Lead me, Lord.
the definition of insanity is doing something over and over even if you know it's bad for you
or something like that.
Twice now I've heard that from people. Intelligent people. Atleast mentors of some kind, I suppose.
It's 3.28 am and I'm huddled in a chair with my comforter, still cold. The lights outside my window are always warm, but sometimes troubling. And I know the lake is out there, somewhere.
I'm having nightmares again.
I woke up sweaty and disoriented, breathing heavily. Staring at the warmth in those lights, I concentrated hard on where I was, and tried to logically convince my mind that I'm safe--no threat of death after you open your eyes. Still I need some logical explanations, like I've always needed since I was a child. The door's locked. I live on the fifth floor. No one could have broken into the windows.
When I was young I used to read the Bible after waking up from nightmares. I guess this is slightly ironic, seeing as I was reading about Christianity before I fell asleep. Every time I read about it, I question where my Faith went.
No religion to comfort me anymore, I tentatively tip-toed from bedroom to living room, looking in all of the corners and all of the rooms before I went to the bathroom where I could turn on the lights. I'm afraid of the dark, but you may have known that. I'm not really ashamed of it. I may have told you before. It's the worst after nightmares. I could lay in bed for hours after waking up, and be utterly terrified until I walk around my safe space and analyze the dark corners of the entire perimeter.
Following my trip to the bathroom, I approached the comfort of reading the words of my friends, which is something I haven't had the most time for lately. Upon my reading I came across a very sincere and sincerely sad letter. Not one of mine or even one to me, but one relevant enough to create an involuntary stream of warm tears. I am no stranger to tears the past few days, nor to getting choked up, but it was difficult to accept my emotions after they began to stem from a new source. Sometimes when you feel like you're just about maxed out on sadness, it's hard to accept more. I'm so used to barreling up every negative emotion that sometimes it's hard to even accept sadness in its first appearance; a third significant reason to be sad often threatens to really break out of me.
There are places I can't go, and there are people that I can't be. I wanted to be them, or I want to be them to someone in the future. I've never had intentions not to be that person. Sometimes it's nice to realize flat out what you want, what you've been missing. Truth is, as much as I shy away from it and distance myself, unintentionally making a mess of things a lot of times, I really do just want to be someone's number one. I crave companionship. I detest secrets; I need to know something whether it will kill me or make me wonder why I tried so hard coaxing out of you some dumb joke your friend told you that you didn't even feel the need to waste breath explaining to me. Back when maybe I was a little less scared of being open with people, my life story and my day to day emotions used to pour out of my mouth like so much unbarred water.
And so maybe part of it is honesty. I crave to be able to trust someone enough to be completely laid out, naked and honest to someone. The more I think about it, I can't remember the last time I felt comfortable telling someone everything. However, I don't seem to have ever lost the notion that it's possible and I've done it before.
Sometimes when I'm running on empty and I absolutely need something, anything, these revelations or reminders of my goals, of who I am, of who I want to be, come up or pop into my head. Maybe it's God comforting me. Maybe it's my mind searching wildly for something to grab onto. Maybe it's just pure chance. Whatever it is, it stops the panic and reveals that it's okay to feel alone sometimes, as long as you have the clear image of yourself to guide you, there are always new directions to take.
or something like that.
Twice now I've heard that from people. Intelligent people. Atleast mentors of some kind, I suppose.
It's 3.28 am and I'm huddled in a chair with my comforter, still cold. The lights outside my window are always warm, but sometimes troubling. And I know the lake is out there, somewhere.
I'm having nightmares again.
I woke up sweaty and disoriented, breathing heavily. Staring at the warmth in those lights, I concentrated hard on where I was, and tried to logically convince my mind that I'm safe--no threat of death after you open your eyes. Still I need some logical explanations, like I've always needed since I was a child. The door's locked. I live on the fifth floor. No one could have broken into the windows.
When I was young I used to read the Bible after waking up from nightmares. I guess this is slightly ironic, seeing as I was reading about Christianity before I fell asleep. Every time I read about it, I question where my Faith went.
No religion to comfort me anymore, I tentatively tip-toed from bedroom to living room, looking in all of the corners and all of the rooms before I went to the bathroom where I could turn on the lights. I'm afraid of the dark, but you may have known that. I'm not really ashamed of it. I may have told you before. It's the worst after nightmares. I could lay in bed for hours after waking up, and be utterly terrified until I walk around my safe space and analyze the dark corners of the entire perimeter.
Following my trip to the bathroom, I approached the comfort of reading the words of my friends, which is something I haven't had the most time for lately. Upon my reading I came across a very sincere and sincerely sad letter. Not one of mine or even one to me, but one relevant enough to create an involuntary stream of warm tears. I am no stranger to tears the past few days, nor to getting choked up, but it was difficult to accept my emotions after they began to stem from a new source. Sometimes when you feel like you're just about maxed out on sadness, it's hard to accept more. I'm so used to barreling up every negative emotion that sometimes it's hard to even accept sadness in its first appearance; a third significant reason to be sad often threatens to really break out of me.
There are places I can't go, and there are people that I can't be. I wanted to be them, or I want to be them to someone in the future. I've never had intentions not to be that person. Sometimes it's nice to realize flat out what you want, what you've been missing. Truth is, as much as I shy away from it and distance myself, unintentionally making a mess of things a lot of times, I really do just want to be someone's number one. I crave companionship. I detest secrets; I need to know something whether it will kill me or make me wonder why I tried so hard coaxing out of you some dumb joke your friend told you that you didn't even feel the need to waste breath explaining to me. Back when maybe I was a little less scared of being open with people, my life story and my day to day emotions used to pour out of my mouth like so much unbarred water.
And so maybe part of it is honesty. I crave to be able to trust someone enough to be completely laid out, naked and honest to someone. The more I think about it, I can't remember the last time I felt comfortable telling someone everything. However, I don't seem to have ever lost the notion that it's possible and I've done it before.
Sometimes when I'm running on empty and I absolutely need something, anything, these revelations or reminders of my goals, of who I am, of who I want to be, come up or pop into my head. Maybe it's God comforting me. Maybe it's my mind searching wildly for something to grab onto. Maybe it's just pure chance. Whatever it is, it stops the panic and reveals that it's okay to feel alone sometimes, as long as you have the clear image of yourself to guide you, there are always new directions to take.