It feels like I’ve been walking through a battlefield, a straight up battle, the last several months where I’ve had to face and fight my way in and around and out of some of the darkest moments I’ve ever felt.  And although, I’ve faced hard moments in the past, in a weird way, these past few months have felt harder. Not more painful necessarily, but almost harder to grasp and more, more alone, more me being in my own mess of self…does that make sense? Maybe it doesn’t need to.

And then I fight them all over again, every day, any day they pop up.  Some of the faces of these hard moments have been feelings of (all with some kind of adjective such as crippling, severe, etc.…in front of it) anxiety, loneliness, worthlessness, fear, sadness, undeserving, not good enough, too much, regret, and a few doses of ‘what’s wrong with me?’ and ‘why can’t I be normal?’ Talk about being exhausted.

Now, after a very long, long fall/winter with some of these feelings still lagging in toe, but fighting my feelings with the truth (God’s word), I can see some buds of new hope and promise beginning to spring forward into what I can only hope will be the season of blessing and beauty for ashes my soul is so desperately longing for.

I have no concrete evidence that this will be the season for some of the beauty I’m longing for, other than the renewed hope I feel, hope that I’ve long ago put aside, because, well because it just fell away after, everything, little by little started to seem so hopeless again.  But, God has been working with me, and in me again, feeding me and showing me that I can hope in him—in Jesus.  Hope is such a powerful and needed thing.  I used to pride myself on it.  I always had it, always.  Even if I lost everything else and was bummed out because x,y, and z wasn’t going my way, at least I had hope that this or that would happen.  I lost hope for the first time around three years ago and it was the very first time I’ve ever experienced living in its absence.  Thankfully, God swooped in and it didn’t last that long. The pain and heartache existed before and after, but the black hole that is hopelessness didn’t stick around too long.  It only lasted a week or two, but it was the worst week or two I had experienced.  I was never without hope before that, so I didn’t know what it was like to not have it.  I didn’t know it was possible to not have it.  I never wanted to feel the crushing weight of that again.  But, I have.

Can you believe that now I have to fight to have and keep hope??  Me, who used to bubble over with the stuff and who used to walk around like it was just something to be taken for granted.  I have to fight tooth and nail to hold on to it now.  All because I lost it once.  Or is it because I put all the hope I had, which was a TON, into the wrong hands? Hands that let me down and hurt me instead of putting my hope solely in the hands of God?  But, the good news is, hope is alive again.  And not just hope in God and his goodness and what’s he’s going to do in my life.  But, hope for the possibility of love.

Anyway, these are the kinds of things God is showing me in my harder growing pains of this season that I very, very much would LOVE to be done with.   Another thing that God is showing me, and rather is reminding me of, is that my worth is in him…in him alone.  It’s not in the fact that I’ve been struggling so badly with finding permanent employment again after nearly a year (that was never the plan!).  It’s not in the fact that I’m struggling financially and feel worthless because I can’t afford to bless anyone with ANYTHING and feel undeserving of being on the receiving end because I can’t reciprocate.  It’s not in the fact that I still am at home with my parents.  (Maybe for now, I should try to seek the blessing in that even when it hurts and feels impossible.  Easier said than done when I’m in tears.) It’s not in the fact that I do not have a husband or a boyfriend to love/who loves me or share my life with.  It’s not in the fact that I do not have children, even though I may not have traditional desires there…or maybe I could one day…who knows.  It is not in the fact that I feel invisible to the world sometimes. None of that equates my worth, even if it FEELS like it does.

My worth is in God.  My worth is in God.  My worth is in God.  I feel like I need to write it on a chalkboard a hundred times like a first-grader. Do they even use chalkboards anymore?

None of this is easy to digest.  None of this is easy to walk through.  None of this has felt particularly good, though it’s beginning to.

I’m hopeful it will being to feel better.  I’m hopeful that just around the bend will be the blessings and sweet, sweet relief of a season of joy and beauty and peace.  And more laughter, please. If even for a while.


Social Media Woes

I’ve had a few reminders the past week or so of just how much I dislike social media or just how much it goes against the grain of my being. It didn’t always. I did it just like everyone else. I did it for about a decade and loved it when I first joined Facebook, way back when you had to be a college student and your college had to already be in their database to be accepted. Oh wait, do you remember Myspace? That was before Facebook. Was the ‘s’ capitalized? Remember how you could arrange your top 8 favorite ‘friends’ whenever you wanted to? Now that was fun. AOL IM’ing will after school will always be my favorite. People of a certain age will never know what dialing up, making a sandwich, thinking up cool away messages, and talking endlessly about your day to your friends who you just saw an hour ago using fonts like Comic Sans MS or Papyrus is like.

