It seems that we always find ourselves "caught between a rock and a hard place." While I will be one to always say that a life without challenges is a life that hasn't been lived, I will not say these situations ever give me any peace of mind. So here I am once again. Caught. Not in some crazy love triangle, or amidst two paths that determine my future, but in my own emotional entanglement. Every time I find myself deeply changed by circumstance, sometimes making it hard to understand who I am, what I want, and where I am going. I don't feel that there is excitement in the unknown, but an all too familiar uneasiness that difficult situations tend to create.
Someone will get hurt. Regardless. I suppose there is always a casualty or two. Oftentimes, one of those casualties is me. Responsibility is one of those words we dance around, grow into, and then make part of ourselves. I have basted myself in such a word, itching at the very stench it has left on my skin. "God does not give us a test that we cannot pass" they say. Well he certainly drives us to the edge for purposes we may not understand at the time. So I reflect on where I am now and wonder what sort of training this bootcamp is leading me to. Something better I hope, but life doesn't take a break or wait for you to catch your breath so I keep running.
I never know how to ask for help. I suppose it hasn't been cultured into me. When I have sought advice its been a disarray of bias opinions that do very little but further complicate the moves that I am trying to make. It is hard to learn from past mistake, when every situation has rendered completely different variables. No two experiences are they same, nor do they end the same. Not when we are dealing with people. This isn't about ordering the same plate, despite not liking it, and learning from your personal bad decisions with food. This isn't about learning what looks good on you. Or even about discovering that doing drugs kills brain cells. Those are obvious lessons that are learned through a couple encounters. Now, the only help I can really put my money is God, but I feel a little out of touch to say the least. He loves sinners when they repent, reminding us that we can not get through life without him. Abandoning him is a state of weakness, but I feel my line of communication is fogged with my own discontent.
One road leads to decades of explanation, of undeniable discomfort in the faces of others. While it may leave a temporary smile on my face, I have read enough, seen enough, heard enough to know that it will be wiped off by a whole slew of possible holes in the plot. While the other road leads to temporary scrutiny and a deja vu of emotions. I have lived my life fairly unreciprocated, letting few in and fewer past the gates of my own fears. I do not particularly enjoy vulnerability, nor do I feel it is something I need to embrace, but it spins itself into cobwebs by the eight legged vermin who calls herself reality.
The first thing I have to face is my own heart. She has a prowess unbeknownst to me and she rectifies herself in an intimidating light of past and present. They tell me to listen to her and rely on her judgement, but we all know how juvenile that concept can be for people like myself. To love or be loved, that is the question. Unfortunately I have never settled for one without the other and I don't know if I ever will.
