Trying to Fill a Void

Emptiness, part 2:

               “Danielle, pick up babe.” The only reply to Bryan’s plea was the faintly static silence that told him there was no chance that Danielle was going to answer her phone. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you. It was the alcohol, I swear. I would never hit you baby.” Still silence. Nothing but that eerie silence. Frustrated, Bryan hung up and hurled a fist at the wall. It connected with a stud, causing him to yell expletives and cradle his wounded hand. Obviously it was going to take more than sniveling and apologizing to get her back. He had never seen her so hurt before. The cavern in his chest that she had created when she left hurt him worse than the ache for alcohol he felt. He needed her.

                His lethargic frame sagged against the wall and he let out a pitiful moan. Again, he dialed her number and waited hopelessly as the phone rang and rang. And then-

                “Bryan, stop calling. Please. I don’t want to talk.” Her voice was like a salve to his aching heart.

                “Dani, please just listen, it’s not my fault-”

                “Shut up, okay? We’re over. I can’t…” her voice caught and he could tell she was crying. “I can’t do this anymore.”

                “But I can’t live without you. Dani...” Bryan’s intoxicated mind groped for the right words, anything to make her stay. He needed her second chance. More than life. “Danielle, if you don’t take me back then I’ll end it all.” There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment, broken only by Danielle’s haggard breathing.

                “What?” She asked after a few moments. Bryan took a shaky breath.

                “If I can’t have you than there’s no reason for me to live. I’ll get in the car right now and drive off a bridge.” His threat was met with more silence.

                “You are so, so drunk. Sober up and get your head on straight.” Danielle said finally.

                “I swear Dani, I’ll leave right now. You’re all I have to live for. Look… I know the drinking is a problem. I see that now.” Tears started to drip down Bryan’s cheeks. “I would never want to hurt you. But if you don’t take me back, then there isn’t any reason for me to go on being hurt.” It was the right thing to do, he decided. It made sense. No Danielle, no reason for living. Even the alcohol couldn’t take away the pain.

                “Bryan, you’re scaring me. Tell me you’re not actually considering suicide.” Danielle’s voice had a touch of panic in it now.

                “I’m dead serious. Tell me that we’re over and I’ll leave. I’ll be out of your life forever.” He let the words hang in the air for a moment. “Well?” There was a sigh.

                “Bryan… I don’t want that. I love you.” Happiness flooded through Bryan. “Look, can we talk tomorrow? I’m a little… drained.”

                “Of course baby. I love you too. And I am so sorry.”

       
          Relationships. It's the word that makes everyone either cringe or grin like an idiot. Or both. Let's be clear though, relationships can be anything from friends to family members to pets. But I'm talking about "romantic relationships". Those things that tend to drive us crazy and make us do stuff we don't normally do.
          Why is that? Are we so desperate for approval that we'd sell who we are so someone will fall for us? I think everyone's been in that place before, where you put on a front and tailor your every word and action to impress the person who you have feelings for. Deep down, we all know that you shouldn't have to be fake with the person you love. Relationships are based on love, honesty and trust, so how can we expect to have a good relationship with someone if we aren't honest with them about who we are? I'm not saying that you should unload your life story and all of your weird habits on them the first time you meet them. Relationships take time, and so as you come to know the person more and more, you can come clean about the fact that you like to top Ritz crackers with peanut butter and shrimp. But there is a difference between lying to a person about who you are and simply not sharing it, and that's mainly where we fall into error. I mean, eventually that person is going to find out that you don't actually enjoy sunrise yoga and that you are definitely NOT a morning person. Wouldn't it be easier to be honest and say that you've never done sunrise yoga in your life? Then you might give it a try, but if you absolutely hate it then you aren't bound to keep going because you said you were an expert.
          We do these crazy things because we, as humans, are relational people. We have friends, we have family, we have girlfriends and boyfriends and spouses, because we don't really like to be alone. We like being around other people and being close to other people. Most people want to get married. We want to love and be loved. But there is a certain trap here, one that tests your priorities and your focus. Sometimes, we try to use relationships to fill a void in us. I talked a little before, about trying to fill that God-shaped hole in all of our hearts with this, that or the other. One of the things we use is relationships.
          Relationships can be addictive, and we tend to try to ease our loneliness/sorrow/despair/what-have-you with things that are addictive. Typically, people who are addicted to relationships act desperate, all the time, because they are desperate. No judgement or anything, but that's the way it is. I happen to know some people like this. If they aren't in a relationship they are desolate and inconsolable. They are constantly trying to find someone to date, and every time they find someone, the person that they find (and sometimes barely know) is always "the one" right from the start. I know a handful of people like this. Once in a relationship, they're clingy. Not the kind of "I really care about you, therefore I want to spend more time with you" attitude that is found in most relationships and isn't really clingy, but the "I can never leave your side, I love you, miss you, can't live without you even though we've only known each other a day" sort of thing. I would be surprised if you didn't know a person like this. They either give up on the relationship easily because they want a perfect happy ending, and people are never perfect, or they hold on far longer than they should because they don't want to be alone. Relationships take work but they just want someone to work for them, to take care of them, and when that doesn't happen they complain to no end. It is normal to have a few problems in every relationship, but giving up every time something goes wrong is not the correct way to approach it. Neither is ignoring serious problems because you're worried you won't find anyone better.
          Of course, that isn't to say that sometimes people who aren't addicted to relationships act in some of these ways. Everyone has insecurities and sometimes those come out and are highlighted in relationships. But people who are addicted to relationships act in extremes. And it always happens the same way.
          It may be cliche to say, but it's true. Jesus, being the Savior that He is, is ALL that you need. You don't NEED a person to complete you. If you have Jesus, you are already complete. It's perfectly natural to want to date or get married, but it shouldn't be your number one focus or priority. Just make sure you know where to draw the line. 

