I feel like I’m in a spiritual wasteland.  I don’t know which way to go – I feel paralyzed.  I feel empty.  I feel afraid.  I feel ashamed.  I want so much, probably too much.  Everything has fallen apart and I don’t know how to get it together again.  I know God needs to be an essential part of that, but I don’t feel like I know how to reach Him anymore.  I’m not sure He wants to be there.  I know He loves me, but He must be awfully disappointed.  Intellectually I know that there is forgiveness and the He’ll accept me back, but emotionally I feel like I have to do something to earn it.  I don’t know how to reconcile the two.  One step would be to go back to church, but again, I am afraid.  I have trouble with groups.  I never feel like I do or can fit in.  There are two churches I might go to – Church of the Savior (COTS) in Ambridge, PA and Seeds of Hope (Seeds) in Pittsburgh, PA.  I don’t feel comfortable at either of them.  COTS would be harder to go to since it is in the morning.  I don’t do mornings very well.  Knitting Mama and her son go there along with her niece, who was recently baptized there.  Seeds is more casual and has a greater sense of community, IMHO.  There are more people my age who are willing to talk to me, something I’ve never found at COTS.  However, I feel like an outsider.  I feel like I have black marks against me there.  Terry, for one.  Another would be that kids intimidate me and I don’t know how to deal with them.  Kids and youth are the main focus of a lot of Seeds ministries.  There’s also the fact that a lot of them, including all the ones I was close to, are paired up and many have kids.  Multiple kids, in some cases.  I don’t have a problem with kids; they just scare me.  I feel awkward around them and am not sure how to relate to them.  Those are some of the reasons why I don’t want them.   I guess I almost feel like I don’t belong because of that.  Also, I’m afraid the people at Seeds are angry at me for disappearing.  There are other reasons why I don’t exactly feel right going.  I don’t feel like I have the money to give.  I know I should trust Him and let go, but if there’s one thing that scares me most, it’s running out of money.  I also cannot be involved during the week.  Most church activities are in the evenings on weekdays.  I can’t do that.  I work in the evenings on 4 weekdays and recently for part of the 5th as well.  I know I need to breach my comfort zone and just go.

Of course, the things going on at work don’t help.  I really feel like I’m back in 5th grade when all the popular kids decided to hate me and the rest of them either joined in or avoided me to avoid their ire.  I feel like that’s what is going on at work.  People don’t talk to me, especially the people on my shift.  Some of the have been rude or passive aggressive and make me uncomfortable.  Someone, I don’t know who, but someone decided that they didn’t like the fact that I didn’t take my break with them and complained to my supervisor so now I have to.  It’s not like they want me around and I’m not hurting them.  My supervisor knew I did it and said nothing, so why should it bother them?  But no, someone wants to make me miserable.  And it is just me.  The other people who take their breaks late still do, as do the people who take their breaks early.  I just wanted some peace, some time away from them and it was taken away from me.  There is one person who will talk to me, who isn’t upset and doesn’t hate me for typing harder than the average person, but I only sit with her on Thursdays.  Thank the Lord I can just put on my headphones and listen to whatever is on my iPod.   It has gotten easier.  Some people have broken the wall of silence and asked little things about my wrists when I was wearing my braces and one was asking about overtime.  I talk to security on the way up to my car and Thursday night I talked with a pharmacist who was riding up with me.

I know it’s my fault.  I’m awkward.  I’m uneasy around people.  I’m used to being left out or pushed out.  I almost expect it.  I’m not outgoing.  I’m not pushy.  I don’t speak up.   I don’t grab the spotlight or insert myself into conversations. Unless I truly feel what I have to say is vital, if the opening for my snippet passes I don’t bring it up.  I’m quiet.  I think.  I’ve been told I come off as a snob.  I’m not.  A lot of times I’m scared.  I’m not comfortable around loud groups of people.  The better I think the people around me are, the less comfortable I am.  I’m too serious and too literal.  People don’t talk to me and they don’t start conversations unless they want something most of the time.  This includes my mother.  I don’t talk about me unless someone asks most of the time.  People don’t care about me and don’t want to hear about me.  This is where I talk about me the most.  I keep so much inside.

