College Retreat Saturday

I'm at a point in this where I no longer want to fake it. I want to give an honest answer when people ask "How are you?" I don't want to put up a wall, wear a mask, and lie about the condition of my soul. I don't even want to sing when we worship, because I know it's not genuinely to and for Him; it's just because singing is something I enjoy (especially in a group).

I don't know where to go now. I don't feel any sort of direction for my life, and there is an endless wall between me and God. Our relationship has been stagnant for so long that sometimes I fantasize about leaving; the town, the state, maybe even the country; in desperate hope that something in my life would change.

I don't know how to bridge this gap. I've told Him "I need you to fight for me". I've even said "Fight ME". There is nothing in me that gives me the power or the will to do it on my own. "Break down my walls. Break down Me. Captivate me. Show me your love. Give me Something. Anything." All these things I've said, yet there seems to be no response. My soul feels so tired and worn down. I can't fight on my own anymore.

All the things I know in my head to be true about God are the same things that my heart refuses to believe. This is not something words can fix; I need Him to intervene in a drastic way.

College Retreat Friday PM

*The next few posts are going to be some journaling from the weekend retreat I went on with my church college group last weekend, as well as some follow up journaling from the week after. These writings have come from a place of truth and clarity, and I am posting more for my own record and security than anything.*

Worthless is my core lie, although I sometimes feel I have more than one (such as Failure). Worthless causes me to feel like I need to fight for the Love and Respect I think I deserve, because I've been trampled and treated like shit my whole life. But that's just my lens. My mom's lens is that I was a difficult child. My dad's lens is that all women are stupid objects to be used, not worth the same as men. This attitude transfers (consciously or not) to his daughter; Me.

I'm used to endless nagging litanies of what I've done wrong, as well as explosive, violent outbursts for something as small as not replacing the toilet paper roll. So it stands that this sort of treatment is what I grew to expect; not the outward behaviors exactly, but the root lies behind them. That if I didn't do things right, I deserved to be treated badly. Conditional love based on not being a Failure. Also, that I had to walk on eggshells; I could not stand up for myself, because doing so would risk my own physical harm. I was (am) not considered valuable enough to refrain from damaging. Worthless.

These core lies, Worthless, Failure, create a cycle in which I feel like I need to work for and earn Love and Respect, which turns into despair from Failure telling me that no matter how hard I try, it will never be good enough. And the cycle continues.

These lies transfer directly to my relationship with God; and that is where Fear comes into play. Fear tells me that this cycle will somehow become true in my relationship with Him. So I build up high walls and behave as if it IS true (which Fear would have me believe is inevitable). I hide from Him and harden my heart because I am so deeply afraid that Fear is right: that Worthless and Failure and here to stay, and will infect everything I Love.

For me, It's not Over

Every once in a while, I remember you. Deeply. I don't mean I think of you once in a while; I do that quite often. When I remember you, it hurts. When I remember you, I forget the rest of my life.

All I can think about is how my heart would leap when I heard your voice. How it felt, the truest joy to be around you. And your smile, your genuine laugh. How perfectly safe I felt in your arms. Listening to your heartbeat when you held me. The profound connection during our conversations. The pieces of yourself that you gave me make it the hardest to accept. You revealed your soul to me. You confided in me, trusted me, respected me, valued me. Loved me. You told me so many times, and I always felt the truth in it.


It's been almost 2 years since I told you. I exposed my soul to you.


"When our souls meet the ones we are meant to be with our souls never forget."

Never forget.

Never forget.

The thought fills me with hope and despair.

There are 3 options with this statement. One is that it's true for us, and that you will realize this, which is what I desperately hope for. The second is that it's not true for us, and that my heart will eventually realize it and let go, which would be immensely better than the last option. The last option is that it IS true for us... but you decide to deny/ignore/bury it for the rest of your life. This would be the worst option, because a part of my heart would never be able to move on. You would live your life, but my soul would never forget or fully heal.

I'm remembering you now, and wondering how long it will last this time. How much more pain do I have to try to bury? Will I ever be completely free? Or will I cycle through being fine for a while then something triggering me forever?