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A Makeshift Pirate Ship

I'm in bed.  I've been here for the past 4 hours. I have all the essentials piled into my covers.  My guitar, my laptop, some vitamin water... my bed is becoming my makeshift pirate ship.  I don't have to be anything, feel any certain way...

Brian Rowe wrote a song about being a pirate.  The pirate goes on all sorts of adventures and then he realizes he's all alone with only a parrot to keep him company.  Hmm... maybe I should bring my hamster into bed as well. Makeshift pirate ship, makeshift parrot.  Good to go.

I think I'm afraid to stop moving.  I'm afraid to sit down and stop moving.  Because if I do, everything will come rushing out of me.  If I keep moving, I can do the happy dance.  I can be clever and witty. I can care about my friends and tell them how great everything is and how I'm so happy to be in Lancaster on my own.  If I stop moving, people will know. People might see through the song and dance. People would see that I hate it here in Lancaster.  I feel so alone. Nothing feels familiar.  Some days, I miss my house, and my bed, and my parents.  I'm trapped.  I can't move because I'm on a lease and have no where to go.  I can't cry my eyes out because the neighbors will hear me and think something is wrong.  I hate that I've gained weight.  I hate that everything feels like a mistake.  Moving felt so right in March. Now it's November and everything is upside down. 

So the guy that "stood me up" last week - It was really just a misscommunication.  I flipped out.  I haven't flipped out like that in a while.  I said cruel things - and he's almost a total stranger.  I just... I felt like he would be someone that I could talk to, that I could get to know.  Not some guy in a bar who is only interested in making out or having sex.  He could be someone real.  But when stuff fell through, I felt like, ok... you're just going to break my heart. So I basically shoved him as hard as I could.  I'm the queen of pull close, push away. Mostly because I'm scared. Mostly because after losing my first love, then having a relationship that I thought would end in marriage fall through, I'm not really ready to lose again.   

I told my counselor that everything is fine with me, and I haven't called.  I don't want to go in there. I love my counselor (as a professional, not some stupid girl crush) but I'm sick of talking about stuff.    I'm sick of it not getting better.  Maybe it has to hurt longer than Americans like to deal with pain.  We're number 1 on the organ transplant list in the world due to over the counter drugs.  Maybe this is going to take some time. 

I have figured out how to stop from crying in public.  There are days were I'm walking down the street on sitting on the couch with a friend and I'm ready to cry. But if I look up, pinch my nose and swallow hard I can stop from crying. So there, no mess, no questions to answer.  Problem solved. 

So... does heart ache truly make us who we are? If so... when I come out of this... I'm probably going to be amazing.

You know what... i really don't want to be here anymore.

If I should die before I wake...

I'd be ok with that.

Wow it has been so long since I've written in this thing. 

I keep waking up at like 5.  I'm not really sure why, but I can't roll over.  Every day I wake up at about the same time and every day I try to roll over.  So I finally gave up and just get up.  I think He wants my attention.  I think I've been so busy drinking beer, or becoming absorbed with TV or music or driving or whatever that I've forgotten about Him. Maybe it's not really so much as "forgotten" so much as avoided. 

So yeah I'm not sure if I really truely believe God is sovereign.  If I did, why would I still be struggling with some of the issues I am.  If I really trusted in Him, that he has my best interests at heart then why do I avoid reading or praying or feeling?

I'm trying something new.  I'm trying to train myself to sleep in the middle of the bed.  For so long I had a side.  The side I always slept on when I was with someone.  Every day when I wake up and roll over and no one is there, it feels empty.  Doesn't that seem so shallow? 

The other night I had a break down.  I assumed I had plans with someone new - someone I really wanted to meet and they fell through hard.  No phone call, no e-mail, nothing. I was sitting on my couch, trying really hard not to think about it and everything came rushing out of me.  There I was, sobbing for no apparent reason.  I couldn't see the computer screen anymore.  One of my best friends called me and I didn't pick up because I didn't have the energy to be happy.  My neighbors heard me through the walls (my music, not me crying) and knocked on the wall for me to come over.  I pretended not to hear.  I just sat here and cried. 

It's wierd... looking back I can see where He was... saying let ME hold you, let ME wipe up your tears.  It says in psalms that "you keep track of my sorrows.  You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book." I can never see any of this in the moment. It's more of an afterthought.  Will God always be an after thought?  Doesn't that sound so horrible? 

I read my old entries I still struggle with being on my own and being lonely. Will I ever feel ok by myself.  Will I ever stop feeling numb?  I feel like my heart is so numb. 

When will I feel again? 

A place of my own.

I’ve been on my own for a little over a month.  At first,  I cried myself to sleep.  I was horribly lonely.  I’ve been to college, even lived with someone I was with, but this was different.  There was no one else here for me to come “home” to.  I was all by myself.  But there are some ups to be on your own. 

You can be a rock star.

No really.  You can totally be a rock star.  Tonight I hung up a shade (with my first ever pow pow power tool!) in my livingroomkitchenmultipurpose room.  (Did I mention I moved into an efficiency apartment?)  So anyway, shade goes up, rock star comes out!  You can totally dance your heart out.  Change your clothes around, put on your rock star shades, and use your guitar solely as a prop – just totally rock out. 

Another great thing is if, say… you have no idea how to cook, (at this point I have my hand raised.) you can conduct all sorts of science experiments - blow up as many chickens as your little heart desires because let’s face it – who’s going to yell at you?  You live on your own! And besides, if anyone does bother to question you, you are, after all, a rock star so animal cruelty is totally acceptable. 

Also, probably one of the best things… There’s no dress code.  I’ll probably leave that one at that – but you can wear (or not wear) whatever you want.  So yeah, no dress code. 

All in all, I really feel like this place, this place where I’ve placed all my things is starting to feel like home.  At first, it just seemed like a show room – a corner in Ikea with all my favorite things.  But now that I’m here I’m beginning to make it home.  I’ve started blowing money on pointless things like shiny boxes and blown glass.

This place is home. 

Home is this space - my space - above the deli, on a small town main street which smells of chocolate.  Where the retirees gather each morning, for a cup of coffee and watch the sun set on their front porches in rocking chairs.  It’s far away and at times the loneliest place.  But the minute step out of my beetle, I know I’m home.  Slowly, I’m coming home.