Stumbling Over Words, Stuttering When I Try to Speak

          All the time, I get on here to blog and don't actually end up posting anything. It's not that I don't write anything, I do. I have countless drafts of blog posts. But they aren't finished. I don't know why, but whenever I speak on something serious or something that is important to me, I always have this problem. I can't seem to say what I want to say without using too many words, or not enough words, or skirting around the subject and completely missing the point. It's as if my brain is so afraid of saying the wrong thing that it goes into a panic and I over think what I am writing about or can't think of anything at all.
          So, I thought that the best way to get around this was to just sit down and write a blog post all the way through. No stopping for breaks, no editing. It might be random, it might be awful, but it will be finished.
          I thought I would write about my difficulties with writing. Sometimes, paralyzing fear of saying the wrong thing keeps me from saying what I want to say. Words are so powerful, and I know that they can hurt as much as they can heal. And hurting someone with your words is much, much easier to do. Sometimes, when I write, I wonder if I will accidentally offend someone with something that I've said. Unintentionally, of course. I would never want to offend anyone. But it's easy to take things out of context. Sometimes, I get tongue-tied. My mind floods with words, explanations, commentaries and criticism and in doing so I simply can't say what I want to say because there are too many ways to say it. And I know that doesn't make sense at all, but it is what happens. And then there are the times when I just can't think of the right word. At all. And so a sentence remains unfinished because I just don't know what to put next.
          Yes, I know what you're thinking. This has got to be the most pointless blog post ever. But bear with me. I'm trying to get to the root of my writer's block, and nothing helps me better than thinking out loud.
          Or listening to music. Really any combination of the two is helpful.
          The thing is, this is not just a problem I have when writing. I often have this problem when I speak with other people. Which then prompts them to ask if I am listening, because I am so lost in thought.
          Honestly, I'm not that rude. I'm just... scattered.
          Is there any way around this other than just blurting out the first things that pop into your head? Writing the first word that enters your thoughts? I wonder if it is possible to train yourself to think in such a way that writing and carrying on a conversation becomes easier. But is that really something you would want to do? Is it such a bad thing to put a ridiculous amount of thought behind what you're going to say? If you speak all the time (or write all the time) and say meaningless things just because you felt like saying them, is anyone really going to listen to what you say? Wouldn't it be better to mull it over and to make sure you use exactly the right words? I think that words carry more weight when they are considered before they are flung out into the public eye.
          Of course, over-thinking your words leads to another danger, something I believe I have addressed before. In our obsession with saying exactly the right thing, do we err in saying nothing at all? If we don't speak because we don't believe we are saying something absolutely perfect, isn't that just as bad as saying the wrong thing? We aren't perfect. So nothing we say is going to be perfect. But where is the line between openly blurting every thought that crosses your mind and considering what you're going to say so much that you end up silent?
          It is something to think about. Something to work on.
          As for now, I have spoken enough, I think. A new post, and my writer's block is gone. Perhaps I will work on those drafts later and post them. I would hate for them to sit there forever because I didn't know how to say what I wanted to say.

Back to Blogging

     So if there were any people periodically checking up on my blog I'm sure they've all given up by now. I haven't posted anything for a long time. But I have been so busy! 

     Enough excuses though. I just want to write. But what to write about...

     I'm going to try something a little different. Normally I like to blog about semi-serious issues that are relevant to other people, but today I feel in the mood for a short story. Since I have virtually no inspiration whatsoever, it probably won't be very good. So here goes nothing...

     A Day in the Rain: 

                Rain. Everywhere, the great, fat drops fell and rolled and dropped again until they landed on the over-saturated pavement, making large puddles. Nothing was safe from its aggressive downpour. People, strangers, hurried by, anxiously tugging at their coat collars and trying to keep their umbrellas righted. As if offended by their pitiful attempts to save themselves from the inevitable, the wind blew an especially strong gust, causing all but the most determined of umbrella-wielders to lose or break their only protection from the storm.

                A pair of sharp, catlike eyes surveyed the dismal scene from an unassuming perch and gave a small chuckle. People could be so fragile sometimes. A little rain, a little wind, was nothing to be afraid of. And yet, here was this supposed “technologically advanced society” running around like chickens with their head cut off when a little moisture presented itself.

