"Grace is the light or electricity or juice or breeze that takes you from that isolated place and puts you with others who are as startled and embarrased and eventually grateful as you are to be there."
-Anne Lamott
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Breaking Point
I cannot handle the insanity in this house any longer.
I have tolerated and lived with it for too long.
I do not know what normal is...I just know normal doesn't involve living around guns and being afraid of someone or something dying because people can't deal with and get their personal crap together.
I want to wash my hands of this mess and remove myself a hundred thousand miles away.
It rips my heart apart because every time, every damn time I think I am getting to where it feels things are better...that maybe we can be a family...this crap has to happen and I have to be terrified.
I don't know how...some...can live like this, I cannot.
I refuse to.
If I do not remove myself I will die one way or the other.
I can't function under this extreme stress.
I just am so tired of crying.
I'm so tired of being so mad.
I'm sick of this, I'm sick to death of feeling more alone by the second.
Happiness is a fleeting lie that will never remain.
Human touch is a bigger lie, making promises of comfort that are more temporal and dissipate in seconds.
I can't believe in the lies of family, of friends and love...
It feels like the biggest lie is from Jesus about how all this...is supposed to be something bigger.
My faith is so weak and dying.
It flows, it tosses and turns with my emotions revealing how shallow and fragile I am.
I'm supposed to pretend I am made of stone, that nothing can shake me...but I cannot hold things up by myself...how to hold things up and keep doing this...keep maintaining anything worthwhile.
I'm...falling out.
I have tolerated and lived with it for too long.
I do not know what normal is...I just know normal doesn't involve living around guns and being afraid of someone or something dying because people can't deal with and get their personal crap together.
I want to wash my hands of this mess and remove myself a hundred thousand miles away.
It rips my heart apart because every time, every damn time I think I am getting to where it feels things are better...that maybe we can be a family...this crap has to happen and I have to be terrified.
I don't know how...some...can live like this, I cannot.
I refuse to.
If I do not remove myself I will die one way or the other.
I can't function under this extreme stress.
I just am so tired of crying.
I'm so tired of being so mad.
I'm sick of this, I'm sick to death of feeling more alone by the second.
Happiness is a fleeting lie that will never remain.
Human touch is a bigger lie, making promises of comfort that are more temporal and dissipate in seconds.
I can't believe in the lies of family, of friends and love...
It feels like the biggest lie is from Jesus about how all this...is supposed to be something bigger.
My faith is so weak and dying.
It flows, it tosses and turns with my emotions revealing how shallow and fragile I am.
I'm supposed to pretend I am made of stone, that nothing can shake me...but I cannot hold things up by myself...how to hold things up and keep doing this...keep maintaining anything worthwhile.
I'm...falling out.
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