I want what I see my friends have, but I no longer think it could happen to me.  I’m not sure I can ever be a strong Christian.  I’m not sure I’ll ever belong. I’m not sure I’ll ever find someone supportive who won’t take more than he gives.  I give too much.  I’m not sure there is someone who is willing to accept me and not take advantage of it.  I don’t know that I’ll ever take that chance again.  I’m sick of starting over.  I’m tired and overwhelmed and I will stay that way for at least the rest of the year. I see no other choice.

Right now I’m saying I’ll never date again.  Every time recently I give too much, get too little, and end up broke when it’s over with.  Who knows? I may end up on the street before this is over.  I saw Mom’s list of rules and since I’m working full time I have to pay rent on time every month.  Which might just mean not paying the minimum payments on my credit cards every month which is just going to ruin my credit even more and increase the already long projected time to pay them off.  And no, I don’t use the damn things and haven’t in over a year.  Well, once, for groceries because I didn’t have my debit card.  So if I decide not to pay her, or not pay her on time only God knows what will happen.  And Tom was telling me yesterday that things are going to get better.  What a load of crap.  Of course he was also telling me that people making minimum wage can manage to live on their own so why can’t I?  Yeah, I wanted to belt him.   If he actually gives me money between now and when we move out I might be able to afford my inspection and car repairs.  I might be able to get the alignment done.

I don’t know what to do. I’m not really sure if I have the time or energy for a second job.  Nor am I sure what I’d be able to do.  And it seems that everyone and everything wants me to donate money to something or the other.  *sigh* As if I didn’t have enough to feel guilty over.  Maybe I can sell some of my books, though I hate to do that.  Yeah, life pretty much sucks and I don’t see it getting better.

I’ve broken up with Tom.  I haven’t really said anything about it here because I’m not sure what to say.  He stopped acting like he loved me.  I kept having to take responsibility for everything.  He broke promises to me.  We would fight daily, multiple times a day.  I don’t really think we have that much in common.  I feel like I have to do it all with little or no help.  I wasn’t happy in the relationship.  People are shocked that I broke up with him.  Sometimes I am, too.  I don’t want to be with him in that way anymore.  I’m having to train myself not to be quite so concerned, but not calling him has been rather easy.  There are a lot of things I’m not happy with him over.  I’m losing a lot by breaking up with him – my independence, my privacy, my days off.  I’ve worked on 13 of the last 14 days.  I’ve done more than 8 hours of OT during the week along with double time on Sundays.  My wrists are killing me.  The house is a mess and I actually feel like doing something about it, but I don’t have the energy.  I’m planning on working 2 hours post shift every day this week along with 5.5 hours on Friday.  Then I will be work at least 3 hours of double time each Sunday.  Hopefully, this will help with the backlog on the bills and get things straightened out financially.  I’m going to have to work around 10 hours of time and a half in for the next 6 to 8 months to make ends meet and I don’t necessarily know if that when it would end.  I have so many bills and so much responsibility and a lot of it is due to this relationship.  When will I ever learn?

Back to God, I kinda feel like He wants me to suffer.  I don’t know where or how to find the peace that everyone seems to think Christians should have.  I don’t hurt on the inside as much as I thought I would, but I feel empty.  I feel lonely and isolated.  There’s a part of me that just wants to be left alone and there’s a part of me that just wants to connect with people.  It’s hard, though. So many of my friends are moving forwards with with their lives and are such strong Christians.  I feel like such a failure next to them.  I know I’m not supposed to compare myself, but I don’t know how not to.  I’m not satisfied with me.  Heck, I’m not even sure who me is.  It’s been a long journey since last March and it has changed me.  I’m still searching for answers and I don’t know where to find them.

I’m debating moving my vacation and moving back in with Mom sooner.  Tom wants to continue on as roommates, but I don’t really think I want to do that.  I don’t want to be his convenience.  I don’t want to be taken for granted anymore, although I know Mom will do that as well, to some extent.  Of course, she’ll love me.  There aren’t clearly defined roles between Tom and me.  So much has changed and I don’t know where it’s going.  There’s so much of my life that I’ve lost, so much of myself that I’ve lost.  I want to get back to God, but I don’t exactly know how.

