From the Outside In

Ok, a month has gone by and I've had nothing to say... But this is not to say that there's nothing to talk about.

The Czar and Queen are moving! The Czar has moved OUT OF STATE, a clear 3-hour plane ride away, and the Queen will follow in a few weeks. You'd think the very notion of freedom, in the metaphorical and now physical senses, would shove me into utter giddiness. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited as hell. But it all feels very strange at the moment. It's like I'm watching my life unfold, only I'm not really in it.

I've been wondering lately why it is that I don't get overwhelmed with emotions like I used to. Don't get me wrong, the anxiety of pending relationship doom will send me into a tailspin, but where's the quickened pace of my heartbeat when a road trip is coming up. Or the screaming, jumping up and down elation when I hear great news. Or even just telling the story really, really loud? No?

Maybe it's just the pure weight of what those things mean. It's exciting, of course, all that's happening or going to happen in the next few months before my nuptials. But there is a LOT that is changing. The biggest transition of my life (up to this point) is now coinciding with the greatest and maybe most permanent experience of separation in the single, most painful relationship in my life to this point, too. And it's not as simple as opening presents on Christmas morning. The joy of separation is also fused with grieving the end of very significant phase in my relationship with the Czar, the fear or anxiety of what's to come and the big responsibilities of being a wife and then a mother... These are crazy big changes!

I can hardly wrap my mind around it right now. But the bottom line is that there could be no better way or time for all this to be happening. Maybe more explanations on why that is to come soon.

I Do Solemnly Swear...

This weekend, I will

• not worry about the wedding.
• not worry about my parents' opinions/emotions.
• not worry about making everyone else happy.
• eat well, but not unhealthy.
• drink a lot of water.
• go to the gym and sweat hard.
• not call myself fat.
• compliment each girlfriend I talk to (honestly).
• hold on to a hug just a little bit longer.
• not feel bad about abilities.
• be thankful for my raise.
• be thankful for my job.
• read my bible.
• read my book.
• thank a friend for being my friend.
• love my fiance, without fear.
• let my fiance love me, without fear.

Mute

I have nothing to say. I have been wondering, though, why it's so hard to remember and hang on to the good (trust, faith, love, hope) yet so easy to let the bad in (doubt, fear, misery, hopelessness). Why is it that I could be facing, eye to eye, a happy and joyful day, and the very next morning (maybe even the very next breath), be overcome with fear for what's to come. Why do I ruin it?

Things are going fine, lately. I'm not sure if it's the very realness of the possibility of the Czar having to move for a new job, but I've been on the receiving end of some random acts of affection lately... and it really weirds me out. I'm suspicious of it. I don't buy it. Regardless, I should not fall into despair because I received a "Have a good day" text.

Every morning this week, I've woken up already in a state of panic. In the shower, at the sink, in my car, the panic follows me. I wonder if this poison can ever be extracted, or is it there forever? Or maybe it's just that I know doom is coming and that anything good has to be patiently waited for. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak.

Eventually, though, even I get tired of holding my breath, peering around each corner. At that point, I have to just shrug my shoulders, grab my coffee, and keep going.

Fancy Meeting You Here

Typically, when something comes along to ruin my day, I let it. It ruins me. Through and through, I give in to the anger and bitterness, and I let it flow freely... in my mood, my words, my thoughts.

Over the last 12 hours or so, I've been confronted with the oh-so-familiar cancer of negativity, but something is keeping me from giving in. I'm still angry and bitter, don't get me wrong. I'm the same girl. But there is a stubborn cheerfulness and hope deep inside me that is refusing to let it consume me. It's like being mad at a friend who has just eaten your last french fry, but they tickle you to make you laugh. You don't want to and you cross your arms and try to frown, but instinctual reactions make the sides of your mouth curl up and eventually you let it burst into laughter. Ok, fine, Joy. I will let you win today, old friend.

Why Do I Bother?

Mother's Day lunch. $150.
Mother's Day bouquet. $50.
Never-ending backhanded comments, vilification, and ingratitude. Priceless.

What a waste. Happy F-ing Mother's Day.

196 days.

The Perpetual "Off Day"

When I was first learning how to drive, my legs and arms would be sore after just a few minutes of driving. I realized that I had been so nervous, all my leg and arm muscles were clenched the entire time. A very physical indicator of my emotional state.

Lately, I guess I just haven't been feeling like myself. I notice I feel like this the most at work and in social situations. When I'm alone or with the boy, I feel a little more relaxed, but should I run into a coworker or acquaintance, small talk is such a chore and I can't muster up the energy to com up with the typical response I would give. I can't make a joke. I can't think of a follow-up question. I feel like it takes years to finally answer them. What should I say?

Nothing. I having nothing I want to say. A friend says that it's because I'm overstimulated, overwhelmed. I'm not free. Maybe that's true. The feeling reminds me of that time in my life where I was learning to drive. I may not have been driving erratically, no accidents occurred, I never hit anything, and no one ever hit me. But sheer nervousness, a complete inability to relax, meant that my body was in a constant state of tenseness.

I keep thinking, I'll be better tomorrow. I'm having an off day. But everyday, I sit here wondering why I feel so "off" or "out of it." Whether it's from holding on so tightly to my sanity that I've exhausted myself, or from holding my breath until the wedding that I'm suffering from oxygen deprivation, I'm tired. I'm tired, and I'm tired of being tired.

Yes, I Know

"Be content with what you have, for He has said, 'I will never leave you nor forsake you.' So we can confidently say, 'The Lord is my helper; I will not fear; what can man do to me?'" (Hebrews 13:6)

This verse and the promises behind it have been repeated to me over the past several months. My mind glosses over the familiarity of it. Yes, I know. Hang in there. It'll be over soon enough. Yes, I know. You can handle this. Yes, I know.

But tell a victim of domestic abuse that, with God's help, they can make it through yet another abusive relationship. Yes, I know. I just don't want to.

I've been trying to tell myself that it will be ok, that I just need to hang in there a little bit longer. I have my bad days, and then once in a while I have a surge of hope, a glimmer of contentment. Whether it's something the boy says, a new voice to speak the same words I've heard over and over, a silent smile from a familiar face, someone who listens without trying to tell me it will be ok... some days, I feel enough glimpses of the truth that I actually do believe I can make it. Of course I can make it. I guess I mean that I feel I can make it... but make it whole.

This is my battle. Others may struggle with demons that take the very clear and discernible shape of circumstances (like barrenness), of people who have hurt them (like cheaters), and any number of other things. My demons look and sound very familiar... they sound like me, the look like me, they feel like truth. My demons are my own inability to believe, to trust, to feel safe, to feel whole, to feel loved, to be confident, to let go, to give back, to give in, to forgive, to love even though I've been hurt, to accept that I will be hurt again, to separate the lie of utter defeat from the truth of hope.