                Oh, the irony.

                Slowly, as if enjoying every sting from every raindrop, a figure unfurled itself from the narrow space between a building and a car and stepped into the grey, wet world that surrounded the tiny spot. A quick gust of wind blew the figure’s hood back, revealing a very untidy-looking young woman. She reached back and pulled her hood over her head once again before starting down the street at a leisurely pace. She had a mission to complete, but there was no hurry. The entire world around her was in a hurry, and she was the calm and collected one.

                It gave her a feeling of control. Something she was not used to feeling.

                She continued sauntering down the sidewalk, invisible to panicked passerby, practically running for the safety of their homes, or their jobs, or their cars.

                And then, in a moment of wild, giddy abandon, the girl threw her hands out and tipped her face skywards, embracing the harsh winds and rain. These were the moments she lived for. And this moment all the more precious because it was her last moment of freedom before everything she knew came tumbling down around her.

                She was prepared for that though. She didn’t know if she would ever fully be able to accept it, but she was prepared for the absolute worst.

                Her slow journey took her several blocks, past nice apartments and dilapidated houses, a school, a church, a strip mall… life in full force. But everything she passed looked deserted. Humanity had decided to hide, children called in by their mother’s and anyone older than the age of 12 hiding inside somewhere, as common sense told them to do. Maybe with a book, in front of a fire. No, no one did that anymore. Most likely they were huddled on their couches with blankets, watching reruns of TV shows that didn’t really bear any significance. It was pointless but… she envied them. She envied them their comfort, and the simple luxury of feeling safe. She stopped for a moment next to a mini mart and wondered at that last thought. Had she ever truly felt safe? She wasn’t sure. Perhaps when she was younger, before she could remember. The thought saddened her, and she resumed walking.

                Every fiber of her being screamed for her to turn around, to go back. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t the answer, this could not possibly be the solution. In a ridiculous daydream she imagined someone she considered close running to her, telling her to stop. Collecting her in their arms and comforting her. If not providing an escape, then at least telling her that everything would be okay in the end. She just didn’t know anymore. No such person came, of course. Her feet kept trudging through the puddles and the feeling of control, the feeling of superiority, the feeling of nostalgia all faded and disappeared into the grey mist. But she could not turn back now.

                Five minutes passed, ten, and all too quickly she was in front of the building. She checked the address against the paper in her pocket, twice to be sure. The moment she entered would be the end of her life as she knew it and the beginning of something she could not get away from. It terrified her. But her life at the present moment needed some improvement. And so, with tentative steps, she climbed the short set of stairs in front of the building and knocked on the door.

                Change was coming.       

     And so, out of nowhere, a story about a rainy day. (Among other things.) I have absolutely no idea where that came from. However, if anyone does read this blog still, I would love some... input. Who do you think the girl was? Where do you think she came from? Where was she going? Because.. to be completely honest... I have no idea. 

     What I do know is this: writing certainly is the cure for many, many things. 

Deadlines? Aren't Those Flexible?

     I have never been good with deadlines. In fact, I am pretty sure they now include my name as an example next to the word "procrastination". I have good intentions; it's not as if I set out to leave things to the last minute... it just always seems to work out that way. I am wonderful at starting things on time, but sticking to them? Not really. I am actually surprised that I have four posts on my blog, all within a shortish time frame. But hey, I love to write. And there's no deadline.
     Procrastination is a disease I would not wish upon anyone. It is the reason that things don't get done, or if they do get done they aren't done as well as they might have been or they aren't finished on time... it really is a hindrance to society. Now, I understand that sometimes there are legitimate reasons as to why procrastination happens. Life gets in the way. There are bigger priorities. These, I understand. But laziness and lack of self-discipline is normally the root cause of procrastination. I don't feel like working right now. There's plenty of time before this is due. I would... but I just got a new book and it's addiciting.
     I am guilty as charged. I am a procrastinator. It is not something that I am proud of.
     The problem has been identified. Procrastination is widespread and it needs to be stopped. But how? We would all love to defeat this but... there's a new epsiode of Merlin on so it'll have to wait.
     Perhaps a reward system is in order. Everytime we stick to a schedule and actually complete a task before the deadline, we treat ourselves.
     Maybe a punishment: if I do not force myself to spend 30 minutes on this presentation every night I will not allow myself to go out.
     Why is self-discipline so difficult? We can do the things that need to be done but we put it off and put it off until we are scrambling, trying to figure out how on earth to finish it before the deadline. (Or is that just me? It's entirely possible...)
     This is obviously something that needs to change. I am going to start today, now, before my procrastination can get in the way of my not procrastinating. I am going to proactive, and productive, and I am going to think of more words that start with "pro". (Once you start, you can't stop.) Maybe there's nothing to be done for it besides just gritting your teeth and working through it. Maybe the only way to defeat procrastination is beating it at it's own game. By finishing whatever it is you have to do so far in advance that you are able to actually enjoy being lazy instead of feeling guilty while work piles up.
     Here's hoping that procrastination is something that can actually be cured.