A reality check

I have not been myself lately. For the past semester I have found it hard to be passionate, rested, and driven. And I know that sometimes when there is just nothing you can do to fix that hole God will step in....and last night God really opened my eyes. I was sitting in my room at midnight, about to take my medicine and go to bed when one of my dearest friends walked in my room, her mascara was smeared across her face and I could tell that her heart was hurting. She came in to get paint....but I just had to ask her what was wrong. She broke down right in front of me....told me that the guy she had been casually dating...in all the wrong ways, left at 11:00pm to get his backpack. At 11:45 she got a text message asking her to let let him into room 213....his own room. He was hauled into the room by two of his buddies...they said they found him in the stairwell, and they left him with her. She watched him...rock back and forth....not speaking. He left with his shirt on looking for his backpack....he came back shirtless....no backpack. She watched him and she waited for him to speak....but he was not home. He left as our friend, he came back a shell of a man. She looked into his eyes and she told me, "He was not home anymore". As she continued to tell me his symptoms....she told me she searched his phone for numbers to call for help. What she found broke her heart....that the one she had been involved with was not just involved with her. It was vulgar...abrasive....crass. And she was so so broken. But her first and foremost concern was that when she left him he would not wake up. He couldn't even stand....or talk. We argued for hours about whether to call for help...and when we finally did Will was unshakeable. We checked his heart rate. We checked his breathing....but Will wouldn't wake up no matter how hard we tried. We waited impatiently for our RD to call the ambulance. When we finally saw the flashing blue and red lights out of my dorm room window...we quickly put on shoes and got ready to go to the hospital. We got on the elevator and were met by a stretcher....carrying a very, very sick unconscious boy. It was so disturbing to see him....so gone and so destroyed. And as I was holding my poor, distraught Hannah....I remembered....why I was in school....why I was called to help addicts....because that boy will never be the same.
             We sat in the waiting room until 5am when they finally told us that they believed he had taken some sort of morhpine, probably with alcohol. He would be asleep anywhere from 4 to 12 hours. But he was going to make it.
             I realize that Will will never be the same. And that he might continue using...and because of that I know....I will never be the same either. Neither will Hannah. Because our lives have been changed under the worse conditions....for the better.
            "Passion, it lies in all of us, sleeping...waiting...and through unwanted...unbidden...it will stir...open its jaws and howl." -Joss Whedon

Ponderings....

Sometimes I wonder....if the person I'm always fighting, is actually the person I naturally am. I wonder if the expectations I have for myself are realistic and necessary. I mean...if I'm going to be honest I will say that I have been sucked into everything I don't believe in. And at the same time, I have little desire to fight it anymore, I have little fight left to battle the rebellion inside of me that wants to just destroy my life and forget about it. And I know this is supposed to be a natural process in growing up....But for me it's kind of like watching a  movie...seeing myself do everything I fight, and as I do all of these things, forgetting where I am or what I'm doing....I'm reacting and telling myself, " What in the world are you doing?"....but still going farther....telling myself more is better.

Twelve Steps She Never Took

  I saw her. Sitting on the corner of 5th and James. My eyes met hers and I saw her.....fully clothed, yet completely naked. Desolate and drained of any possible remaining piece of hope. They called her worthless....she believed it. Her body; brazen and bruised was broken in such a way that no man alone could have made her like this. Remnants of what used to be her bright blue eyes sparkle out of sunken in eye sockets, purple and black.
   She wring her hands in contemplation,"What a mine field!, is my mind, filled with thoughts of temporary release and hope that soon these thoughts will cease".  She sits on the sidewalk. I can see her body...contorted with anguish over what seems to be a hopeless struggle. Her muscles are rigid, as the intensity of her addiction sits heavily on her shoulders, her chest heaving and gasping for just one unrestricted breath. From her hollow eyes streams one continuous tear of numbness.
    I can see her, as hundreds of people have, all. day. long. She says nothing and I hear her screams. She makes no movement, I see her running, fleeing, flinching, under the weight of so many endless nights. She pulls away, but I see her reaching. Searching.
   How many times will we pass her. How many times will we say, "She's really screwed up." How many this, how many that . She could help herself if she wanted help, she wastes her money on drugs, she runs from things that law enforcement could take care of. But.....but.....also.....How many people will we kill before we realize....Our indifference towards her pain is just as bad as injecting the heroine for her. 
  And all the others like her will keep our arrogance in mind. We are the track marks on her arms. We are the bottle in his hands. We are the gashes across the wrists, the light to the crack pipe, the seal on the label, the needle, the gun.  We are....the twelve steps she never took. Thank yourself, for the help you never offered.

