A Late Breakfast

Abate

Meliorate

Mitigate (I already knew that one)

Palliate

            The words I studied while watching “A White Christmas” today—the first movie I have watched in months. Which was incredibly long and boring and un-captivating but I told my friend, who loves it, that I liked it very much. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. But I find myself doing that ALL THE TIME. Protecting people’s feelings (or what I suppose would hurt them).  Hmmm…I wonder why I feel conflict in myself or get insane nervousness about developing close relationships. (Duh). I have manipulated myself for so long. How can I have healthy connection/intimacy if I am not comfortable with me? That was learned—emotional self-mutilation/manipulation—I understand that. I have compassion on myself. My little girl self who didn’t know any better but just wanted to keep herself safe. I get it. I’m still unlearning though. And Healing. Obviously. That’s why I am writing. I wonder if I’ll get back to watching movies and doing normal stuff. Maybe. I know for now though that escaping of any kind isn’t healthy for me. So I write. And hope. I just smiled.  It reached my eyes. “Hope.” I love that word.

            Its’ eight o’clock right now. At night. Yep. Darkness has fallen. And yet here I am writing on my laptop. I told myself I would only keep to pen and paper after dark. Screens and writing on screens into the night make me feel crazy. So like any normal, crazy person not wanting to feel crazy, I have taken a fast from night computer writing. But now, I guess, it’s break fast time. Breakfast time. At night? Hmm. Where are the pancakes? Blast. I should probably learn how to make those. I should probably learn how to do a lot of things. I’ve been unlearning for so long. My learning time has come!—its dawn anyway. And it’s exciting! Really. It is. My favorite thing I am learning: words. I think to myself:  “If I have words maybe I won’t feel like I am choking all the time.” Or the invisible, weird, goblin thing that has its demonic little fingers around my throat will be burst into a gazillion pieces and I will be able to express what I think and feel and have no shame. There are still feelings of guilt and shame in me, just for being me. Which stinks. But it’s okay. Only when I am around other people (not all people) those feelings surface. When I am alone in my apartment I speak. And dance. And am safe. Often I close my eyes and pretend Jesus is my partner. Some may laugh at that. But I don’t care. For a long time He was the only One who listened. Who I actually talked to. So I love Him best. And I never feel bad being me around Him. And He’s the most beautiful of all! So I consider myself pretty lucky to spend so much time with Him. My emptiness, silence, and pain has brought me to Him.

            I recognize how empty I felt tonight. Wanting to find something exciting or secular to make me feel happy. Find some semblance of the Spirit of Christ—the source of all peace and happiness. Why? When I have access to the real thing? That I can literally switch my thoughts to Christ and all my sadness, angst, feelings that I need to explode and implode, or gasp for air because I’m suffocating and scream because the emotion and EVERYTHING trying to escape, all of that gets swallowed up in His love. I can turn my thoughts to Him, His words, His life…Him in the Garden of Gethsemane feeling what I’m feeling “NO NO, I’M SO SORRY TO MAKE YOU FEEL THIS WAY. It’s terrible that me, just one person has to feel this way, I don’t want Thee to feel it as well. But I do want Thee to suffer. Please suffer. So I don’t have to suffer alone. So I have hope. Please, I’m so sorry to make Thee die, but please die. So I have hope. So I don’t have to feel dead. Thank Thee. I love Thee. I love Thee...Stay with me. Please.” A prayer something like what I just typed. That was what I just said to Him. Then I feel better. Now I feel better. Lighter. 1,000 pounds lighter. Then I think of all the people with no hope. Who live swimming in numbing distraction so they don’t even feel that there is anything wrong. Or a need for a Savior or healing.

            Is something wrong with me? Am I the only one? Surely not. But I do feel awful alone in my faith sometimes. When I say to myself so fiercely so it carries to Heaven so I KNOW THAT HE KNOWS THAT I KNOW I trust Him, “I have faith that God can heal me emotionally. I have faith that God can heal me socially. I have faith that He can take away my panic and my fear.” Fear about one certain department I really struggle with that I will choose not to mention right now but BOY oh BOY (crap, the emphasis on BOY might have just given it away…) when I start writing about it….watch out. THERELL BE A LOT. Note: Therell is the conjunction between there and will. There is no apostrophe because it takes from the dramatic effect when the letters are all in caps.

            I feel peace now. And lookie! It only took 23 minutes! Wow! Ladies and gents look at the wonders of writing!! Less than a half hour ago I felt in a total funk, bursting and itching and sad and slipping under the ground I stood. And now, peace. Presense. Heart. Rachael. Refocused. Now I care. About myself. Life. The people around me. The Savior (gosh, I love Him). I care. Maybe I should break fast more. Breakfast more. Bacon.

Yum.