Normally, these blog posts come after I've felt some kind of resolution. Another semester at UNC under the belt? I write about how I've grown. A summer that ended too soon? I write about the bittersweet experience of leaving something behind for even greater opportunities. "Hopefully the last" surgery recovery period almost complete? I write about how I've gotten through. Once the curtain has closed and loose ends are tied, I feel satisfied and confident and inspired enough to put things into words and hope that someone reads them. Predictability. It's just my style.
So why write now? When things are the messiest they've been in awhile and I have no clue which way I'm going? I have no idea. But here we are.
Maybe it's because I keep feeling - and feeling, and feeling, and feeling - so many emotions, all at once, overwhelmingly, or sometimes feel nothing at all, and this is the best way for me to process things.
Things like frustration. Frustration at the fact that the road to health I've been on for over four years now doesn't seem to have an end that I can see. Frustration that the treatments never seem to cease, and that each one gets my hopes up, only for them to plummet back to Earth. Frustration because it's been awhile since I've felt God's tangible presence in my life. Frustration that so many people I allow myself to get close to end up disappointing me in some way.
Guilt. Guilt because there are people out there in drastically worse situations that have a better outlook than I do. Guilt stemming from how I always feel the need to be stronger, more optimistic, more determined. Guilt from knowing, deep down, that I've been putting up a wall between myself and God, even though I've denied it.
Restlessness. Like I'm spinning my wheels and going nowhere. Restless, torn between wanting to go out and see the world and never wanting to leave the comfort of my home. Restless and scared that I've yet to set concrete plans for my future.
Fear. Fear that the resolution I so eagerly desire won't come any time soon. Fear that the success I crave is unattainable. Fear that I'll slowly lose touch of myself and become someone so cynical that I won't recognize her.
So why am I displaying the skeletons in my closet when I'd normally do anything but? My closest friends joke around with me and say that I'm "the most unemotional female they've met", in the sense that I always let my head rule over my heart. Yet here I am, writing about the things I'm the most vulnerable about.
Maybe it's because I know how it feels to try and put up a front because it's the socially acceptable thing to do, and I know how many people in my life tend to do the same thing. Maybe it's because I want it to be known that I haven't really been myself lately, but I'm determined to come back.
Because in the midst of all this madness, my life is still peppered with blessings. They come in the form of a friend's phone call, right when I need it the most. Or in a long, tight hug from my sister, right when I'm worried that she's growing up and I'm missing it. In my mother, who heals my broken heart when hers is breaking as well. In my roommate, who can almost always look at me and tell when something's wrong. And in those moments that, like a comet, blind me with how blazingly beautiful and passionate they are, even if they don't last.
I'm not perfect. Through the course of writing this, I almost chickened out and closed the window. I haven't published it yet, so I still might.
I'm far from resolution. I'm far from being able to look back at this and write my usual neat, tidy blog post. In fact, this one is probably as all over the place as I am. But here's the beautiful thing - one day, I WILL be able to. I'll be able to realize how the pieces fell into place. I'll look up to the sky, laugh, and say, "Sorry, God. Shoulda known you had it under control". My testimony, which is currently resembling the composure of this entry, will fall into place, too. And it'll be ready and waiting for someone to hear who's in the middle of their own chaos. It's worth waiting for. It's worth persevering for. And I can't wait!
"It's rarely the easy, comfortable times that God's doing good. Every time God's doing something amazing in my heart, it's when everything is falling around me."
- Mike Donehey, Tenth Avenue North
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