Uncomfortable

Today I cannot handle my own. My heart feels as though it's constantly on the verge of exploding from my chest in all it's gruesomeness. I can feel the extremity in my lungs. Logically, I know it's okay to feel this way. Physiologically, I am completely out of control. My body is screaming at me to do something destructive. My mind is screaming, you're one step away from "good". But that's just it.....I'm always just one step away. Never actually there. I feel like I'm on the edge, I'm always on the edge. The thing is...sometimes I don't know which direction is the right one....step off the edge? or run away..... I feel like I'm stuck in a perpetual state of anxiety, there's always something that needs to be done. It's easier to free-fall into the unknown, than to run into the uncomfortable. But what if.....what if there's something on the other side of the uncomfortable...on the other side of this wall holding me back from "good" and "okay".

When everything's made to be broken....I just want you to know who I am.

I'm starting to realize now that the more often people in your life leave, the easier it gets to let them go. After a while....I'm finally realizing that if someone wants to go, there's no use in holding on to them. Better to let go easily, then to tear and rip. I like to dream about not having to gain and lose. I suppose I'd still be the same person I was 5 years ago if that were the case. "Before I run far away, I need to take a holiday. Maybe it's a fall from grace, I gotta find a new place....a holiday. I'll set off on a new chase. I gotta see a new face. I need to take a holiday." ~Boys Like Girls I know....a lot of time I run from hurt. I know, this is me wimping out. I guess I just have to hope someday I gain some sort of new courage that can't be destroyed by people. If there is such a thing.

Invictus

OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance	5
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,	10
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:	15
I am the captain of my soul.

 
                                                      ~William Ernest Henley

Call me a liar: that's what I am.

Have you ever been so anxious and disconcerted that you just feel like your insides are going to rip out of your body and your heart is going to beat out of your chest? How about this....ever stopped in the middle of something you were doing and realized how incredibly out of place you are? Then comes the sick feeling....the "Oh, I really screwed up" realization. The, "I can't play this off anymore, I can't run any farther" determination. Stuck between a rock and a hard place. That's where I am right now. I know no one's going to read this. So I can actually write something real.

As opposed to all things fake...which in reality, is life. People are fake. People talk trash. They cut down others because they're just that intelligent, they really have nothing else to talk about other than what they don't like about other people. So we sit for endless hours talking about nothing but the flaws of others. Cool , huh?

I can't keep doing what I'm doing. In my own way, I've created my own falseness. I know, in my own heart that I can't go out with my friends when they're doing certain things. I know I'm not strong enough to do that, and I have to quit pretending I am. I'm not really a rebellious cool kid, if really that's what you want to call them. I have a pretty fair share of " loser" friends too. And you know what? I really like my private Christian College, I chose to go there. I wasn't forced. I like....to worship and read my Bible, like a "holy roller" be it what it may.

I guess I'm realizing I need to come back to terms with what I used to be working towards, and stop pretending that certain things are okay, because they aren't. And if, from this day, I do not make an effort to be the best I can be...instead of accepting things, without acknowledging the consequences. Call me a liar. Because that's what I am.

When a she becomes a that...

  'I was nothing but an object in his eyes. An object of pleasure. Not a real person, who lived and breathed, and bled. Just a tool, a thing....a this used for that. He wouldn't look me in the eyes. He wouldn't kiss my lips. It was all for him.I abandoned my heart , and left my body. I watched my ship go down in flames. And there he was, strong and demanding. Persuasive and convincing. Heaven forbid that I would do what I did. Heaven forbid I stop him. No. It's against the rules to stop him before he's finished. Heaven forbid I come to my senses, out of my self-induced coma.

 Stripped of my dignity I awaken. His words cut deep into my soul, leaving scars that will forever be engraved in my heart. "You're not ready. Just don't call me upset later. Let me show you the door." There goes my worth....given to an ungrateful man.'

   "The problem is that "that" is actually a "she". A person. A  woman. With a name, a history, with feelings. It seems harmless until you're that girl- and then it hurts. It's degrading. It's violating. it does something to a person's soul."~Rob Bell

A woman....is a divine image no matter how used, beaten, or broken she may be. A divine image loved and cherished by God Himself. Dignity is restored. You are priceless. 

