I’ve been hurt. Cut by swords that created wounds deeper than the 170ft fall from Niagara. Wounds that took years to scab up. Wounds that are still trying to heal. I lost all trust in the person I put all my trust in. Multiple times. Multiple people. I sat in places I had no business sitting in; finding complacency in situations I shouldn’t have – all for a false sense of love and adoration. I’ve had love wash away like it never existed; no remnants left but a tongue filled with bitterness and eyes with hints of hatred. It was carried away like a sandcastle in the waves; one minute sitting in awe of the beauty, the next trying to chase it to the shallow end of a lost battle. Gone. Right before my eyes. Multiple times. Multiple people.
I’ve had my gut ripped from my stomach. My security, protection, and esteem ripped out with it. Butterflies let loose and murdered in the sky. I’ve cried on the bathroom floor with a bottle of wine, blurting out curse words to God, wondering “why me, why again”. I’ve sent angry text messages and set pictures on fire. I’ve smashed glass dishes on the kitchen floor. I’ve been forced to pick up the remains of my shattered heart and piece them back together, while picking up shards of the shattered glass. I’ve lost joy. Lost love. Lost self.
I’ve been broken. To pieces. Heart, soul and spirit – ruined. I’ve had hope ripped out of me as if it had no home in my heart. I’ve felt less than more than I could count. Disputing that such a perfect God would protect such a broken soul. I’ve been insecure. Uncertain. Self-loathing. I’ve been taunted and teased, letting the words of people just as broken as I, determine the level of my brokenness. As if brokenness had levels. As if they had a right. I’ve been lost. Unsure of my purpose. Unsure of my future. Unsure of the being that laid in bed at night. Unsure of who I wanted to become when I woke up – or if I even wanted to wake up. I’ve pinched my love handles and sucked my gut in. At 175 pounds, and at 140 pounds. I’ve been not good enough. Not smart enough. Not cute enough. I’ve been low. Scared. Anxious. No matter what I tried, I’ve been not there. Not her.
I’ve been emptied. Of all of me. Of all my goodness. Poured out onto the streets of despair, led there by life. I’ve utilized all my resources and not been replenished. I’ve been left with nothing, while watching others flourish. I’ve been called crazy for wanting more. For expecting more. For demanding more. I’ve been without my sanity. Been without solution. I’ve been lonely. Secluded. Isolated. Hearing my own screams. Listening to my own voice. In a room I was sure I’d go crazy in. Clenching on tightly to my blue bear, looking for an escape. Or a friend disguised as a resolve. I’ve searched for answers in the arms of boo thangs, that had no business being anythang.
I’ve been in pursuit. Of love. Of God. Of myself. Searching for beautiful things in bad places. Hoping to clench on to a mere piece of all that I was searching for. Flipping tables and opening the wrong doors. Trying. Fighting. Sulking. Seeking light in the darkest places. Not understanding that the more I ran towards that darkness, the more I was escaping the light that was chasing me.
Life has flipped me upside down and right side up. Turned me around then turned me over. I’ve been there. All of there. Often. But I’ve also been here.
I’ve been healed. Redeemed. Restored. I’ve been forgiven. Loved. Held up. I’ve been graced. Favored. Covered. I’ve been protected. Purposed. Prepared. I’ve been persistent. Strengthened. Victorious. I’ve been created. Corrected. Accelerated. I’ve been appointed. Anointed. Helped. I’ve been increased. Blessed. Selected. I’ve been planted. Plucked. Pruned. I’ve been selected. Serviced. Secured.
I’ve been there. Some days I’m still there. But I’m also here. I’m also conquering it. I’m mastering it. I’m encouraging myself through it. I’m enjoying it. Learning through it. Living through it. Every single day. And I encourage you to run...shout…jump with excitement that though you’ve been there, you’ll also be here.
Yep – you’ll be here, too.
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This post is part of Kimolee Eryn's April writing challenge, #AllWrite2017. For post prompts, click here.
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