October 7, 2013
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Real to Me
Being honest with myself sucks, but it’s something I’ve been trying to do more often. I lied to myself so many times, especially after we moved down here, that I fooled myself into believing so many things… I may not be able to lie to others (or at least people I love) very well, but I’m a master at doing it to myself. Otherwise I would have realized how miserable I was for over half of my life.
I’ve fallen back into that misery, but now that I’m admitting to myself it’s there it’s a little better than living in the denial.
There are other things I’m being honest to myself about. I wish I wouldn’t, I wish I could just lie because it’d be much less painful, but I’m tired of lying — at least to myself. If I have to keep masks for everyone else I need someone to know the truth, and it might as well be me.
I keep thinking back to that women’s retreat I took with our old church. The experience I had was incredible, but I somehow managed to lose my way again anyway. Most likely because of the lying. I want to go back to a church, but I truly dislike the process of finding one. Large churches make me feel too detached, but smaller churches are hard to walk into because you’re instantly spotted as the visitor and EVERYONE tries to welcome you and shake hands and the preacher makes you wave or stand during the announcements for a massive welcome and it’s just– I don’t want that attention. It comes from a kind and loving place, I know, but having so much attention at once feels a little fake to me (even though I know that’s not the intention) and makes me feel like they’re all just trying to impress me (which I know isn’t true). It makes it harder to decide whether the service is my style or not because I suddenly feel on display or like I’m watching an act. I want to just go in unnoticed, enjoy the service unfiltered, and see for myself if it makes me feel like it’s my place. El Faro used to feel that way for me… It hurt to lose that.
I visited a couple churches of family members or friends-of-family, but I haven’t felt connected or right in any of them. I don’t like visiting churches of people I know because I feel like I may offend them when I don’t choose it…
I remember being so happy when I visited churches with Justin because we were both the visitors in each so there was no risk of offending each other, but they were all so large that I didn’t feel connected to any of them — despite the lovely services.
I didn’t just lose a boyfriend when things ended…
I’ve all but lost my faith…
I feel utterly alone.
Sometimes I can’t even pray…
So I sit in the quiet and peel off the lies one by one.
And whenever I’ve had enough of truth…
I lose myself in meaningless video games.
I’m still trying to write. I didn’t manage to make anything for this month’s Writer’s Group, but hopefully I will for next month. I should explain, last month I found out that the library downtown has a Writer’s Group that meets once a month and they workshop each other’s work, and that it was open to everyone. I found out to late to make it last month, couldn’t write anything for this month, but am desperately trying to get something done for next.
Yancy found God again…
I’m still drowning.
