Thursday, October 19, 2006

Notes From Underground

It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to climb back in the well. Ever since I read those words, I can't think about much else. My mind turns in circles, reaching out in all directions but finding the walls solid and unyielding to the logic of hope. I spent the first half hour afterward sobbing, almost uncontrollably. Every time I'd think I was making headway, quieting myself down, the vice grip of anguish would seal my heart, my eyes and my fate to keep shaking and sobbing and desperately trying to think of something other than my utter despair. After all, even if I couldn't get out, I wasn't doing anything productive but crying "like a little girl" (the phrase comes unbidden; it's engrained), and making mock arguments that sounded alternately convincing and spiteful and hypocritical and stupid, and ultimately futile. My thoughts remain a club on which are emblazoned the words: "I am a worthless Christian, worthless adult, worthless woman, worthless human."

I don't blame the comment for serving as a trigger. It was just there and all my backstory formed it into a bludgeon.

Eventually I got up from my chair and tried to move. I thought to distract myself and gain some kind of perspective. But I couldn't stop crying and shaking, the will going out of my knees, the pain finding me on the ground, barely breathing. I tried to catch my breath and my thoughts all night, but here I am, 1 AM, bleeding tears and pumping despair through my veins.

I won't make Hubster get up when he's exhausted and I'm unlikely to make any headway even with his help. Earlier he held me as I sobbed into his work clothes, always responding that he loved me whether it was the first of fifth time I had to hear that tonight. He staved it off through bible study and dinner and a relatively normal evening. I tried to hold out until sleepy oblivion ushered me to tomorrow, but my thoughts had no competition as I wrestled with my pillows, and pretty soon I had to go cry in the bathroom where there were tissues.

This is it. This is my particular brand of crazy - out there for the world to ridicule or ignore. Out there for me to dissect again and again. Out there, period. Unlike my last post, there's no persona here. I'm not the Queen of the Inane defending Her Pathetic Realm here. I'm telling it like I currently see it, and all I can say is "God of Joy and Despair, God over all, Forgive me for losing all sense of you and for slipping back to this place. Forgive all my sin and raise me up or I perish."

3 comments:

Don Quixote said...

I have no idea what to say other than I am deeply sorry to the core of my being. The last thing I wanted to do was insult and upset a dear friend and someone I truly admire. I apologize to you and anyone else that my words have offended.

The only assurance I can offer is that it will not happen again, as this is my last post.

RedHurt said...

Hey lady. I hope today is looking a little brighter. I'm sorry the wild commentating threw you so hard and that last night was so rough, and I wanted to say that, speaking for myself, my wife, and my dog, who hasn't even met you, we all love you, and greatly enjoy reading your blog and the times we've spent with you, and wish we could be there to go have coffee or something and do whatever small thing we could to help. Seeing as how that's not possible, here's a comment on your blog.

Oh, and I was only kidding about that thing I said yesterday. Jesus doesn't really hate bloggers, I'm pretty sure. I think he likes them, mostly, especially ones with flowers and stuff on the border.

Louisa said...

darling... not quite sure if I should post here, as I have lost touch with you since Salt Co.

some of us out there understand, at least a bit... because we have struggled with our own version.

*hug* and when the dawn shines, it will shine all the brighter.

ps... you're website has been one of my motivations for seeking help. thank you for that.