I started this blog as a way of taking a baby step (maybe a big baby step) towards living life. Facing my pajama life existence in the eye, not hiding, and defying the burdensome chains of shame, guilt, and judgment. Surely there was a place on the battlefield for a limping, weak, pajama clad warrior!
It was like talking to myself, speaking into an empty cyber void of silence, but letting my voice at least be seen and heard as bearing witness to my own self. It was meant to be an experiment for catharsis and self-accountability. I knew someone might see it.
Imagine my surprise when someone made a comment, then another person, and then another. Interesting and amazing women, the kind of women that I’d absolutely love to meet up for coffee with, go to dinner with, get to know and become friends with, were reading this blog.
Ah… your words. Your stories. Encouragement. Laughter. Insight. Tears. What a gathering!
Exodus recently made this comment: “Oh Pj’s, I’m really really tired. I’m so broken and broken down that I can barely function anymore. I wish that I could find someone who would be willing to give me a break..someone with a little cottage to rent and someone willing to hire me. Sadly, I wouldn’t even hire me PJ’s. I mean, I can’t hide my broken spirit anymore, it’s visible in my face, the way I carry myself now and I when I speak, it’s strained as if I’m too tired to talk. Yet, there is that glimmer of hope that caused me to leave two weekends in a row. I am trying to revive myself and reincarnate into something better but then, I come back home and it’s all the same shit, the same ole broken record. Thank goodness I have all of you and this place to share. ” [italics mine]
Exodus, you’re not at all broken here. Your spirit is beautiful and strong, and your voice is clear. Keep stashing that money and hoping. I believe in you, and I think I can safely say that ‘we’ believe in you.
I do understand. It’s how I feel, and why I fight and fight in my own way, but feel so blanketyblank stuck. I’ve often longed for for a cottage where I could recover. Safety. Peace. Haven. Healing.
My health and stamina are so bad at this point, that I have no idea what job I could actually ‘get’ and then ‘do’. So I understand that too. I think back to the young me that thought so little of doing so much, and I wish for her health and strength once again. Even for a month. A week… a day! Give me back that me and in one month I might move a mountain. Why did she not see this coming?
I fight against despising myself. I don’t recognize myself in the mirror.
And then I find myself wanting this miracle, someone to see past all that and help me believe that I have viable reason to hope and believe that I will get stronger, get healthier, and actually one day experience living more to my own potential. I think I don’t quite see and believe that. I’m faking it until I make it. I want to believe that one day, going ‘out’ will be simple, not this anxiety ridden exercise of despair because nothing fits. I don’t fit.
A normal person presents simple, normal solutions like… Go to the thrift store and buy clothes. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not at all against thrift stores. I used to love them. But right now… I just want to wear my own jeans again. Whether I go shopping at a thrift store or a mall, I just want to leave my house the way I used to. I want me back, but today I’m sitting with my injured knee iced and propped and slugging down aloe vera juice.
Struggling to care. To believe. To not be afraid and sad.
The other night when I smashed my knee, I was weeping from physical and emotional pain. The physical pain made me want to scream loudly, but the inner pain, the crazy spike of fear and despair made me in that moment wish that someone would just shoot me. I really just wanted to be done with pain and fear and despair. Let me say clearly that I would not consider suicide or that kind of self-harming. But it doesn’t mean that I don’t understand feeling that way.
In responding to Exodus and others, newshoes said: “We all live in a permanent state between ambivalence, confusion and hopefulness that keep us in a relationship that can never be sane or loving…. NONE OF US HAVE TO ACCEPT THIS. I’m going to pray tonight that we all get clear minds from each other and perhaps we might be able to move towards something better… I know now that I’m not imagining all of this up, it’s real and it hurts..”
I share that sentiment and hope and prayer. I hope we all find strength and hope here. I hope we all move towards and arrive at something better.
I still blog for catharsis and accountability, but now I wake up thinking of you all, and coming here to meet you. To hear how your day and weekend went. To hear your victories and disappointments, and to listen to your hearts in this place to share.
Thank you all for being part of this. Whether you’re an official follower, someone who’s hit a Like, left comments, or just reading silently in camaraderie… just thank you.