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.   

Is Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder?

I think that one of the challenges that people face today is self-perception. I know so many people think of themselves as un-beautiful and therefore un-desireable.
When did the terms become synonymous?
It's so sad that people think that they are unlovable or unwanted because they don't think themselves "attractive". I know that this way of thinking is a problem for everyone, but from what I've seen and heard and from general experience, I'm going to have to say that it is especially hard on women. Outward appearance, beauty, is something that we are taught to value from a young age. It's the culture we are raised in. The world tells us that if we aren't perceived as beautiful we are worthless. The "successful' people that we see are gorgeous, they have perfect hair, perfect skin, perfect clothes, are the ideal height and weight. And even though we know better, we can't help but look at such people after a while and think "if only I could look like that..." I don't know about you, but I feel so weak thinking that. It doesn't stop me from thinking it from time to time, but I feel so mortified. Why would I let myself think that? I know that outward appearances don't really mean anything, that it's "what's inside that counts", and yet I let myself give into these thoughts.
I know people think that they aren't beautiful. We are our own worst critics, and we strive for perfection. This is a deadly combination, as we are always trying to keep up with ridiculous standards and constantly telling ourselves that we aren't good enough. Everyday we can look in the mirror and be disgusted with the reflection. Who actually believes it when people tell them they look good? Most of the time I don't.
How many times have we told ourselves "they're just saying that to be nice"?
And so, we beat ourselves up, knock ourselves down, and tell ourselves and everyone else that we aren't beautiful.
What. A. Lie.
Psalm 139:13-16
"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."
Now, if we are the works of God, we are fearfully and wonderfully made. We aren't accidents, and we aren't ugly.
He thinks we're beautiful; He made us this way. In His image.
We always say that beauty is the eye of the beholder. I want to challenge that. What if beauty is something universal? There is beauty to be found in everything and everyone, I am certain.
Our perceptions cause us to think that someone is more beautiful than someone else. And it's true that we find beauty in different things. We need to stop believing the lie that we aren't beautiful; men, women and children alike.
You know what I think? Laughter is beautiful. So are smiles. Hugs are beautiful. Compassion is beautiful.
Love is beautiful.
Beauty is not looking like a model. Beauty is not comparing yourself to everyone that walks by.
Beauty is the strength to carry on and know the truth when the world lies to you and tells you that you aren't beautiful.
Choose to be beautiful. Choose to ignore your inner critic.
If you know that you are beautiful because the Creator of the universe thinks that you are beautiful, don't let the world take that knowledge from you.   
Show others that they are beautiful.
Never forget that you are fearfully and wonderfully made, no matter what anyone says.

Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace

       Life has a tendency to leave us afraid, wouldn't you agree?
       I'm not talking about average fears of tangible things. (Fear of spiders comes to mind... or maybe clowns.) We are constantly striving to be perfect, and so we have a fear of failure. A fear of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, or the fear of not saying something and missing out on an oppurtunity. The fear of being alone. The fear of being unloved. The fear of being fake. The fear of being a hypocrite.
       The list goes on and on. I'm sure you could add any number of fears to that list. I could.
       We are so afraid of messing up that we walk around on eggshells all the time, trying to live without regrets. The thing is, in all of our carefulness we forget that a life well lived is full of mistakes.
       Before I sound completely callous by saying that, let me elaborate. I understand that some mistakes virtually ruin people's lives. But, how many times have we heard "without risk, there is no reward". (Answer- a million or more.) It's true though. We live our lives ruled by our fears and so we don't take risks. We live in a safe, comfortable little bubble where everything seems perfect and fine and nothing can hurt us. How dull.
       Now, I started thinking about this particular subject for a completely random reason.
       Recently I receieved a Taylor Swift CD as a gift.
       Yes, that is completely random, but it isn't exactly off topic.
       I loved the gift. I am a hopeless romantic and most of the songs appeal to that side of my personality.
       Being the person that I am, I read the booklet inside of the CD case. The album is entitled "Speak Now" and in the intorductory note, Taylor Swift explains why the album is so entitled. Here's a little excerpt:

       "Words can break someone into a million pieces, but they can also put them back together. I hope you use yours for good, because the only words you'll regret more than the ones left unsaid are the ones you use to intentionally hurt someone.
       What you say might be too much for some people. Maybe it will come out all wrong and you'll stutter and you'll walk away embarrassed, wincing as you play it all back in your head. But I think the words you stop yourself from saying are the ones that will haunt you the longest.
       So say it to them. Or say it to yourself in the mirror. Say it in a letter you'll never send or in a book millions might read someday. I think you deserve to look back on your life without a chorus of resounding voices saying 'I could've, but it's too late now.'
       There is a time for silence. There is a time waiting your turn. But if you know how you feel, and you so clearly know what you need to say, you'll know it.
       I don't think you should wait. I think you should speak now."

