In the Mirror

Sorry, Sean. You weren't completely right. If you were, this might be a lot easier. Yeah, I don't really love myself, but there's more to it then that.

Dr. Reynolds hit a lot closer to the truth when he said that I hated myself. There's a lot of that in this. A lot of disgust for the deeds I've done, a lot of loathing for the lies I've told myself and others, a lot of hate for the hearts I've hurt.

I think it's even deeper though. I don't want to love myself, because I don't think I'm worth it. I don't believe I am loved. Why would I be? Anyone who has loved me has been hurt by me, been smothered or rejected by me, been used by me. Anyone whom I have loved has blessed me and bruised me, held me and used me. I've gotten to be ok with this.

I need to stop being ok with being hurt and hurting. I need to be able to wake up every morning, look in the mirror, and say, "Screw this, I am pretty freakin' awesome." But I can't. Because I don't believe it. And I'm not really sure where to start to learn how to believe it. I think I've been hurt a little too much, hoped in a few too many failed ventures, tried to stretch my wings and just strained my shoulders.

I think...I really don't hate myself so much as this creature I see myself becoming, and the world that's made me become so.

I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord. Be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord.

Psalm 27:13-14

cause hamlet-ing is inevitable when you're me

in a place. a place that feels empty. the same place i've been for a very long time.

and i don't like this place. its a little too dark for me. a little too lonely. a little too hopeless.

but...i'm not quite sure how to get out. honesty, maybe? admitting that this is the place where i am and where i need to be?

but...i'm not quite sure i want to be honest. to take off the mask. cause honesty means being vulnerable, and being vulnerable means getting hurt. and i've been hurt enough.

to be or not to be. to go numb or to keep feeling everything, both pain, and eventually, joy.

to live or just cope. a thousand decisions and revisions and indecisions. because i cannot act unless i decide. and i can't decide. either to commit emotional suicide, or to keep stabbing the knife into my heart.

they say i've gotta swim when i'm not so sure i'll survive. so why swim?

im not ok. and im not ok with not being ok.

if i knew who i was, then maybe i could love myself and love people. i just want to love people. but i just want them to love me too. im tired of working to earn love. but how else do i get it?

i'm not sure who i am, but i don't think it's someone lovable. so i need to create a new person to be, one that they'll love.

being me is killing me. but so is being someone i'm not. being alone is killing me more quickly.

i can't go numb, so please come get me rescued.

"I'm finally numb, so please don't get me rescued."

-Jack's Mannequin, Rescued

a meditation on Liszt's b minor sonata

Dissonance, dark descent into

Despair, tumult of chaotic

Cries for resolution. Abrasive

demand for attention, pulling

at my ears to pay heed

Release, deceptively sweet

Ethereal hinting at desires unfulfilled

Insistent interruption of a low note subsides

into melancholy meanderings, sliding

into triumphal meditations to the minor

Shifting in and out of demanding

dissonance and airy whispers of tension.

Pull and release, tension between

silence and sound, soft and loud,

heaven and hell. But man lives in between.

Passion and power escalating to

simultaneous heights and depths

Open wanderings, significance in space

and silence-pauses can say as much as sound.

But sin can creep into the spaces

Trembling tremelos, with passion or fear or strain

to uphold the tension, strength and silence then

softness building into surety, sliding into

running water and notes and thoughts, falling

heavy downwards and leaping up to silent stars.

SIn creeps in whenever we start to soar.

I see the light. The cross. My saviour, my God.

Because I can't use facebook

I now have a tumblr too...

musicaltorreymiss.tumblr.com

life and all that jazz

Paper=done. At 3AM. And...I think I might be wrong. But hey, I just rewrote my thesis on Saturday afternoon, so that's not bad considering. New paper maybe? We'll see.

Sleep=whatevs. 4 hours...I can deal with that. Good times with friends...probably some pretty crazy times today when I'm totally sleep-deprived and crazy.

I'll Make A Man Out Of You-apparently it's Quadratus' theme song. And the song that never fails to get a carload of people to sing dramatically. Disney for the win.

Life is getting better. Tense, but better. People are pretty awesome.

I think I don't have to know what love is to be able to love. That's sorta nice for me :) But I also think I know a little more about love than I used to. That's also nice :)

Should

I should be writing my paper.

I should be healing.

I should be resting.

I should be learning what God brings to me.

I should be sleeping.

I should be forgiving.

I should be loving.

I should be loved.

I can't really write a good paper.

I'm not allowing myself to heal.

I'm only pretending to rest.

I don't know if I'm really learning my lessons.

I'm definitely not sleeping.

I'm trying to forgive.

I want to be loving.

I am loved.