feel empty without them. and afraid. and alone. my imagination is my best friend and my worst enemy. night was always the time for creativity…but now I dread it. my determination has taken one hell of a beating.

i’ve been here before so many times, it seems. i don’t like drifting any more than feeling like i’m stuck in a rut. i want to latch on to something, and feel like i’m worth being latched to. i’ve written down the same kind of thoughts in different entries over the span of five years…and it seems like i still have no better way of “dealing.” i just let the time go by and hope for the best.

so here i sit, looking up at that steep, rocky incline. eyes filling with tears. hearing the argument in the back of my mind to either “suck it up” or “give it up” and wondering what exactly is all this all for, anyway. what’s up there that’s so damn worth all this?

time will tell, i suppose…but i can never trust it to tell me anything because it’s always in such a flippin’ hurry.



i feel like i’ve become estranged to things that i once thought that i loved, things that i was certain of, things i felt so strongly about, so passionate about, so certain about.

i feel like i’ve lost something.

i’ve had to learn how to be content. i’ve had to learn how to roll with the punches. i’ve had to understand that “the show must go on.” i’ve had to pick myself up when i wanted to stay down.  i’ve had to accept that some things/people will never change. that things won’t work out to the way i want them. and on and on and on.

i’ve been asked several times lately what my dreams are, my hopes, my plans…like where do i want to be, what do i want to do, who do i want to be with. i can’t answer those questions anymore. when once i thought i knew, now all i can do is shrug my shoulders.

music, writing, relationships: these were the things i thought i had all planned out. dreams i had allowed myself to dream. but somehow i’ve let them go, or have had to watch them go…for the sake of contentment, it seems. i’ve had to be thankful for what i have…because when i went for the things that exceeded my reach, i got nothing but air. now i feel like it’s a sin for me to get disappointed. and i feel totally selfish about it all…how dare i want more when i have so much to be thankful for already.

i turned 27 yesterday. i’ve realized that i have all i need, but i’ve forgotten how to want. now i’m just afraid to.

am i truly content, or have i just given up?



i’ve been told to do it all my life.

i hear it less and less nowadays, but every now and then – when i least expect it –  someone points it out. if i’m not walking around with a grin on my face, i hear, “SMILE!!!” or they ask me what’s wrong. even complete strangers have come up to me in public to assure me that “it can’t be all that bad.” and 9/10 times, it’s a man.

i’m sure people are well-meaning, but it has always annoyed me. i don’t like being told how to feel. and i’d rather look how i feel than pretend i’m something else. pasting a smile on my face isn’t going to fix anything.

i’m totally fine…until someone feels the need to say something. usually i’m just preoccupied, trying to concentrate or just tired. but then i’m left feeling confused, self-conscious and a bit ticked off.

i wonder what people see when they look at me? am i just a somber person? if i don’t look happy enough all the time, is that a bad reflection of Christ? i’m not always “happy, happy!” but i am content. i know i’m loved. when i entered recovery, i thought the days of depression were over. i never thought i’d consider the idea of suicide again. i thought i had cried enough tears. but i was wrong. it only got worse. which didn’t help my demeanor, i suppose. i felt like everyone was noticing, even when i didn’t really intend for them to. i didn’t want to be seen that way. people told me it was all okay, but i was exhausted and frustrated. i didn’t want to always look like i was carrying this burden. so i struggled, i struggled with how i was supposed to “get happy.” because, apparently, it wasn’t going to magically happen.

i was never “happy” enough growing up, either. i was always told how miserable i looked. (and really, considering my life, who could blame me?). it didn’t take much to make me cry, so i was called a “cry baby.” i was told how moody i was, so i was given different names for my different moods (intended to be a knockoff of sybil).

it was enough learning how to pick my head up after all those years. one day i realized i walked everywhere with my eyes down…and when i looked up, i noticed that there was a whole world around me. a strangely obvious thing, but for so long i lived in a world of shame. i wanted to hide. i didn’t want people to know who i was or what my life was like. if i didn’t see them, they didn’t see me.

i’ve gone through so many changes. i’m constantly growing. i’m not who i was, that’s for sure. i praise God for who He is and what He has done in my life. so whenever someone feels the need to point out the fact that i’m not “happy” enough, i get discouraged. i don’t want to be a performer or a people-pleaser. i don’t want to be fake. i want to be who i am in Christ. do you think He smiled all the time? did that make Him any less of who He was?


there’s a time for everything