I come from that era. The late 90’s/early 00’s era right on the brink when there was still life without social media. Social media was talking about the latest T.G.I.F shows. Within this past week, I ran into a few friends from this time frame. One was one of my middle school best friends who now lives across the world, but is back here for a while temporarily. It was great to run into her. We were basically roommates during the summers and holidays. She mentioned that she tried to find me recently on Facebook but I’m not on there. She couldn’t find me on any social media except Pinterest so she followed me. (It’s the only one I like and it’s more of a creative/expressive outlet) I said I’m not on any social media, aside from Pinterest, of course. No big deal.

Ok, fast forward a whole twenty minutes later when I ran into another girl from the same time frame. We weren’t nearly as close, but still friendly. She proceeds to spill way too many personal…extremely personal details about her life, as some people tend to do…fast forward to social media… She and the other girl (or rather woman…we are all women not girls) were just talking because they had run into each other before seeing me and the one said she just saw me. Social media came up and they discussed how I’m not on it. This woman said to me they thought I had died or fell of the face of the earth because I was not on Facebook.

What a stupid conclusion to come to…or even to say. We are children of the 90’s. Born of the 80’s. We are closeted BSB and *NSync-er’s (or not in my case…I ❤ them forever), we existed and survived in a world before this ‘stuff’ was even thought of or popular. We didn’t have it in high school. Thank God for that! Why, to their logical or illogical brains would they think that a lack of a social media presence would equate to an individual being dead or irrelevant? UGH.

That’s not even the worst of my disdain for the social media frenzy right now. Here’s the kicker. It was the same day and I found out that another friend, who I’ll say used to be one of my best friends from that time frame and more recently, got engaged.  But she didn’t text me or call me. She didn’t tell me at all. I only know because it made it’s way through the grapevine of social media and I was told about it. Imagine the gut punch. I’ll just say it hurt to find out that way. To know I wasn’t on the right list…heck I wasn’t on any list… I wasn’t told at all. I was just told in passing.  I felt left out.  Left behind.  And then I saw her dad later on in the week and he told me again. I had to pretend to not know and act happy for him and not hurt that his daughter chose not to tell me.

Just because I’ve chosen to not be on social media doesn’t mean I think it’s all evil and terrible. Because it does have a place and a time. I understand what it’s for. I studied it in college…I get it…maybe that’s part of what I don’t like about it. It’s built to make you want more of it. I just wish it didn’t eliminate the way most people, as a whole, used to interact. Social media isn’t a substitute for real life conversation or invitation or communication. I think the same can be said for all technology.

Social media wins before human connection. I see it more and more every day. And it’s not necessarily social media, but even just a phone and texting someone else, or a simple need to be distracted instead of seeing the person in front of you…connecting. Human connection and intimacy. I don’t see it very often anymore and when I do it touches me, because it’s slipping away faster than we think it is. And I think society is okay with that. Or at least, it seems that way. There’s a generation of people being raised, and who have been raised already, to interact better with a device than with another person. That is scary to me.




It’s that time of year when the world falls in love, every song you hear seems to say Merry…oh wait.  That was last week.  Thank you, baby Jesus for being born, but thank you that Christmas is over!

No, now it’s that time of year when one begins the painful, or possibly not so painful, introspective task of self-examination of where they are in life and what did and did not happen during the previous year, and more importantly, what they’d like to see happen in the coming new year.  It’s as if we think if we believe enough, hope enough, pray enough, or simply work hard enough that the coming year will be the year to finally unveil what the previous year forgot to drop off.

Then there’s a thing called God’s timing and such.  But doesn’t he realize what year he was supposed to deliver the nicely packaged life on a silver platter wrapped in a shiny red ribbon complete with a good guy who may or may not have long hair (he he) and sparkling eyes who won’t trade me in when he gets bored or change his mind at the drop of a dime, but only has eyes for me, and maybe a new kitten to boot? Or a 9-5 kind of job that doesn’t kill the creative spirit inside me but instead cultivates it and feeds it and allows it to live and breathe and play, oh and pays me enough to afford a life of my own.  I know there’s gotta be something I can do with some creative elements to it.  Even if the whole job isn’t a ‘creative’ job.  I just cannot stare at a computer screen all day or scan stacks of papers all day or look at numbers or medical records for 8 hours a day or do other non-creative things all day, every day anymore! Oh and to travel.  Oh to travel and explore and not be held back by finances (I’m not even talking about traveling like a rich person; just a regular, normal person) or loneliness and fear of traveling alone.