“Hell is yourself and the only redemption is when a person puts himself aside to feel deeply for another person.” -Tennessee Williams

I started this entry when I found out that a girl close to one of my family members had attempted suicide and been admitted to Greenleaf, a center for psychiatric and substance abuse treatment. I was thinking about how many people I've known that have either been in a rehab center, or a stress center, or been hospitalized for overdose and/or attempted suicide. It's a pretty significant number. A number far higher than I would really like.

I cannot figure out....how we miss this so much. We have so many answers, so many remedies, and yet we are still so ignorant towards the broken. It's almost as though it's a task to extend a little hope someone's way. Like it's to much effort to try and open someone's eyes to a life worth living. No offense but, what good are you to us if you are that conceited....or that busy....or that insignificant? There is a band called Atlantic that I have seen on tour multiple times, and on their tour bus they have the words, " We have the bread to feed the world, how dare we keep it to ourselves" inscribed around the entire thing.

We have so much knowledge, and so many resources. There's no way that everyone in this girl's life can say, "I didn't see any signs at all". I refuse to believe that. The problem is not the fact that she attempted suicide, it's the fact that no one tried to help her.

World Health Organization recently put out a statistic approximately 1 million people a year, will die from suicide. What are we doing here?

Unspoken

Things we should be told when we are young;


You can't run from anything, so consider that before all decisions.
People will always leave when you need them the most, you have to learn to turn pain into progression.
Boundaries can ruin a person.
Boundaries can save a person.
The way you decide to perceive the outcome of a situation can decide the outcome of a situation.

Snapshot: Staring into the face of love

"And the lies, they aim to name us. They whisper on repeat. They know our dreams, they know our fears. The stolen things, they steal us. Steal us from our families, steal our days." ~Jamie Tworkowsi




 Slut. No good whore. Druggie, Drunk. Used, torn, lifeless. Valuable. Fake, loser. Quitter. Disgusting. Low, useless, hypocrite. Touched. Dirty. Absolutely Worthless. 

 
   We let our pasts define us, even when we've claimed to have let it go. Instead of pursuing our identity as claimed and chosen, we let snapshots of the things of old tell us who we are. See, the thing is, a snapshot does not determine your value. It is what you did.....but it is not who you are, if you are in Christ. A lot of times, as humans, we think once we slip up the game is over. There are no second chances. I'm just now starting to realize that a lot of people have never been told....that's not how it works. We all slip up. And by nature we accept the names given to us, and we grasp the lies heard in our head better than anything else we've ever heard. They tell us it's not worth it, trying to live a good life, worthy of living. And we believe it, we believe the lies. We were not made to be perfect beings alone, but through Christ. And facing the lies doesn't go away when you give your past to Him. In fact, most people would say it gets harder. The difference is, you're not alone anymore....and every time you slip up or get tempted...you have the ability to say I am completely forgiven. I am chosen, and valuable. I am rooted in the face of Christ's unconditional love.

"A man, if you would even call him that, that God himself has turned His back upon."

I have no words to describe what I want to right now. Well, that's not true. I have three words...and a video. Identity. Lies. Truth.

 

What are you made of? Is you existence extraordinary? Or do you allow lies to define your worth.....

"A prayer for the wild at heart kept in cages."

     There's no easy way to say it, not even an easy way to portray the feeling. It's like you live to breathe, going through all the motions like a numb, lame, vegetable. The feeling of sheer helplessness. The feeling of undeniable brokenness. Every move you make is judged, every breath you take is measured. Never mess up, never screw up. Never disappoint, and never consider your own happiness or worth. Life will be good, as long as you're good in the eyes of others.
 
   So how do I tell you....that you aren't a disappointment? How can I convince you of this one sure thing; You were never a disappointment. You care, so much about others. It's who you are. And besides the already priceless value you hold in my heart, that fact is worth so much to me and others.
Your heart, that carries so much caution and consideration for the hearts of other people is rare. To say the least. It hurts and bleeds when others cry out. There's nothing I can say to ease your worry, or your concern, or to convince you that the weight of the the world shouldn't be on your shoulders. You are loved, and valued. Nothing you could ever say or do will make you unworthy, or disappointing. Because your heart is gold. And your worth is far more than that.
love drug; everything starts where it ends
anberlin; the unwinding cable car
zach williams; fears
andberlin; fin
The more I seek you; zach neese