This is like drowning.

Me, now. The struggle to be normal, sane, happy, rested... It's like drowning. You know, it's so quiet.... you can't scream because there's water in your mouth, and when you do come up for a second of air, all you can do is breathe before sinking again. The terror of not making it up for another gulp, of not being noticed by someone and rescued. The constant struggle to stay afloat, keep your mouth above the water... And most drownings can't be detected by the people standing by, because you are not thrashing or screaming for help... all of your energy is put into trying to get that one more breath... I have the strength still, to reach out for a rope. I am reaching, and will grab onto it.

Invisible

I feel so invisible lately, like a ghost wandering around, stuck between this world and the next. I hand out everything that people want, I do my Stepford-wifely-duties, and I feel like nobody can see me at all, unless they need something from me. All I want at this moment is for someone to hold onto me tightly and acknowledge my existence, and appreciate me for simply being alive. I want to leave my mark somehow, leave something that people will look at and say, "She was here. She existed. I cared about that."

Okay

After much urging from a dear friend, I have decided to try this Therapy thing one more time. The fellow specializes in PTSD, and uses traditional therapy along with EMDR to help put a patient's traumas behind them, for good. Out of about 150 cases that he has used this treatment for, only one failed. So, I guess that means there is hope for me!
Lately I have found myself falling to pieces, more broken every day. It always comes as such a shock to me, as I tend to wander around thinking that everything is in the past and that I am over it all. This is absolutely untrue, and I have come to see quite a few things in the past couple of weeks that tell me that I am not okay.
So, this is my last resort. If it doesn't work, I give up. I will just live with the me that I am, and trudge wearily through every day.
I am barely managing to hang on to my sanity lately, and the only thing, honestly the ONLY thing keeping me halfway functional is my kids. I just feel like my rope is unwinding on its own, and soon even my kids won't be a "good enough" reason for me to keep it together.
I do not want things to get to that point, that point of no return. And so I will try one more time. I am hoping for a miracle, really... and it's sad because in my life I have learned not to expect very much from things, because that way, I can't be let down.
The things that are affecting me now are these - abandonment issues, trust issues, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, trouble sleeping, no appetite, feeling antsy, anger- rage, actually, neediness, thoughts of self-harm, lack of motivation, severe mood swings, nightmares... I will stop there, because now I am even more depressed just reading it...
My dear readers (if there are any, that is), if you pray, please say one for me. I can't promise anything, but I hope to update here as progress (hopefully!!) is made.

To Mourn...

First, let me say that I believe I am not the only one who mourns. Everyone has something, and some may not even know what it is. They suffer with a heavy weight, a burden of pain that has very little hope of being relieved, especially because they don't know where their burden has stemmed from.
What I mourn is the loss of what I had, and the knowledge that it is no longer there. It is a completely different country, and I am a completely different person. The losses are huge and many. Loss of parents at a young age, loss of innocence at the same time. Loss of friendship, loss of my home, loss of a country. Loss of the hope that someday I could go back and things would be the same, because it is just not so. Were I to go back, it would simply be to see what was, once, and to find closure in seeing that it is no longer. To know with all of myself that I truly can never go back.
Africa gets into your blood, and it is in mine forever. The small things - red dust, African rain, woodsmoke in the quiet dawn of a small village, a newborn in a dark hut, the dramatic sky, the smell of a goat, puppy's breath, the music, the movements of people, the language, the tales... I could make a list of thousands of small things that all add up to *home*.
I miss it terribly. I miss the heat, making waves in the air over drought-dried earth. I miss the storms that always came, building and building in the sky, their breezes cooling the air, and then the pouring down of water, like God's bucket lost it's bottom right over us. I miss the dust that covered everything, turning our clothes and hair red like the earth. I miss the people, their amazing hospitality that I have never experienced anywhere else in the world. The way being a *person* is so important to their society. I miss greeting every person I see and having them smile from ear to ear and greet me back. I miss sleeping outside on our raised beds made of sticks, the huge sky with millions of stars, the breeze, the smell of Africa in my nose as I drift off to sleep. I miss the mornings, the low sleepy sounds of a village waking up, the pump squeaking as women draw their daily water, the thud, thud, thud of someone pounding grain, the lowing of cows, the cry of a baby, the crow of a rooster, the soft chatter of a family rising for a long day of simply surviving.
I miss the way everything would stop around noon and not begin again until around 3 - the hottest time of the day, and a time for people to huddle in groups over tea, or just crack peanuts and speak softly of everyday things. I miss the buzzing during that time, you know, when everything gets so quiet and still that you can hear the bugs and insects flying or munching on plants?
I miss the trees there, their wildness and bigness and beauty, so many living dancing things with their arms stretched high, inviting me up for a nice climb and a rest in their branches.
I miss it all, all of it. Home forever, in me, made me, changed me, loved me and I loved back.

God.

Sometimes I think that God is just an overgrown child, bored and playing games with the little people. "Oh, look! There is a missionary who has sacrificed everything for me, ha ha! Let's see what happens if I let this godly fellow diddle their little girl..." or, "Man, I created you to be attracted to women. But I made a rule for you, too. You may not act on your attraction. Ha ha ha!" or, "Let me make this pot to hold water. Now, pot. You were made to hold water, but you may not do so. Sit there, be dry, and crack. Ha ha ha!!! My goodness, this is entertaining."
Supposedly we were made with a free will. But there is always a catch, isn't there? You may do whatever you please. But when you get to judgment day, that large head will shake and that finger will wag, and you will be in BIG trouble, man.
We are always compared to sheep in the bible - ever wonder why? Sheep are stupid. They follow dumbly wherever they are led, without question. Over a cliff? Okay! Let's go! Might as well compare us to lemmings.
I am not happy to be a dumb sheep. I want my free will, and I want it now! I don't want to follow blindly, especially not a dude who likes to play games with his creation... like collecting a bunch of ants and then stomping on them. Like making a beautiful painting and then tearing it to shreds. Like building a mansion and then setting it on fire...
But maybe I am wrong. All I know is that it is GOOD to question. Everything.

Today...

I would like to be gone. It doesn't matter how. Buried in a hole, drowned in the sea, smothered by a large, furry animal...it doesn't matter. I am so tired. I am a little bit broken... maybe a lot. I don't know who or what I am, or what I am supposed to be. I don't know what I think... that's probably why I'm blogging, to try and find some clarity here.
The stupid little things that make a person survive are not happening for me. Can't sleep, can't eat, can't think...
It seems like I am in constant pain - this head of mine - I almost hope there is a tumor hiding there that will one day cause a sudden death... almost. I have always claimed to have no fear of dying, and sometimes it is all I really want... but the truth is, everyone is afraid of death - the unknown, the darkness that will come with it... it's just that sometimes that darkness seems to be the sweetest possibility... sometimes.
So, here I ramble, and leave still broken, still without a conclusion or resolution...

Buttons

Seeing as there have been times in my life that would make some people's faces squinch up in disgust orconf usion, and since I want those times to be gone for good, I chose to get buttons tattoo'd onto my wrists, as a reminder to myself that there is no reason for such self-destructive behavior, as a reminder that those days are in the past and staying there...

Be free.

"Be who you are and say what you feel, because
those who mind don't matter,and those who matter don't mind and
never will." - Dr. Seuss

Maybe...

Maybe it's the ones who don't wander that are lost...

My dreams...

My dreams have been scattered, like petals on the ground... walk carefully please, so as not to crush them very badly...

* It seems that another person who wrote things wrote something very similar to this, many moons ago. Here it is:

"I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams."

WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS

I am tripped out over this, and a little impressed as well. There really is nothing new under the sun...