I’m not sure how it works.  I think, at one point, I may have been naive enough to think I knew how it all worked.  But I really don’t know how it all works when it comes to life unveiling itself, especially when we put so much pressure on it with all this New Year’s celebration stuff.  Or any kind of pressure at all.

Sometimes, it’s hard to truly believe for believing’s sake, but I do believe God has beautiful things ahead for me in life, but I’m done pretending I know what they are or when they’re coming.  They could come the day before I die for all I know.  Alanis Morisette’s Ironic is playing in my head right now.  For all I know 2019 will hold more beauty than I can handle, and I really, really hope it does.  Really.  I pray it’s true.  I’m aware of my cynical tone, but life has its ways, here and there, of making the unnaturally cynical become naturally cynical along its path.  I guess the key is to not let all the cynicism, in the superficial attempt at protecting it, root itself too deeply in the heart, or poison the mind or outlook on life too much.  What can I say.  It’s a work in progress.  A deeply personal and ever-changing work in progress.

I think more than the rest, the most imporant gift in 2019 would be getting back to a healthy version of myself.  Regular migraines have become chronic migraines mixed with, what I’m assuming to be, pinched neck nerves and a lack of energy have left me feeling like a zombie.  A good day; a pain-free day comes once, maybe two or three days a week.  Most other days are spent teetering the fine line between okay and one more noise, ray of light, etc is going to make my head explode.  I feel like half the person I used to be…only several months ago.  Sometimes I feel like less.  But, that is a post for another time.

Joking and cynicism aside, 2018 allowed me the chance to write a big chunk of something.  It’s not a complete something yet, but it’s getting there.  It’s on its way to becoming something more.  It’s something I felt God leading me to do and something I long wanted to do and long played around with.  It was something I knew in 2017 that I wanted to finally do in 2018 and I did it, mostly, and will continue to work on in 2019.

I also saw some awesome bands/performers in 2018.  I saw Chris Tomlin, 30 Seconds to Mars(Jared Leto), Foo Fighters, The Struts, Justin Timberlake…so pretty cool.  I had to wear ear plugs for all of them as I’m audibly challeneged and incredibly sensitive to noise levels, but let’s be real.  The noise levels at theses shows are dangerously and overwhelmingly way too loud, but for me, I’m unable to be there without ear plugs or I’d probably pass out or something. Luckily, these shows were before migraines ramped up and started attacking me.  I wouldn’t be able to attend any of these now, so I’m thankful I was able to go when I did. 

Anyway–wrapping up…New Year’s Eve has always filled me with a bit of saddness to say goodbye to another year.  I am a little bit sad because it is New Year’s Eve, but not to say goodbye to this year.  I’m ready.  I so badly want the goodness that I hope 2019 brings.  

Here’s to a hopefully much healthier and much happier new year for anyone who may happen to be reading this.  (Even if nobody at all…it helps me to get my own thoughts down.)

A little bit of stress relief…

It’s been a while since I’ve written here.  Over four months, actually.  Part of me wants to come down on myself and say I failed at this blog or writing because of that.  I know that’s not true.  I only started this as a way to get back into writing.  And I did.  Though, I haven’t written at all in at least a month and a half.  Here comes that little voice telling me I’ve failed because of that, too.  I know that’s not true, as well.  Even if I’ve been on hiatus-intentional or not, I’ve still written over 300 pages of a book.  Some of those pages came from the very core of me.  Some of them feel forced.  Some of them are funny.  Some are sad.  Some of them make my heart bounce around in my rib cage and yearn for something I’ll never have again.  Some of them suck and a lot of those pages will probably need rewritten.  But, I wrote them.  Good or bad.  I focused long enough to produce a few hundred pages of something.  I’ve never done that before.

