Mondays I think are my least favorite day of the week. They always come too quickly to end the weekend and they force me back into reality. And reality generally just kind of sucks, do you know? There is so much going on that I don't write about here, and it's really not my favorite.
I used to write about everything I felt on this blog, but lately I've been keeping all those questioning thoughts and inward wrestling ideas in a private journal. I'm not sure if that's better, but at least it's something. At least it has potential to help me sort out my own thoughts and feelings - although sometimes that doesn't help. Sometimes no matter what words get put on those lined pages, I still feel a little lost. I still feel a little foggy. I still feel a little directionless.
It's not in every aspect of life though, you know. I've figured some things out. And I know how I feel about certain stuff. I'm still not good at talking about how I feel - writing is one thing but verbalizing is another. I think maybe that's because I feel like if I put feelings into words and confide them in another person then that means they are real. That means I am vulnerable. That means that people can hurt me. And that is terrifying.
I'm scared to hear answers that I don't want to hear. I'm scared to have discussions that I don't want to have. I'm scared to make decisions that I don't want to make. I'm worried that the hard thing and the right thing might be the same - and I don't really want to choose either one. In my mind things are black and white and I can either make this decision for that result or I can make that decision for this result. Often I forget the grey areas and I always expect the worst possible outcome.
Seriously you guys, it gives me stomach aches.
I suppose that's why I resort to putting up walls and stuffing my feelings down deep inside. I'm afraid to feel things because I could be wrong, or I could be the only one, or I could be crazy. I hesitate to ask the tough questions because I'm not sure I want to know the answers. Part of me wishes I could just run away. Far away. Leave everything behind, buy a ticket and just go.
I never thought that growing up would be this messy. It never occurred to me that it would be difficult - you know? People grow up all the time, I thought, how hard can it be? And really, on the positive side of this I know I can do it and that I will be just fine. One day I'll be happy again and all this stuff will be a memory. One day I'll fly again, but for now I'm still cleaning my feathers.
I spend a lot of time wondering what God is doing with me. Why am I here? What's the point? And I suppose that if I stop to really listen, and give it plenty of time, then I'll be able to figure it out. I guess I didn't realize that when I chose courage as my word of the year I would really be putting that into some serious play because I can tell that in the near future that word is going to be a prominent fixture in my life.