       Now, I could pick just about any song from this album and tell you how it related to me. How it touched me because I've experienced or am experiencing similar emotions. But this note at the beginning struck me the most. I am the worst offender when it comes to leaving things unsaid. I am so terrified of making an idiot of myself that I don't say how I feel. That's just pride.
       I guess that's why I started this blog. It is far easier to speak your mind to a faceless internet audience than it is to an actual person.
       As 2011 comes to a close, I've been thinking a lot about things that I would love to change about myself in the new year. I would love to take more risks, be bold, speak my mind even if it means that I look back and cringe at the stupid things I've said.
       But, as long as something is said in love, as long as it is not meant to hurt someone, and if it is weighing so heavily on your heart that you feel the burden every time you leave it unsaid, don't you think it better off spoken than left inside? Even if you are left feeling like an idiot after it's all said and done.
     For me, I feel like actually saying the things on my mind is a dream too far off, too unrealistic. But I'm going to try. :)

New Year, No Regrets

Emptiness (Part 1):

                It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, she thought miserably as she stared in the mirror at the large bruise forming around her eye. Life was supposed to work itself out. Wasn’t it? Everyone had always told her that she could be anything that she wanted to be. She could have anything she wanted if she worked hard enough. She just wanted happiness. But happiness seemed to elude her all the time recently.

                How long had it been since she had noticed the emptiness? A few months… no, closer to a year. She was so bored with life. A perpetual hamster wheel of nothingness… the same people, the same routines. Her dream of starting her own small business fading slowly as the obstacles began to stack up. She had worked hard. She deserved to live her dream.  

                Fat, ugly tears began to slide down her cheeks, and her mascara blurred underneath her eyes.

                No, life was not supposed to be like this.

                And then… three months ago she had met Bryan. A smart, handsome, athletic guy who was three years into college and coached a little league team. An absolute sweetheart, everyone agreed. They had met by accident, she had filled in for a friend at her job and he came in to order coffee… and stayed for two hours, sitting in the window, smiling at her every time she glanced over. After her shift was over he confessed to her that he was trying to work up the courage to ask her out.

                She grabbed the brush off the counter and hurled it at the mirror, but it bounced off harmlessly and landed on the floor, mocking her.

                She had fallen for his sweet, shy act. Why couldn’t she see what a jerk he was from the beginning?

                Everything was great. Everything was fine. Too bad Bryan was an alcoholic.

                He had been going to AA for awhile, trying to stop. But he had never told her that. And he decided, two months into their relationship, that he liked drinking too much to stop. And sure, everyone had their problems. She had her fair share. But why hadn’t he told her?

                He was a monster when he drank. She had a few friends who would go out and get absolutely wasted but they were the harmless type; singing Shirley Temple and Britney Spears songs and running around the parking lot with their pants around their ankles. But not Bryan. He became angry, sometimes violent.

                Like tonight.

                She didn’t know he had been drinking. She only wanted to confront him, to ask him to stop. For her. Her ignorance had led her to believe that if she asked him to stop, he would. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t.

                Her eye began to throb with the memory, as if only the thought of the injury caused the pain to worsen. She had told him she would leave him if he didn’t leave the bottle and come with her to get help.

                And so he had hit her.

                In the face.

                She had only wanted to be happy. Why had this happened?

We all have an emptiness. We all have a hole that needs to be filled. For this new year, I want to lean on Jesus to fill my empty void. Because nothing else will work. Anything else will leave us empty, looking for our next fix, our next relationship, our next drink, our next anything that seems to give us temporary happiness.

There is no way I can guarantee happiness for myself or anyone else for a year, or a month, even a minute. Life is hard sometimes, and bad things happen. But I know that there is Someone greater than anything this world can throw at me, Someone who can give me peace and hold me through my heartaches.

My new year's resolution is to surrender everything I have to the one who gave me life. Because my Savior is the only one who can fill my emptiness.