I guess I need to realize that even though they’re not perfect, they’re proof that I’m trying.  They’re proof that I’m not stuck in my life, because truth be told; I feel stuck in my life.  I’m not sure if I really am (even though, let’s face it, I’m not exactly happy at this moment in my life about ‘life’) or if I’m just impatient and my impatience coupled with my ever-increasing anxiety makes me feel like my life needs to take off.  And take off now.

I don’t know why I needed to write this tonight.  Except maybe this.  At work today, a brand new (temporary) job of only three weeks, I cried in the bathroom.  It’s too early for that.  I’ve done it at every job.  But, this job is different.  It’s in a hospital.  It has nothing to do with medicine or saving lives…it’s in an office.  But still, it’s in a hospital.  I hate hospitals.  I hate them.  Yesterday, when I left, there was a family outside the emergency room and most members were crying.  I knew in my gut someone died or was dying.  I felt sick.  I felt sad.  I felt their pain.  Today, a woman in the office mentioned that a woman had passed away in the emergency room yesterday.  I don’t usually suffer from anxiety attacks, but I did today.  Luckily nobody saw me, but I had to go to the bathroom before they did.  I was overcome with sadness for that family I saw yesterday and for the woman who passed.  I was sad and anxious and shaking.  I was instantly sick to my stomach.  Also, I kept thinking of my mom and all the times she’s been in that very emergency room.  She’s fine, thank God, but the feelings were still the same.  I don’t belong in a hospital.  Most who know me would probably agree.  I’m weird to begin with about many things, but add death and sadness to it and I just do not belong. Not to mention, they announce ‘code blue’ and other emergencies over the loud speakers and every time they do, I feel sick.

Anyway, I’m not sure how my day at work lead to me needing to write a blog post again after four months of not posting anything.  Maybe, if nothing else, it’s just a way to relieve some of the anxiety and stress.  Maybe it’s just a way to talk into the open void.

I’m hoping to get a new job very soon.  And, hoping to get my head back into writing my book.

Thirty Seconds to Joy

(I know that’s not a great picture, but it’s the best one I have taken with a bad phone camera and limited view.)

I went to see Thirty Seconds to Mars last night. It’s my second time. I saw them last summer and luckily, they came to Pittsburgh again last night. I loved it. I loved watching Jared Leto dance around, sometimes while twirling the American flag, wearing yellow rain gear and looking like a fisherman. His unique brand of whimsy makes me smile so much. I smiled a lot. Big smiles. Genuine smiles. Smiles that made my face shine. Smiles that weren’t covering up anything. I sang my heart out with him. I sang to some of my favorite songs of theirs and forcefully sang some lyrics that spoke to a place deep inside of me that needs freedom and healing. Music can be so healing, so heart-opening, so cleansing.

It was a night; a moment, that while I was living it, I knew I would miss immediately when it was over. I was very much present and, in the moment, (which doesn’t happen too often), but I had fleeting thoughts of knowing I would soon miss those very moments and how I felt in them.

Oddly, I learned/realized a few things last night. I didn’t go looking to learn anything, but here they are…

    1. I desperately need more moments where I feel alive. I don’t mean moments where I’m breathing and I’m aware that I’m breathing. I’m talking about moments where I’m fully engaged with life and I’m so happy to be alive because being alive is better than I ever imagined it would be. Last night was one such moment. I don’t have these ‘alive’ moments or encounters often. It’s sad really. Life is hard and can be mundane and stagnant. It can hurt and make you just survive and forget about ‘living’. I was thrilled to be alive last night and get to experience one of my favorite bands and all around whimsical and wacky character, Jared Leto. I’m incredibly grateful for that. I’m also incredibly sad that I don’t have more moments that thrill me. That shake me-in a good way. Moments that make me so happy and full of joy that I can’t imagine anything else.
    2. Life is meant to be ENJOYED and LIVED. This kind of piggy backs on my first point but is also in need of its own point. Life is meant to be enjoyed. Life is meant to be lived. As I said, it’s also hard and can hurt and blah, blah, blah, but I’m so sick to death of all of that. I want to enjoy living. Enjoying the day to day little moments in life is important and good, but I’m talking the ‘big stuff’. I want the ‘big stuff’. Or just some more moments of singing my heart out and dancing unabashedly along with one of my favorite musicians. I want to have a dance party with him.
    3. While introducing their newest song, “Rescue Me”, Jared talked about things like anxiety and depression and all the other mental or emotional pains we all endure. He was adamant about removing the stigma and shame attached to these things. It was a moment that resonated with me. It was a sweet moment as he brought up as many little kids on stage that would fit and had them dance with him as he sang. I choked up. No, I don’t know Jared and he doesn’t know me, but for one moment he was saying to me (and others) that he hears me and sees me. That he cares. And that he too, has felt it. In its own way, it was a powerful moment. I’ve been struggling the past week or two in every way possible. Mentally, emotionally and now physically with a cold that thanks to last night may be getting worse (but so worth it). It was powerful to just realize I’m not alone in any of the pain or struggle I feel or may put myself through. Go ahead and watch the video.

