Fear and Faith

I have heard time and again that fear and faith cannot co-exist. For a long time, I wasn't sure what that meant. Oh, yes, the logistical side was well ingrained, but the practical application was lacking. It was a mystery, something I assumed was an issue for other people and not me.

Ha.

Since I moved out on my own, life has been a series of ups and downs. I have had the rush of getting an A on a difficult paper and the disappointment of being very ill. As a part of this whiplash, I have become very defensive. I look for reasons to shut people out and I have taken to avoiding certain situations, just because I don't want to be rejected. Silly things like advising have become extremely stressful events, and other things (like dealing with the insurance) were so intimidating that I took to avoiding them. If there was a way, I would hide from any situation I perceived as being threatening in any way.

For a very long time, I have been dealing with depression and post-traumatic stress disorder. It is a difficult set of issues because there is no "magic cure" for either of them. Sometimes medications can help, but the times I've tried being medicated for either I usually had an adverse reaction to the drugs. Therapy can help, too, but it's so expensive that I can't justify what might be an indefinite treatment. Most of the time, I am very good at handling both the depression and the PTSD. At least, I am very good at handling it when someone else is around. Living on my own...it's been more of a battle than it has ever been before. I wasn't even able to recognize the issue until today: It hit me like a ton of bricks while shampooing my hair. I felt so stupid for missing something so entirely obvious--I'm sure several of you have seen signs of it in my life.

I am not certain how I am going to handle the situation. For several months I have been letting fear rule my life, and my faith has been hurt by it. But, I think now is the time to turn to God again. He might not be able to make my problems disappear, but He can give me the courage to ask someone out, the certainty of my own worth, and the guidance I need. Now it is time to start fighting back, and it's time to win.

Too Depressing for You?

The other day, someone commented on my wordpress account (where I keep my creative writing) and told me that I am too depressing. This comment caught me a bit by surprise, if only because in person I am a very cheerful, bright person. Reading back over some of the things I've written, I can understand where the confusion came in. So, I decided to write a blogpost in order to "explain myself." I don't want anyone worrying that I am too depressed or moments away from finding a ledge.

Over the course of my life, a lot of bad things have happened. I've got scars (mental, emotional, and physical) that will not go away until the Resurrection. But, those scars are a part of who I am, now. I have actually had psychologists tell me that someone with my baggage should not be able to function, that I should be mentally and emotionally crushed. The fact I get up out of bed every morning and can smile is a fantastic victory.

My secret is rather simple. I write the bad feelings out. When I am upset, I will put the emotion into a poem. When someone close to me passes away, I express my grief by writing. Any emotion that is too great for me to handle alone, I put into words. By doing this, I remove the pain and distance myself from it. Then, I can objectively look at it and overcome whatever the issue is. Yes, this means I end up with lots of painful nonfiction and poetry pieces. But, it does wonders for my psyche. I can usually tell you a) why I am upset, b) what combinations of feelings are causing problems, and c) how I intend to resolve the situation. In its way, writing has become my therapy.

I have never considered suicide. I have never cut myself or hurt myself to "cope" with mental anguish. I have a strong testimony that God lives and loves me. I have hope that tomorrow will be better than today.

I'm a totally different 1%.

Ironically, sometimes I write poetry that is very "depressing" when I am actually very happy. The result is a totally different kind of poem, but I don't think you would be able to tell the difference just looking at them. Here are two examples: one of them was written when I was very happy and one was written when I was very unhappy. Can you guess which is which?

Just Another Foot
I ripped out my heart
And buried it
Six feet deep,
But I can still feel you
Beat, beat, beating it.
You are my ghost:
The stain on the pages
Of my history,
The taint that bleeds
Through every line,
The story I
Will never tell.

I ripped out my heart
And buried it
Six feet deep,
But it wasn’t deep enough
To escape you
Beat, beat, beating it.
You are my demon:
The curse that haunts
My storm tossed sleep,
The shadow lurking
Over my left shoulder,
The pain of my
break, break, breaking heart.

How many feet does it take
To escape the taint,
The stain,
The bruise
Of you?
Pieces of me are
Flake, flake, flaking away
And soon nothing will be left.
Maybe if I rip out my heart,
Bury it just another foot
Deeper,
I won’t be able to feel
You beat, beat, beating
My heart.


Color: Me
I’m white
–skin the color of a fine piece of parchment.
The world tells me, orders me, to hate that
To hate myself.

All of the crimes of the past:
A skin color?
Nobody ever committed a gross injustice–
Unless they were white.

White. Caucasian. Trash?

I don’t believe it,
That I’m worthless because of my flesh.
Hate me for my mind,
Disregard me for the words that come out of my mouth,
Loathe me for the things I do–
But never judge me by my skin.

I am not a portrait of the past.
I am the present, the future, the inside–
Me.

--

At first glance, I probably seem like a very depressing writer. I just want to assure you that writing is just...a form of expressing. Sometimes it helps me heal my soul, and at others I just want to put interesting rhythms together. Thank you for the concern--it really does mean a lot that you would worry.