A Thread

Here's how it feels:

I used to be great.
Life used to be great.
Life used to have a very hopeful undertone.
I'm no longer great.
Life is no longer great.
My hope has turned to doubt.
So why is it "worth it"?
And what am I holding on for?
It makes sense to die.
Why doesn't everybody want to just die?
I'm full of shame.
Full of fear.
Full of regret and anger.
Resentment.
I resent life and living.
It seems time to die.
But a thread is keeping me from hanging myself.
What is that thread?
I want it to become a platform to stand on,
or I want to cut it and sever the grasp it has on me so I can feel only certainty,
certainty that it is time to die.
I want to be done.
I don't like this.
I want to kill myself.

But that thread is worth looking into.
It will become a platform.
The thread hasn't let go.
I'm being held up.
kept afloat.

Girl, go search after what that thread is.
Girl, this is the meaning of life.
Girl, you won't regret this.
Find that one thread.
Make it your life.
Because nothing else is worth living for.

And it is much much more than just a thread.
It is the tallest mountain, the deepest ocean
The biggest hug, the softest heart
It is a platform on which to stand.
And much more than that, too....

Go find out for yourself.
Seek this one thing that is keeping you going.

What else do you have to loose, right?

Things Are So Different

Here I am now, (Hi!), as an 18 year old on my 15-year-old-self's blog. It's interesting and kind of funny to me, but I'm not sure why.

But, you know, I was just writing about how my entire life feels surreal and how things aren't the same. How things used to be kind of ok. And when things were not ok, I still had hope, lit as a flame in my soul, and so I knew that things would get better and that things would be ok. Today, that flame is small. Barely kept alive by a few glowing coals.

That's why it's funny to me, to be here, on this blog again. Things are so different. I am so different...

 I'm always changing and growing, but at a certain point, probably sophomore year when I attempted suicide for the first time, the changing and growing became a strange battle. From that point on, it's been me, (wherever the real me is), fighting this body and this mind and this spirit--   Fighting to hold onto what's left of the me I thought I was and the world I thought I had.

But why can't I just accept who I am today instead of longing for the past? I feel that I shouldn't. Who I am today is full of doubt, shame, fear, feelings of hopelessness and helplessness, constant anger deep within, and restlessness for meaning. And that's good... I need God. I need Jesus and His sacrifice to mean something. He is the only one who can fill this huge void.

Yet, as I said, doubt. I crawl instead of running in this foot-race. What I mean is, I sleep all day, I go on the computer, I listen to my favorite bands, I do what I need to do, but at the end of the day I am empty and wanting, waiting and drudging, but prepared only to drag and crawl slowly through the next day, never making attempts to accept the one who will carry me and run for me. He'd make everything worth it. I know that.

 So why don't I know that?