“sometimes a hope has to be put to death in order for God to raise it back to life.”
i have been hopeless before. there were hellish times in the darkest days of abuse when i believed nothing would ever change. i don’t know what kept me on some days — my imagination, i guess. pretending to be in another life, another world. i was kept alive and survived by fantasies and belief systems that i would have to do away with later to move through the healing process.
having gone through and survived a life like that (which almost seems unreal to me now) is probably what keeps the flame burning in me despite the people and circumstances which are trying their damndest to snuff it out. the impossible is possible with You Know Who, but when letters, prayers, tears and counsel have done nothing and will do nothing to change the circumstances, i am now left having to just move the hell on with my life. to figure out how to embrace heartbreak. i just can’t understand it. i know it’s possible because of everything that has happened to me — and it’s not like i’ve always been willing or eager to change.
i know i don’t have all the answers. i know i’m not perfect. i know i’m foolish and naïve and have cared too much for someone who doesn’t give a fuck…but, God, why? why have i had to come back here, feeling so hopeless and helpless when i know it doesn’t have to be that way? but it is. *sigh* it is. and there’s nothing i can do about it.
of course, we all want the miracle outcome. maybe i’ve already met my lifetime quota. i would give it back, though, if it meant my prayers would be answered right now. too bad life doesn’t work that way.
no, i’m not talking about the requests people put in when they want to be discreet or private.
i’m talking about the kind that are spoken with silent screams, streaming tears and unconscious beats of an aching heart. lately i’ve thought myself to be rebellious by not getting on my hands and knees and addressing issues and naming names, but really…the prayers have never stopped. as i think about it, it doesn’t have to begin with a salutation of “Dear God/Father/Lord/etc.” or close with a “In Jesus’ Name,” like a formal letter. it’s every thought i think, every action i consider, every emotion that commandeers me…all of it is filtered, all of it is communicated and heard. whether i like it or not. i can’t hide anything, i can’t not think about it. there’s no running, hiding or ignoring…no matter how much i try.
prayer has been my everything through everything. it has drawn me closer to Him, it has softened my heart towards others, it has shaped me as a person. while it does little to change anything around me, it does shift my perspective. still, that’s hella frustrating as a human being, sometimes. lately, whenever i have the presence of mind to purposefully direct something upwards, it’s generally a throwing up of my hands in the air and a heart-felt “whatever.” this after a season of those heartfelt prayers on my hands and knees, begging and pleading and saying the same things over and over in any way i can so maybe i’ll finally say it the right way and believe it the right way so that maybe there will be a difference. with every fiber of my heart, body and being i did this. every damn day. now, i just shrug my shoulders and sigh. it is what it is. que sera, sera. and move along. there’s nothing for me to do.
i have no regrets. none at all. i would do it all over again, the same exact way from beginning to end. i’m assuming this is the natural course of things as as a protective shell of indifference coats my being and a surge of motivation pushes me forward. the biggest battle i have right now is my own thoughts. my mind maze, as i like to refer to it. are any of you a fan of the BBC sherlock series? if so, you know how he refers to his mind as a mind palace? well, mine is a maze. mentally talking myself out of dark corners that i get trapped in, keeping myself from going down unnecessary trails, finding that motivation to keep going when i hit a wall — the same wall — over and over again. it sounds silly, but lately that visual has pulled me out of some very dark corners. it’s sometimes easy to forget what that truth is when you’re lost like that…but you leave yourself some bread crumbs to remind you what the realities are, and to guide you back on track. it doesn’t even matter if i believe it at the time.
i prefer the rawness, now. there’s more boldness in it. maybe that’s what i needed.
i’ve had to do a lot of fighting in my life. i’ve had to fight to survive. i’ve had to fight against the desire to die. i’ve had to fight to recover. hell, every day is a friggin fight…for love, for hope, for relationships, for just trying to focus on what matters…it has made me a stronger person – and for that, i am grateful.
but i truly have come to appreciate those few people in my life who have been willing to step in and throw a few punches for me. when i’m so used to having to go into battle for myself, it catches me off guard when someone jumps in between me and life’s fist for a minute or two. it’s always the other fighters…those who know how to throw a punch. i’m tired, and i know they’re tired, but whether it’s inward or outward, the fighting never stops. and we know it. but we keep going. and when someone else notices…it means something.
so thank you to all the fighters i know. for all the shit you’ve endured and for your willingness to get hit with some of my own, you are something amazing.
we are something amazing.