  1. I would have Jared Leto’s children if he wanted me to. And who wouldn’t, right? He’s a few years shy of 50, but who cares? Nothing about him says so other than his birth certificate. Not his personality, his face, his body, his whimsy. I’m not really a baby kind of person. My clock doesn’t tick and that’s okay. But seeing him interact so sweetly with those kids and making them comfortable on stage and hearing his compassion toward people and all the pain we all face as individuals and a community did something to me that rarely, if ever, happens. I’m serious…I’m not this “normal” kind of woman who feigns over kids or anything (not that I don’t have kids in my life whom I love), but I’d step up to the plate for him. Extra innings too. Don’t worry. I won’t embark on some kind of well thought out plan to make this happen. Ha! If only, right! I’m simply stating the facts here.

My wonderful night of joy and freedom I had is over. I’m sad. I’m beyond happy that I was able to experience the rainbow of lights-such beautiful lights, the thumping in my chest from the beat of the incredibly loud music (I had to put in an ear plug to save my previously broken ear drum from breaking again), some of my favorite songs-songs that speak to the need in me to live and be free, Jared in a fisherman’s outfit dancing like a child. Love it. Love it all. But, it’s over. I’m back to reality. A reality I need to somehow get moving in the direction of more moments of pure joy and aliveness.

God, help me!

The truth is…

Well, it’s unofficially official. Summer is here. The unofficial start has come. It’s hot, humid, and beautiful. Boaters are boating. Families are camping. Couples are enjoying anything…it doesn’t really matter. Kids are laughing and playing. Dogs are running. Cats are purring. The days are long and hot. The nights are lazy and full of hope. The kind of hope that makes you believe the moon is hanging on your every word and anything is possible.

It’s only the beginning of my favorite season, so please excuse me my impatience, but I am not doing any of that. And I have all the time in the world to be doing it, too. Funny how life works, isn’t it? It seems to be that if we have the money then we don’t have the time. If we don’t have the time, then we probably have the money. Well, I have some of both and yet, here I am. Alone. It doesn’t ever really matter to me what I’m doing, it’s who I’m doing it with. Most anything can be fun or exciting or full of hope if it’s spent with someone you enjoy.

Truth is, I feel lonely and caught in a cycle of aloneness that, much like a hamster wheel, keeps going around and round and round. I don’t know what to do to. I try to get out, but the wheel catches my ankle and round and round I go again. I really do have a lot to be grateful for and even be hopeful about. But the fact remains that I don’t have that one person or two to share my life with. Yes, it would be great to have that in the romantical sense, but I’d be happy with the simple companionship of a close friend. I have friends, but they have actual lives and families that fill up their days. And that’s okay. I just wish I did too. I’m the single woman who can’t quite find a home…so to say.

It can make me sad. I have more time on my hands now that I’m not at work, even though I do have plans to be productive. Today was only the first day, aside from the long weekend, that I’ve been off (so again, bear with me about my impatience). It was a little bit weird. I miss interacting with so many of the people. I miss saying hi and hearing about their weekends. I miss laughing. I miss seeing a friendly face as I get my first cup of coffee in the morning.  I just miss them.  Some of them I really miss.  Do I miss my job? HA-not a chance. I’m on the right path for me right now. I just wish I had a buddy or two to pal around with. Part of me gets it, though. I’m not in high school or college anymore. Days spent exploring or just hanging around are over. I get it. But, it makes these long summer days even longer and these nights a little less magical.

I don’t have a significant other or any children. I’m okay with not having children. Luckily, I don’t have to add a ticking biological clock to the list. But, I would love to have the guy. However, I do have a 19-year-old cat and who knows how much longer she’ll be around. I am lonely. I crave human intimacy. I crave connection and companionship. I really do enjoy alone time and solitude, but too much of it isn’t good.  It leads to feeling lonely for someone to share my time with. Sometimes I’m scared the loneliness will turn into a forever kind of loneliness.

