Wednesday, November 28, 2007

I think there may be light coming...

So, I am posting a bunch of depressing stuff I wrote in the last week below, but today I woke up feeling lighter than I have for a while. My acting coach told me that freedom comes with responsibility, and that thought is percolating in my soul - also that God doesn't give us freedom but he gives us chances to grab it for ourselves. So I am realizing that I have to get up off my butt and reach for what I want even when it scares me shitless.
Anyway - the depressing stuff. Here it is.

I’m not sure I believe in God’s love anymore.

I believe He exists. That He is who He says He is. The whole dying for sins thing too, being the saviour of the world.

But my saviour?

It is so hard. To trust. To have faith. To believe that He cares for me, that He cares what happens to me, that in the outcome of my life He has any interest.

In chapel today we read a psalm aloud. “In Him does my heart trust.” Trust came out as a whisper.

I don’t trust God right now and I think that maybe if I did I wouldn’t feel so full of pain and despair but the feelings aren’t going away and I don’t feel His presence any closer so it’s hard to start trusting Him now.

God, I hate this.

I don’t know why it started and I don’t see any ending.

It goes away for a day here and there which just makes it that much worse when it comes back.

And I keep running into blocks in my acting that are connected to specific things that happened in my life that are connected to how I feel now, and I can’t make any headway and I am despairing in everything.

I know I need to get help but I am reluctant. Afraid.

Pray for me. I ask this with the awareness of the irony therein. Pray for me, that my faith might come back and my joy might return.

I have to learn to trust myself. I have to learn to listen to myself. I have to stop being so hard on myself.

It isn’t that I don’t believe in God. I still do. I believe he exists. I just don’t believe so much that he cares about me. And I’m wondering just why I should care about him.
My faith has never been super strong. My brother said it well – I’m more sure that I won’t let my 6 year old watch LoTR than I am that I will be a Christian when I have said 6 year old. God know this, or He should. So why is He testing me this way? He knows I’m not strong in this area. He knows better. He is gambling and He might lose. I don’t understand why He would do this.

I am not strong enough to be Job and yet that is who I am being forced to be.

Stream of Consciousness Murky and Dark

How can I act now? I am missing my soul.
How can I make art? My tool is an empty shell without heart or warm blood.
How can I create when I am dead?

My soul is trapped so deep within me
it screams and all that comes out is a smile
on an empty vacuous face
How are you?
Fine, fine
and my spirit is dying but no one can see it
and I have no fire left within me
the Ecthroi have won
and they chew on my bones

In all seriousness I do not know how I can go on being an artist when I feel so dead. I cannot access anything and I feel that all my acting is a mask behind which is so much anger and pain that it overwhelms me so I shy away from it.
I am sick. I am tired of being full of pain and anger.
I want to be happy from the depths of my toes to the lightness of my head.
I want to be free in every way – I want my body to be everything, my voice to be unleashed, my soul to fly and swirl and my eyes to see something other than blackness.
My eyes to be something other than empty.

Why does my spirit only flash and spark sometimes?
It isn’t gone, it teases me with moments of fullness and life and then hides away in some deep mark of my psyche that is hidden, so hidden that I can barely feel the pulse to let me know I am still even alive.
Not so gone that people worry about me.
Not there enough for me to be truly alive.
Not gone enough for me to abandon all hope.
Not present enough for me to believe that it will come back.

Am I going to be like this forever.
Am I going crazy? Have I lost my mind?
Am I imbalanced somewhere?

I feel like a living lie.
I am crashing and burning and I do not know how to be honest.
I don’t know how to tell anyone so I hint and I pull away and wait for someone to see and reach out to catch me or cushion my fall. Or at least say look, someone is on fire.

All my soul is on the outside of my body burning me alive
and it doesn’t hurt
because my soul is outside watching
and I wouldn’t be on fire
if my soul could feel the burning
It doesn’t care enough to come back inside
It is tired of being trapped
so it has gone on vacation
and is waiting, somewhere, for my body to catch up to it.

Maybe I’m just tired.
Maybe I just need a break.
Maybe I’m depressed.
It certainly took long enough coming.

I don’t want to die though.
That’s a good thing. I think.
I just want to sleep until it all feels better.
Or until it feels like something.

Other than pain.

Because I don’t want to deal with it and I’m sick of being weak.
That is what pain is to me – tears and weakness that I should control better.
I thought I had dealt with this but apparently I haven’t.

And I write this and I know people will think this is my every waking moment but it isn’t
I just feel like this a lot
not all the time.

I still laugh from a real place
watching cats jump into walls on YouTube
I still smile from a real place when Scott leans his head against me
I still feel love from a real place
just not a God place
because God has abandoned me
and left me to fend for myself
like I always do.
Like I always have to do.

I know he’s the one who’s footprints I’ll see later
but I think that’s a crock of shit.
I’m drifting away from him
but he isn’t stopping me
or even trying to answer me when
I pray

Why have you forsaken me again?
Again again again again again
Always forsaken in the end
He would rather watch me self-destruct
than come down and meddle with his fucked up creation

Fuck you, God.

Why can’t I just leave you and try to find a way out alone?
Why do I always pray and cry out for help that doesn’t come, help that you so sporadically ladle out that I have some hope that maybe you do care after all and you are leaving me like this to grow in some way?
I hate growing
you should know that by now

I want the growing part to be over
I want to be an adult already

I am sick of adolescence. But that is where I’m stuck
So there you have it. Two statements of where I've been at for what seems like forever.
Although I think I may be done throwing the tantrum now.
We'll see...

1 comment:

gracie said...

you write like a true psalmist.