The past three days, it has been really hard not to cut myself.
And that really scares me.
I don't want to cut myself, and I hate that the desire is even still a part of me. I want so badly to be "normal," and instead I find myself fighting back tears, fighting back anxiety attacks, and trying to ignore the tingly sensations from my wrists.
Yeah, that's a thing. I have an actual physical sensation in my wrists that will only go away if I scratch at them until they bleed.
I haven't, yet.
I haven't scratched/cut in 14 months. And I've only done it once in the past 26.
I really don't want to break that streak. I want it to continue on until I die of old age. I never want to cut myself again.
And yet here I am, in that place again, fighting desperately against anxiety, ignoring the twitch in my fingers and itch in my wrists, and feeling so trapped, like there's no way out.
I feel so buried.
I remember reading the story of Sinbad the Sailor, and on one of his seven journeys (and, I'm sorry, but I would have stopped journeying after the FIRST major disaster, riches or not!) he was buried alive with his dead wife.
I remember reading about how he was forced to follow her dead body into the tomb, how he had one drink of water and one loaf of bread with him. How the air was dusty and smelled of cobwebs, old linen and death. How they rolled the stone across the tomb, and it was dark. How he sat there on the cold stone slab beside the body of his dead wife, and just waited.
No hope of escape. Just waiting to die, and hoping it would come sooner rather than later.
I feel like Sinbad right now, watching the stone get rolled across the tomb, and all the light disappearing, and the air getting hot and close, filled with the dust of corpses.
No wonder I'm not coping, feeling like that. o_O;
I'm not sure what to do. I'm not sure how to cope. The healthy part of me says, "This will pass. What you thought was going to happen, isn't, but things could still be okay!"
The rest of me is screaming, "I can't do this anymore!!!!!" I can't face another nine months of hopelessness, trapped in a burdensome, never-ending cycle of working, working, working and never having enough money, of always being completely stressed out and exhausted, of being completely isolated because of busyness.
We didn't even "really" get to celebrate Christmas last year!!!!!!!!!!!!! And Christmas is special. I know the cliche "It's about love, and family, and togetherness, and Jesus," but when you're so exhausted you feel constantly sick, and you feel totally frustrated at every turn because you can't give like you want too, and you don't have time for even the FREE Christmas traditions ...
It's really hard.
Right now, as I look at my life, all I can see for the next year is more isolation, more loneliness, more exhaustion, more feeling sick all the time, and no fun. EVER.
I only realized a couple weeks ago that last school year, I didn't do anything that was just ME. I didn't game. I didn't geek out about anything. I didn't hang out with friends. I didn't have any parties. I didn't do anything that was just ME.
Okay, maybe a couple things. Caleb came over for a short Christmas time with us. Aaaaaaaand ... that is all I remember doing.
*whimper*
I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do.
I know all the pat answers: "You're just not trusting God enough," "Give it to the Lord," "He'll give you strength," "You don't know what the future brings, " "Things will be different, don't worry," "Just don't worry about it," "God will provide," and I know these things - I don't really need somebody to tell me these, because I'm already shouting them at myself inside my head.
But what do I do with the feels?
What do I do with the dread I feel at facing another long, empty and lonely school year?
What do I do with how trapped I feel into working at anything, just to make ends meet?
What do I do with the anxiety that is clutching at my throat, and making my heart skip a beat?
What do I do with the tingling in my wrists that I have to remember, every moment, don't give in to?
What do I do with the feels?
"Hear my cry, O God! Listen to my prayer!
From the ends of the earth, I call to You, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For You have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe.
I long to dwell in Your tent forever, and take refuge in the shelter of Your wings.
For You, God have heard my vows, You have given me the heritage of those who fear Your name.
May [I] be [in] God's presence forever, appoint Your love and faithfulness to protect [me].
Then I will ever sing in praise of Your name, and fulfill my vows day by day."
"As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, my God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?
My tears have been my food
day and night,
while people say to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”
These things I remember
as I pour out my soul:
how I used to go to the house of God
under the protection of the Mighty One
with shouts of joy and praise
among the festive throng.
Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.
My soul is downcast within me;
therefore I will remember you
from the land of the Jordan,
the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar.
Deep calls to deep
in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.
By day the Lord directs his love,
at night his song is with me—
a prayer to the God of my life.
I say to God my Rock,
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about mourning,
oppressed by the enemy?”
My bones suffer mortal agony
as my foes taunt me,
saying to me all day long,
“Where is your God?”
Why, my soul, are you downcast?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God."
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