This is how I feel. And it sucks. It’s not fun to feel like I’m being passed by in life or that it’s my fault. It feels like the older I get, the more I seem to disappear. At least that’s what it feels like. I’d say I’m fairly attractive. I tend to make people laugh. I have an adventurous side but am also a homebody. The two sides fight sometimes. I’m a great listener and always try to make somebody feel special. It’s hard to be alone, in any capacity, when I don’t want to be. It’s hard to feel so lonely so much.

This is how I feel. The truth, however, is different.

I’ve learned the truth is that no matter how lonely I feel, God is here to comfort me. He knows how much it hurts. How much I hurt. He knows. He knows sometimes, some days, I feel invisible to the world. But He sees me. He is here. And because he is here, I am not alone, no matter how much it may feel like I am. It’s hard to grasp, because even though God is here with me tonight and all the time, he’s not a physical being and therefore I can’t see him or touch him or have a mutual, two-way human conversation with him. If I look around this room, I am alone; it’s true. But, God is here. He promises that I am never alone because He is always with me. He is working for me right now. Right this second. He is working on my prayers. He is working on the next steps for me. He is working on providing me with what I need. He is working. All day, every day. All night, every night. He never sleeps. He never gives up. He never gets tired. He loves me more than I can imagine or even think about. He loves me. He is here with me, right now, as I type this. He is here. Sometimes, I wish I could reach out and give him a hug because I could really use one. I just don’t get enough hugs.

Even now, my heart hurts at the reality of that. But, God is with me. He will comfort me and help me. He will provide for me. He will bring me what is mine and give me beauty for all these ashes that keep hanging around. He will. This is what’s true.

Sometimes, it’s hard for me to separate what I’m feeling from what is true. I feel lonely. I feel alone. But, God is with me. He cares so much about me. That is what is true. I do wish I knew when to expect his plans and the answers to my prayers…but, I don’t. And so, I keep waiting.

Sometimes, I feel strong enough in God that I’m okay. Sometimes, I’m not lonely at all.

The face I can’t forget

When does a broken heart stop being broken? How many times does it take for the heart to break and re-break again until it simply can’t break anymore? How long does it take a heart to beat normally again? When does it stop? Any of it? How many terrible, boring or wrong dates does someone endure until they find someone who stops them in their tracks just the same, if not better than the one who came before? How many bad days does it take until they never come again? How do you live in the same town as the person you can’t forget? I’m always searching for that face, whether I’m aware that I am or not. I’m always scanning the crowd and never see it. But, I wasn’t scanning the crowd today and there it was. The face I’ll never forget. With her. Hurt, rage, love, fear, and panic all raced inside of me in a matter of 3 seconds. He stopped and saw me too. Kill me, please.

I wanted this moment for so long. Now that it was here, any words I had rehearsed or thought I’d say all fell to the floor with my poor, barely beating, bloody heart that just wanted to die right there where it lay. Seriously.  I didn’t even have my hair done.

I calmly (on the outside) found the nearest aisle to duck into and went to my car to cry in private.

Where’s the Hallmark movie crew when you need them? This scene desperately needed a rewrite.

What am I supposed to do with that? With any of it? How does it ever really get better? There are plenty of good days, but the feelings never actually go anywhere. They just live dormant on the inside of me because that’s all I can do. I can’t act on them. I can’t do a damn thing about it except let it be and take it to God every time it hurts or every time I can’t quit thinking about him. How can a heart just stop wanting who it wants despite the beating and the B.S. it’s sustained? How do you tell your heart that what it wants doesn’t want you? It’s a tragic and simply sad reality.

What can I do? Find someone new?

There is a guy at work who I enjoy and who lightens my spirit when I’m around him. He’s the only guy that’s made me forget the face I can’t forget. Did I mention he has a girlfriend or maybe even fiancé now? What kind of sick and twisted game is that? It’s not as easy as finding someone new or someone who makes you forget the unforgettable. It’s just not. The reality is, or my reality is that any guy I’ve met makes me feel absolutely nothing and makes me think even more about who I shouldn’t be thinking about. Oh, except for the guy at work…who is taken. He makes me smile and laugh and I’ve started to care about him. As much as I can hope it could work, it won’t. He’s taken and probably has never given me a second thought. Except for when he gave me chocolates for Christmas. But beside that, I’m basically a field mouse. Kind of cute to look at but really, just unwanted.

