I want to scream and yell, throw hiss-fits and break anything that is breakable.
I hate where I’m at in life. I hate everything I do.
I question every single strength I’ve had to date, wondering if it’s just an idea that I convinced myself of. Wondering if I’ve been lying to feel better about myself.
I question who I am as a person.
I question why every friend I’ve ever had has left me, and why the other half of them only pretended to be my friends. They pretended that they cared, but the moment they had a chance to be free of me, they ran away so fast that I never heard from them again.
I question why it is that broken people all seem to develop an attachment to me.
People in my life tell me its because broken people only latch onto people they know they can destroy. That having a love and hope for these broken people is my demise, and ultimately I will fail in life.
I wonder if my perception is completely skewed. I wonder if where I think I see a decent and fairly mature young woman, I’m really fooled. Maybe all that exists is a horrible and indecent person. Someone who is too fat, too immature, too lazy, and too selfish to be anything worthwhile in this world.
It’s been a week where my perceptions have collided consistently with the perceptions of the people who’s thoughts and values I treasure the most.
It’s been a week where I’ve started questioning who I am, and whether I’ve been wrong all along about myself and my life.
I don’t like it. I don’t like feeling like some spoiled emo teenager. But I can’t help it. I can’t seem to navigate away from it. I’m drowning in it.
I fear crying out to God because those with the highest impact in my life tell me the God I believe in is not real. That the God I believe in cannot be real because God never does things like only tell the person who His plan is meant for the plan. That He doesn’t guide our every decision, that He refuses. That He doesn’t ask us to go do things where we would have little to no income, because that would insinuate that our God is not perfect.
The Bible tells me otherwise. But I’m told I must be manipulating it to suit my needs and desires. And I feel stuck.
I’m on the verge of giving up writing. Of getting a factory job along with my part-time job to save up enough money and go to school for whatever they feel is best. Clearly, God closing the doors on me being able to get a journalism job makes every point I ever had that I thought God had provided me with for being one completely moot.
I’m ready to completely call it quits, and become exactly who they want me to be.
Because I can’t survive continuing to be me, when they can’t stand who I am. Living is too difficult with them, and since that’s currently my only option, I have to consider the fact that its all truth.