Friday, March 6, 2009

How Many Times Can I Break Till I Shatter?

Have you ever wanted to completely leave your life? I don't mean that in a depression/suicide/mental-basket sort of way. I just mean, leaving....changing...escaping. In a sense, running away.

I've often looked fondly on people who up and move at the drop of a hat. They go wherever the wind takes them. Free spirits. I've lived with at least 13 people/roommates. All of them had very different personalities; they all were unique in their own ways. But two in particular stuck out. They were the two that saw life as an adventure and followed it wherever it took them. Part of me was always jealous of that. Part of me has always wanted to be that way.

I loved living in St. Louis. I loved every bit of it. I loved the whole aspect of being away from everything that I could hold dear to and find my security and identity in. I embraced the newness of my life and with every breath I drank in the freshness that I found. Then I knew it was time to return to Kenosha. Time to return to my life. Kenosha hadn't changed much, but I had.

Nothing in my life has panned out the way that I thought it would. Not one thing. I'm actually "okay" with it, really. I'm almost 30 and over the last year have become fine with the prospect of maybe being single for my entire life - over this past week I've actually gotten to a place where I don't want to be married at all. I don't think I'm cut out for it. Don't think I can handle it. That's huge.

I'm almost 30 and I thought that by now I'd have been everywhere. I would've guessed I'd have lived in England, lived in Africa, been to Scotland, seen Ireland as I rolled through the grass there, I'd have at least 4 or 5 children already and be getting closer and closer to returning to Kenosha to raise them there.

Clearly that is not the case. Not the case at all.

I am fine with those things, but this season of life has hit me hard. When my mom was sick I knew the strength and peace of God. I knew the nearness of the people who loved me the most. Now I feel, alone. Not that God has left me or anything, but just that He's allowing things to happen to me so that the nasty things IN me would rise to the surface to get dealt with. It sucks. I feel ugly and annoying. Why would anyone else like me when I can't even stand myself? Ha! I'm just being honest. The millions of people (or maybe just two) who read this know I'm not a person who seeks outward patting on the shoulders to find my identity. That's the last thing I need, attention like that. I'm just being perfectly honest, open and real. Writing is the easiest thing for me to do, yet seems to have gotten me in the most amount of trouble as well in recent times.

Pressure. I feel pressure in every area of my life. I find rest in none, but God. It's hard. It sucks a lot of the time. It would be so much easier for me to run away from everything. I know I'm supposed to be here, but I don't want to be. I'd rather just run away; drop contact with anyone and everyone, start over in a small town with a new name and a new identity...

In other news....

I had a dream last night that I was at a huge Presidential function in a large field-house. Barak was there walking around but no one could get to him. Brianne and Laura were there with me and had already taken their seats - after trying unsuccessfully to get over to the Obama's to shake their hands. I was on my own for a bit and as I was walking, straight in front of me was Barak, walking towards me. I confidently walked up to him, which threw him off guard, I stuck out my hand and met his with a firm handshake. Holy freakin' heck, the guy was like 7 feet tall and massively intimidating. I looked him in the eye and said "Hello Mr. President, I just want you to know that I am seeking God for you and your family. I'm praying for you." With that I smiled, and he looked at me like he wanted to kill me. Then I walked away and found my seat.

I woke up thinking that Barak Obama wanted to kill me with his laser beam eyes.


chen said...

I shook his hand last year, and I was impressed with the softness of his skin, the firm grip, and the lingering security in the look of his eyes. He looked each person in the eye as he shook their hand, and I was impressed that his eyes weren't darting around to the next person or to more important people to address. Each person had his full attention for that split second.

And oh. Why not go explore, girl?