In my ideal world, I’d be happily married to the stupid but beautiful face I can’t forget, and I’d never have any need to ever find someone new, but here in the real world, my ideal isn’t happening.

So, when does it end? Is this a cross I’ll bear the rest of my life? There are worse crosses, I guess. But, in the meantime—what am I supposed to do?

Let’s just say it’s low-blood sugar

I’m trying to be open and share vulnerably. If I’m ever going to be a ‘real’ writer, then I should probably get used to doing this.

I’m struggling to not be lonely today. I have an empty house and all the quiet and free time and space I want. Usually, I’d be thrilled. Most days, I’m perfectly content with this kind of freedom because it seldom comes, and I love when it does. However, today, my wide-open day for one has me feeling lonely for companionship. Just one other person to connect with, laugh with, enjoy this day with. It makes me sad to think how hard that is to come by and how much harder it’s getting. Don’t get me wrong, when I’m around too many people I do get overwhelmed easily, so these kinds of days are a nice respite. I don’t know why loneliness decided to rear its stupid head. I’m lucky in a way, because most days I love a lot of quiet, down time. Most days, I relish the idea of alone time and it’s a good thing because I tend to have too much of it. But today…what is it about today? It’s not a ‘special’ day and there’s no ‘special’ memories attached to it. I was up early and done with all my errands by 11:30am. I’m waiting for my lunch of chicken fries and sweet potato fries to be done so I can eat. Maybe once my blood sugar raises, I’ll feel less lonely? That could be a symptom of hunger, right? I still have a few things to do around the house, and I’m grateful to have the time, but as I think about the rest of the day, I just see a hole of aloneness…not solitude. There’s a difference. It’s not about going out and being around people. I did that today. I guess I feel like I’m just missing something I don’t have. Like I’m missing out on a piece of life I want but don’t have…but get to watch a lot of other people have. More specially, I also hate to admit how much I do want the blessing (or hindrance, I don’t know) of a husband. I do not want to be married right now, but I think it would be cool to see that kind of possibility in someone or just to be enjoying the person. Part of me really does believe I’m fine on my own. Sure, I have lonely days and always will, but that’s normal. As much as I think I would be content on my own, there’s this other part that won’t shut up. I hate that part. It’s a perfectly normal thing to want ones’ other half, so to speak, so I’m not too sure why I hate that I want it. Maybe because pretending to hate it or deny it is somehow easier than admitting loneliness and my human weakness…haha. Or possibly, just because I want it doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. We don’t always get what we want. I have tried to pray this desire away for years and guess what…still here. So, maybe it’s all waiting for me. And that’s great. I’m excited for that. It would be cool if it was waiting for me around the corner…hopefully it’s around the next few corners and not still a giant corn maze away. We’ll see. Whatever. It’s fine. I’m fine. I just have to push through this nagging, momentary jerk of an emotion. And eat my lunch. Yeah that’s it. Now that I’ve awkwardly shared all of this I’m pretty sure this is a low-blood sugar thing 😝

(UPDATE: Now that I’ve eaten AND written all this out, I do feel better. I think I need a nap or some Parks and Rec to re-calibrate myself.)

Tomorrow is Monday

Tomorrow is Monday. I don’t’ want to dread that, but I am. I want to get to a point in my life where Monday’s naturally incite joy and not weariness. I think I’m on my way to getting there. I’m on my way to grasping and understanding the value of my own thoughts and words. Our thoughts and words hold power. They have the power to help us get in the right frame of mind or the wrong frame of mind. For me, often, I tend to naturally form the wrong frame of mind. I do have my moments of pure optimism and positivity, but they seem to be too far and in-between anymore.

No matter how I feel or what any given situation looks like, the reality is, God is at work whether I feel it or not. He is moving in ways I will thank Him for later. Or thank Him for now. He’s moving pieces around for my good. Pieces I can’t see. Some pieces I can see. I’m getting to a point where I don’t have to talk myself into believing it anymore, because I do believe it. Thinking the right kind of thoughts and believing that God’s hand is at work in my life doesn’t always make the in-between times easier, but I think it can if I allow it to.