So you all know about Tom, but you probably don’t know what’s been going on with me.  Let’s start out with depression. I’ve been trying to find something that works for months.   Zoloft was the last one and a week or two ago I started getting incredibly motion sick when I was driving.  So as of last Saturday, I’ve not been taking any antidepressants.  Let me just say that withdrawal sucks.  The withdrawal from the Zoloft in particular.  I think that I’m still feeling some after affects of it.  I did see Dr. Cutlip today and I do have some stuff at the pharmacy, but getting it isn’t a priority.  I’m going to try going without for another week or so.  I’ve been medicated for over 10 years and I want to see how I am without it.  So far it’s been going okay.  I was actually a lot worse on the Celexa.

Of course, that’s not the only thing that’s been going on.  This following paragraph may contain TMI for some of you, especially the males in the audience. (Wait, do I even have males in my audience?  I really don’t know….)  Since I tried Yaz last summer I’ve been having horrible, horrible menstrual cramps – mostly in the back but sometimes in the abdomen as well.  I did go back to the original med, but that didn’t help.  For another reason altogether I switched to a more high estrogen birth control and again, no change.  I’ve complained about it every time I’ve seen my doc.  Last time I saw her she said it can take 3 cycles for the meds to help (not that it ever has taken that long before) and she told me that she would prescribe some Cataflam (she didn’t – I ended up with meloxicam).  For months on her recommendation I’ve been taking the drug of the moment starting several days before the period and cramping starts and it hasn’t helped.  I’ve tried etodolac, meloxicam, Tylenol, and ibuprofen and it doesn’t seem to help.  Only heat or the whim of the uterus seems to make a difference.  Finally, out of frustration than anything else, seh sent me for a pelvic ultrasound.  I had it Friday (oh yeah, that was interesting) and I got the call from the doctor yesterday.  Well, I guess I would have to say Wednesday now though I haven’t gone to bed yet.  I was told that it showed fluid in my pelvis probably from a ruptured cyst and that if I had pain with my next period I should make an appointment with my gynecologist.  Luckily (or unluckily, depending on your view of the world), it’s that week.  I wasted no time and called Dr. Labuda.  Now the practice that takes over a month for a colposcopy and three+ months to schedule an annual exam got me in tomorrow.  Two days.  Yeah, they’re not worried or anything.  Nothing serious there.  So yeah, I’ve been in terrible pain the past couple of days.  My uterus seems to be working incredibly hard at times.  There’s only one problem – I’ve had more blood from paper cuts than I have this period.  Although a little bit more showed up tonight.  Not even close to normal.  Wonderful – another thing to worry about.  And though I don’t know that it’s related, I do know it’s not typical of me that I’ve become very bloated.  As in up a pant size bloated.  I was bloated for my doc appointment and I had actually lost 0.6 lbs.  Someone please explain that to me.  Oh, did I mention that WebMd says next to nothing about ruptured ovarian cysts and absolutely nothing about having severe menstrual cramps but not having anything to show for it?  Nope, not able to put my mind at ease that way.

So yeah, I have to get up at the crack of dawn (for me), drive Tom to his MRI, go to the doctor, hopefully get Tom from the MRI, drop him off at home and then go work for 5.5+ hours.  Not to mention that I might have to make another appointment for something else or even go to the hospital (yes, that was brought up by a nurse friend of mine).  I’m sceduled to work 6.5 hours tomorrow and 3 hours on Sunday, if OT is approved and I don’t have  a health reason to not go in.  Somebody shoot me now and get it over with.

There are days when I don’t really like my life. Well, it’s not that I don’t like it, it’s that I don’t find it all that impressive. It usually happens around the time I see my sister. She showed up on Thanksgiving and wouldn’t you know it, I’ve been cry-y all day. She noticed that I had lost weight, but freaked when she found out I was off of my low carb diet. She asked me if I was engaged yet and then proceeded to tell me that I should wait six years before getting married. I guess she really doesn’t want me to have children. I’ll be 36 by then. That’s a little old for that type of thing. Mom had us when she was 30 and 32 and was the oldest mom at the bus stop. I guess it’s a good thing I don’t want kids. Not that I know when I’ll every get proposed to. Tom is insisting on buying me a diamond even though I’ve told him that I’d be perfectly happy with an Epiphany engagement ring. Then again, I don’t know how I would afford a wedding. I have so much debt. And I never could afford one that could compare to my sister’s. I do have a gorgeous wedding gown that I love with all the trimmings (though I would have to find the shoes), but…I don’t know. She had her’s at Phipp’s Conservatory. I could never afford a place that nice. She had everything so nice. Our CA relatives (and their children from various parts of the US) flew/drove in for her wedding. Including our 92 year old grandfather. I don’t think they’d do that for mine. Debbie flies out and sees all of them all the time. She knows our cousins and our cousins children. I don’t. They would come out if Grandpa was coming because we all know our time is short with him. If he came to this coast for anything (cause most of the cousins are in MA area) they’d come for it. I don’t think he’ll be around in 6 years. Of course, it may be six years before I can afford a wedding. Tom wants a big wedding, too. I’m thinking more of sneaking off to Vegas or Fl or one of the Carolinas and getting married. Maybe on the beach. No pressure. I’d fail, but I wouldn’t fail in front of everyone else.

