Stream of Unconscious

Often I wake in the middle of the night with thoughts and visions that must be written. A lot of it may seem like mere rambling, but I am a born writer; I need to see what happens to my words once they stare back at me from the pages of my computer screen. Since I am ususally more than half-asleep when this happens, I jokingly entitled the original document: "Stream of Unconscious." Now that I am finally starting to publish in a blog (as so many people have suggested I should do!), I thought the title remained appropriate.

Saturday, December 15, 2007

A Bit of Writer's Block and Holiday Blues

I've attempted writing several times over the last few weeks, and I just couldn't make it work out. There's way too much going on in my head right now to make a lot of sense on paper. In fact, I've stopped writing - even journaling - for the most part, which is always an indicator that something's not right. So what's going on with me? I'm still trying to figure it out.

I feel like I'm losing myself again in the midst of life. I have a lot of church friends who are awesome, and then there's friends from new work and old work, and then there's friends from school. And... sometimes I feel like I have to be a different person to all of them. Like, there are people you can curse around and people you can't. There are people who know I have a drink every now and again, and people who find it offensive that alcohol exists. There are people you can answer honestly when they ask you what's going on in your life, and there are people you just have to say: "Oh I'm fine" to, and move on. And I have a really hard time with that. It's hard for me to not be real with everyone. But then that gets me into trouble.

Is it wise to be totally real with everyone? I'm finding that it may not be. But that makes me sad. And then... is it bad that I find it easier to be real with non-Christian friends? Because that's what's been happening lately.

And then I find I'm a bit confused about God. Does he accept me the way I am or not? Is he holding out on me? Could I have more if I weren't dedicated to following him? Would I be living my dreams right now if God wasn't a factor? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious. I really want to live life to the fullest, and honestly, I'm finding I don't have a whole lot in common with the people I'd think I have the most in common with. And the people I always thought would be a bad influence on me are the ones encouraging me and allowing me to be myself and just have fun. It's strange. And I'm just confused about it all.

On top of all of that, there's the family mess. It's worse this Christmas than just the usual drama. I may not even be able to be with everyone for Christmas, and as stressful as the situation can be sometimes, I find myself pretty heartbroken over the thought of not being with them. It'd be one thing if I had some amazing guy to spend Christmas with, and I was starting my own family traditions. But it won't be like that. And I'm pretty angry about it all, if I'm being real with myself.

I guess it's just been a stressful month. And I feel alone in it all, because I don't know who to talk to. Everyone's busy. Everyone's got their own problems. And I guess I just really want a companion in the midst of my turmoil. Its a universal desire, I know. I just happen to be feeling it more than usual lately.

'Tis the season.

Saturday, December 8, 2007

A Hard Goodbye

Waiting for someone to die is not intuitive, and no one can teach us how. It is not natural, though death may be familiar to us by now, but something in us screams that this was not how things were supposed to be.

We don't know how to react. I find myself wanting to do something, but I can't figure out what I should do; I don't know anything that would help, so that gets translated into anxiety. So here I am, anxious, awaiting a phonecall I don't want, by any means. We are odd creatures, you and I.

Aunt Susan is one of those people you can't help but love. She is one of those people who glows, who shines with beauty, joy, and compassion. She is one of those people who knows, without you even having to speak the words. She's the kind of person who finds out you're having financial difficulty and slips a couple of twenties into your pocket when she hugs you goodbye. She's the kind of person who immediately offers her home to you when you don't have a place to live...

Susan is the kind of person you want to know forever. She's the kind of person you'd want to keep on earth for as long as possible, because this place won't be as good without her. And I told God that. But I guess I don't know everything.

Someone told me last night that God is not a genie, and that not everything we pray will be answered and I just stood there, because what I was wanting to say would not have been kind. I don't want God to be a genie. I don't want him to give me whatever I want. I've never been like that. I just wanted him to notice. I just wanted him to help. I just wanted him to do something when I couldn't... I wanted him to do the the thing I was incapable of doing. I wanted him to be strong, and capable, and loving. I guess I've always only wanted him to be a dad for me... unstoppable, invincible... able to conquer even cancer. Even death. And I'm not saying he's not. I'm just saying I can't see it right now. And I tried to. I wanted to. I tried to have faith...

My words are not enough. I considered not even writing. But this is who I am. I have to try. And I want to wait around by the phone all day, but I can't. I shouldn't. I should go to Barnes & Noble and buy that book I've been wanting, and I should meet up with my friends and see a movie like we'd planned, and I should go out to eat tonight and just live. It's so cliche to say: "She would want that." but I know her and I know she would. I know she would want me to go on living, go on hanging out, and get the most out of today. I know she would want my life to be full.

But I will miss you, Susan. I will miss the life that was contagious in you, the smiles, and the laughter. I will miss you in the years to come, and we will all remember you. We will all want you to be there. And no one will quite understand it, because we are incapable. But we will miss you when you go.