I have hopes and dreams for my future Mondays that don’t involve a cubicle, a corporate job, or dread. I hope to write a book or maybe two. I want to create a space where I can not only become creatively and financially satisfied and successful, but I want to reach the heart and soul of people as well. I hope to inspire, to empathize, to encourage. I hope to make people laugh and make people think. I hope to relay messages that showcase Jesus and grace and goodness. I hope to work in music. I hope to one day write a song or two or three or as many as I can. I hope those songs will be heard and enjoyed. I hope to travel to here and I hope to travel to there. I hope to see the Eiffel Tower sparkle at night. And when I come home, I hope to own a little piece of land to live on with a few baby goats, dogs, and cats where I can’t hear my neighbors and can barely see them.

Tomorrow is Monday. Will I let these hopeful thoughts and dreams die their natural death because I am not actually living them, or will I let these hopes fuel me, knowing I’m one day closer to them—or to whatever God has in store for me?

Journey to Meaning: Day 1

I have brought you glory on earth by completing the work you gave me to do.” John 17:4

Jesus spoke these words to God the night before He was killed. Reading them struck me in the heart. And in my soul. And in my spirit. I want to be able to say these words to God when I’m near the end of my life. I want to know, yes, I completed the work God gave me to do. So far, I have not come close to fulfilling the dreams, desires, and passions that God has placed on my heart. Not even close. It’s a heavy weight on my entire being-my mind, body and soul knowing this.

If I die tomorrow, I’d die with a heart full of sadness and regret that I wasted my time.  I have spent so much time doing things and working in jobs that don’t align with my heart or my spirit. I have spent so much time doing monotonous, soul-draining jobs that don’t feed my soul or anyone else’s for that matter. I’m not okay with that. I’m incredibly saddened by it. It can be a hopeless place to be–knowing I spend so much of my time doing work that is not meant for me. I have words and ideas and dreams and worlds inside me that want to come out. That want to be expressed. That are crying to come to life. I want to say to God one day, without question, that I completed the work He gave me to do.

Scanning thousands of papers a week is NOT what He’s given me to do…at least long term. I don’t use my brain. I don’t really think. I don’t use my creativity or my imagination. I simply rotate, much like a robot, between one task or another every day. One day looks just like the one before it and the one tomorrow.  I need more.  Has my current job served its purpose? Yes, I believe it has. I needed full-time employment and more money. It has given me a place to go and a purpose for each day in a time when I just needed to put one foot in front of the other. It’s given me some great coworkers, some who have become friends, that I get to see more than my family. It’s also turned out to be one of the unhealthiest environments I’ve ever worked in. I dread getting up every morning to go into work and then I dread going to bed because I know I have to get up and go through the cycle again the next day; until Friday.  Oh, Friday.  What a glorious day Friday is; especially at 4:30pm when I can forget about all of the anxiety and nagging feeling that I’m wasting my life and breathe again.  I have been getting more migraines than is usual for me to get. Sometimes, I cry. Sometimes, I cry again. The job itself is not for me. But the environment has corroded. It was slow to start and has gained speed.  It’s increasingly unhealthy and I’m done trying to emit any form of positivity or light into it. I don’t have any more energy to try to care about making it a better place to be. I’m simply done.

I’m tired of work that is not for me. I’m tired of work that a well-trained monkey could perform without any issues. I’m tired of feeling overwhelmed and under-valued. I’m tired of hostility and secrets and whispering. I’m tired of power trips and laziness. I’m tired of arrogance and sadness. I’m just tired of it. I’ve learned I have limited energy. I think to some degree, we all do, but my personality seems to have less than most—or maybe I just need to align with what God has for me and my energy levels will balance out again. I don’t know. But, I do know I’m tired of burning my energy trying to force myself through a day where I don’t feel I matter or what I do matters. I’m tired of coming home and being so exhausted from running a race that isn’t mine to run and having no energy or motivation left over to do something fun or meaningful or exciting. I crave quiet. I crave peace. I crave solitude. My world feels so overrun with static and noise that makes me unhappy and unfulfilled that I just want to come home and shut it off. Some days, I don’t have the energy to really live my life…but just to exist in it. I burn out far too easily any more. That’s not what I want. I don’t think it’s what God wants either.

It’s time to change it up. It’s time to really do some future-minded thinking and make some changes that will open my world instead making me want to shut it off.

I’m starting this blog as a small step in the right direction as an attempt to jumpstart the girl inside me who just wants some meaning and purpose and enjoyment in her daily life again. I hope you enjoy…