I feel so lonely these days. I rarely see anyone. People are too busy to see me. They have families and children and lives. I don’t think I have much in common with them anymore. We have memories, but they all are from years gone by (think high school and college). They don’t invite me places (though the Steel City Knitter did invite me for Thanksgiving). Once again I feel like I don’t belong. Tom loves me, but he’s away for most of the week and goes to bed before I get off of work every night. Mom loves me, but she’s an hour away and again, goes to bed before I get off of work. Dad and Kathy love me, but I think they are the busiest of them all. Kit Kit and Jack love me. I get kisses from them. But I’m having a rough day and I don’t feel loved right now.

All through growing up great things were expected of me. I was an honor’s student, in GATE clases and advanced science and math courses. I sang, which I don’t do anymore. I was in musicals. I performed. I took part in things. I was in advanced classes in college as well. It was expected that I would go into math or science and do great things, make money, and make people proud. I didn’t do that. I changed from meteorology to English in college and then dropped out. I started temping and fell in love with data entry. I got a good job at a bank downtown earning a lot of money and I didn’t like it. I hated it, in fact. So I went back to data entry. I moved up in my data entry position and am now making more than I did at the bank job, but come on – it’s data freakin’ entry. Not complicated. Not difficult, unless you count reading handwriting as difficult. Although, it’s not. I love my job. I do it ten hours a day, four days a week. I’m fairly good at it, too. But I don’t do anything special, or complicated, or important. Debbie went to college, learned to fly, graduated early, got a job as a pilot, moved up in the ranks, married a pilot, has a house, makes money, is not in debt, and doesn’t have a huge list of failures in her portfolio. The only ones of those that I’ve done is gone to college and moved up in the ranks. Not especially impressive. And apparently I’m bossy, too. And know-it-all. Both Mom and Tom said I was. No wonder the ones who truly want me around are Tom, Mom, Jack, and Kit Kit. I don’t think I would want me around either.

God has promised to take care of us. He knows us all. He counts every hair on our head and knew us before we formed in the womb. He takes care of the sparrows and tells us we are more important than the sparrows. He tells us not to worry what we are to eat or what we are to wear – he clothes the grass of the fields spledidly and feeds the birds of the air. How much more will he take care of us. If we have faith in him he will provide. My trouble has been having faith. He has not let me down. Every month there has been enough. I just get so scared that this time there won’t be.

I’ve been feeling like I’m not a part of this world, but I’m not a part of the world of the believers. Part of this as to do with the fact that I haven’t been to church in about a year. I went tonight and I feel like I’m connecting with them again. I don’t feel so alone. I had a great time talking with Amanda. I trust her. She is definitely one of God’s chosen. She has that glow.

One of the things that really got to me tonight was that God is trying to protect me and will, if I let him. I’ve been listening to the cries of the worries and not to the reassurances of my God. I got a picture, as I often do, of me being surrounded by a forcefield of God’s protection and the worries standing outside of it shouting. They couldn’t touch it without being destroyed; all they could do was yell and scream. They were very loud, but I knew that God was there whispering His reassurances and love and all I had to do was to focus on Him. Tonight I could. I don’t think it will be easy. I’m trying to figure out things that I can do to listen better. I *need* to listen. I need to hear my Father’s love for me. It’s the only thing that can get me through this dark time. Now that I know He’s there and I have that picture to hold on to, I think I can. But I’ll be going in baby steps. One baby step at a time. I think God will honor that.