I'm so glad I'm not always right

"I knew You'd never forgive me.
And I was wrong.  And I'm so so sorry."

You banished me from the garden

for
    my
         own
                good
                but
                ultimately
                for
                Your
         own
                glory.

Dig me up
                by my roots
and plant me
                back where
life is fresh
                and brand new.

Tumbleweeds (or Seasonal Snowballs)

I didn't imagine the snowballs would be bigger in Texas.  Here they're just called tumbleweeds.  Here my mind fractures and gathers fertilizer to expand its cracks.

I try to sit down to get one thing done.  Then all I do is sit for hours avoiding work.  I've got to get going somewhere.  Currently the only place I'm going is crazy and I don't know how to get back on the right track.  I'm not myself anymore, though I don't want to be my medicated self.  I'm not the one I like to be, though have I ever been?  I feel like I'm running in circles and I'm not even moving.  I feel like I need to be kicked, and kicked hard.  My mind races in slow motion.  My heart says don't let me fall out of life and that there's little motivation.

The world is falling apart.  It's spinning out of control and no one seems to be here to stop it.  If I attempt to stop and solve one thing, the china I'm carrying fall to the floor.

Inject me with some adrenaline.  Perhaps I need the motivation.  Though, I don't want to just be given more energy.  Then I really will go crazy.  Some days I make a list and it works.  Some days I make a list and it makes my heart shrink.  Where do I start?  Have I waited too long on some of these things?  It's as if someone is punching me in the head over and again.  It's not a headache though; my mind runs rampant and I can't really stop it.  So I try to sleep and hope to wake up to it being better.

This, again, is depression with the flavor of anxiety.  It's bitter in my mouth.  I try to remember eating something not tarnished with the bitter flavor and little comes to mind.  My mind is a measuring rod, ever stretching, though not expanding.  Inside is a fish swimming and these incomplete thoughts consume me.

Who is going to make it better?  I'm breaking from the inside out.  I can't always go on like this.  If I'm always relying on others then eventually loneliness will be lonelier.  Though I must be humble enough to accept help from others.  Forget the independent nature of this western nation.  Will the motherland ever take me back?  Still, I don't belong here and I know it.  Likewise, "this world has nothing for me and this world has everything."  It all depends where you're looking and which world you're talking about.

Perhaps I'll just end this with a simple request:
help.

With what, I'm not sure, but I just feel I could use some help.

Insight from Someone on the Inside

It just feels so good to talk about it.  I'm not trying to say that that's the only way that it's true, but it sure does help.  The tears welling up felt so good, and perhaps that was necessary.  Maybe that will keep Saturn's rings at bay.  Or rather, around my head they will not stay.  It's like something's moving outside me, though I know it's coming from the inside.  Does that make any sense to you?  How do you describe something to someone when you yourself think you're crazy?

Who needs onions?  I've got life experiences.  Maybe you're right, confrontations are just a part of life.  I can think about so many things, like what needs to be done, but when the rings begin circling again I'm stuck.  Or am I running?  I don't want to feel this way but I don't really know how to describe it without seeming crazy, or without it appearing that I'm making it up for attention.  I'm really not, you know.  These thoughts really are distressing.  They're very real.  So much so, they seem to manifest themselves as something other than thoughts.  These cognitions feel more like apparitions that I cannot see but nevertheless feel very real.

In addition to Saturn's rings, they sometimes manifest themselves in the form of an old film.  The horizontal lines travel down my upper body, staying mostly near my head.  It doesn't feel any better, in case you were curious.

How can I write down my automatic thoughts, their behaviors, and alternate thoughts to challenge them with all of this going on inside?  I try to do that but it seems that I get stuck during the first two steps, most times ruminating on the first.  Yes there are times that I make it all the way to the point of developing challenging thoughts, but they don't seem to be very productive.  They are made of much less substance than the automatic thoughts and the behaviors associated with them.  Perhaps, as I've previously thought, it is not the primary thoughts that really seem to matter, but rather the secondary thoughts.  This is particularly true when the initial thoughts are incomplete, meaning I know their potential or where they are leading and I don't allow my mind to think them all the way through.

So after all, it seems like some of the verbalization does seem to help.  Maybe especially as an extroverted recharger living alone in a new city.  It's not that new to me, but it's still only been a year.  There is still much to be explored, so we'll see where the stairs lead from here.  I don't want to find my identity in someone else, unless it is the One that really matters.  However, excessive time to myself doesn't only lead to regret.  It is also a feeding grown for negativity and beginning to believe some of the falsehoods.  Therefore, if I talk your ear off please forgive me, very few responses may be necessary, just let me know you're here.  Let me know you hear.  And validate the truth.  And challenge the lies.

Please
and
thank you.

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Not Quite In-Between, but a Helpful Description

"My name it ain't nothin',
my age it means less"

Is there a blindfold on your heart's eyes?  Or perhaps better put it, maybe its ears have been covered and something's muzzling the sound coming from this direction.

"can't waste time
when it comes time
to dance"

I've even had words here but sometimes you take them from me.  You don't steal them.  Maybe it's just that I don't properly seal them.  Therefore, I think thoughts thoroughly and by the time my mind and hands have the time to speak the translation has gone missing.  So I don't blame you, and really who could?  In fact, these words must have a better purpose.  And who knows, perhaps in the future a manuscript in my mind will be found and my hands will be better equipped to transcribe the cognitions at that time.

There are sometimes words that make little sense to anyone around.  Sometimes they're for later.  Sometimes they might just be clouds of verbal air.  And still, sometimes they might be a vessel for yet unknown truths.

I'm really not sure what it all means but life is still the in-between.  In-between is often all there is.  All we have.  If we live from event to place to mountaintop to valley, life wouldn't be living, it'd be hopscotch.  Or it would be leapfrog.  As much as we may wish for it to be one of those things, it's important to live in the flat moments.  The gray moments.  The Swiss moments.  Flat lines and endless paths, hallways and seemingly endless roads, they all are in-between.  And though they are in-between, they are still life.

Do not forget
that, they are
still life.

And for those who remain curious,
"the country
I come from
is called
the Midwest"

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