Collab 3: Adrift

Lost.

These days sometimes make me feel like I'm alone at sea. I'm on a boat (not with T-Pain) in the middle of the ocean. Maybe more like Raft simulator style where I'm on a raft and have to cobble together my survival day after day. I keep getting lucky. I've pulled in enough debris to make a raft big enough to move around on and I have some supplies, but there's still no escape and the dread follows me.

Am I am bad Christian? I am trying to give God what I cannot handle. I am trying to do what I can, as a human being, to control what I can (me) and give the rest to God. But I'm still scared. I know God has all things in His hands, but I also know I can't predict the future and that i was never promised an easy life. God's in control, and I'm grateful. 

I spend each day trying to find the good and see the blessings. My husband and I are essential workers, so we're blessed to have our jobs. We can still pay bills. I am grateful. We still have our little home. I am grateful. So far, no one in our family has caught the virus, and many of them can still work. 

There is so much to be grateful for, but then I can't shut off my constant stream of thoughts. I cant quiet my brain when it points out any time anyone coughs or the number of adults claiming they know best or that we shouldn't have to wear masks or how they want hair salons and dog groomers open because how can they live without a haircut or their poodle mix getting groomed.

How can we be so selfish?

And how can we be so rude? Letting panic make us animals to store clerks or gas station attendants. Complaining about rescheduling appointments  or homeschooling. (At least teachers are finally be recognized for all the work they do.)

All I want is to protect my family. I will wear a mask. I'll go to work. I'll continue to obsessively wash my hands (as I always have). I'll wait longer. I'll reschedule. I'll try my hardest to be patient. I will do my best not to pick fights about politics.

I'll do my best.

I'll still be adrift, but eventually I'll find somewhere beautiful. In the meantime, I'll try to dream

Nothing lasts forever.

Collab 1: Blender Brain

Here I am
scribbling notes again
Chance encounters during errands,
pictures in old cabinets
sometimes the past feels
too close

Do you ever wish
she was me?
Sometimes I wonder
what you could possibly
see in me (like every day)

My beautiful eyes
and that perfect
"Doctor Who" quote
It means the world,
but I still ache to
hear you say
"You're beautiful."

I've seen her picture
She had your heart
(and more)

You love me,
I know it's true,
but I still don't
understand how you do

Am I worth this trouble?
With all my flaws and faults?
With all the ideas and beliefs?
With my brokenness, my mental health and
this busted up body of mine?

Can you see what I can't?
Because I have an ache in my heart
from the smiling stories
of all the old times I missed

My own story feels like
darkness broken by up by stars
until you showed up
and the sun rose running golden
into afternoons that feel
like home and childhood and
front porch talks

But I still find myself
laying here
singing "Hey, Jealousy"
and hating my brain,
when you smile and take my hand
"Forever and ever...no more privacy."
And I have to laugh
We are our own story
and I am beginning to realize
this is the start of something
I get to keep
and it will never end

When Do I Give Up?

When do I give up?

It is late.  I should go to sleep.  I need to be up in about 6 hours.

I spent some solid time adulting today.  I balanced my checkbook.  I did laundry and dishes.  I sorted papers and got some stuff recycled.  I called a friend.  I did my homework for work.  I packed up my work bag for tomorrow.  I read quite a bit for the adult summer reading program.  I caught up on my Bible reading plans.  I ate some fruit.

But you know what, I don't know if any of that really makes me feel better.  Everything feels eerily quiet.  I have no doubt it is my own doing.  I have a bad habit of kind of shutting myself off from people at some point and not remembering the way back.

It's funny because I'm the person who will buy bobby pins and extra make up wipes to share with everyone in a show or pack baby wipes and extra mints and hand sanitizer because I know everyone will want them at camp, and I like doing this.  It makes me happy to make the people around me breathe easier even if they don't seem to realize why.  Normally I don't mind the quiet of no one noticing, but it would be nice if just one person did.

I am tired.  I am tired in the Dean Winchester sense of the word tired.  I am tired to my bones and carrying some sadness in them because I live too far away from the people I'm truly close to, and I have improbable luck with the good friends I have here.  Of course, that's probably my own fault as well.

Right now, even while typing this, I am composing a to do list in my head of all the things I need to do better at so that I can feel human again.  It's a list of places I feel I'm failing and all the things I'm so sure will cure these issues.  Tomorrow I'll wake up too early for my personal happiness and go to a job that feels fairly thankless and try to remind myself that I'm less than 2 weeks from my trip to Ohio.  Nothing else should matter.  I just need to survive till then.

Plus, tomorrow is another day, right?


Favorite things of this very moment (10:17pm CST):

• Having ordered my latest t-shirt from Represent for Jared Padalecki's AKF campaign benefiting the Orlando victims (at least I can do something to help, even if it's not nearly enough)
• Fans
• My black bermuda shorts (even if it still seems weird to be wearing them...such weird pale legs)
• The adult summer reading program at the Mt. Morris Public Library
• Agnes & the Hitman
• My paycheck (not huge, but it's something)
• Calle's advice on boys
• Polite, if somewhat heartbreaking, response back from adorable boy I thought might be a good thing (apparently not, but he was kind)
• Having the aggravation known as Care to Learn's done on time
• Cool night air which should mean I sleep tonight 

Day 7: Calle

Dear Calle,

Thank you. 

I don't know if I ever told you this before (or anyone really), but I was suicidal off and on the whole spring I lived in South Carolina. I've fought depression since I was about 13, but I'd never been that low. It wasn't even that I wanted to kill myself...I just didn't want to exist. I didn't want to feel ashamed of the total failure of CofC. I didn't want to feel the gnawing ache of loneliness or feel heartbroken and jealous that the man I thought I'd marry was living nearby with his pregnant wife. I was, undoubtedly, a train wreck of a girl. The reason I tell you this is that you were one of the reasons I held on tight. 

Calle, I think you kinda saved my life. 

Little sister, words cannot express the comfort I found in your presence and laughter and the hours we spent watching NetFlix (and Dyson's handmade vests...delightful). You were what helped keep me going because I knew I was able to do good things for you like picking you up from school whenever your mom managed to forget or talking walks or listening when you needed advice. Taking care of you in little ways and growing our friendship helped me remember how much hope is left in the world. 

God only knows what I'd have done without you. You have been such a huge blessing. 

Thank you for continuing to challenge me, pray for me, laugh with me, confide in me, and listening to me. God has blessed me so much through you, Cal. I love you so much. 

Thank you. 

Love,

Jaymin

Go to Sleep.

I should be asleep. If I just put this stupid iPod down I probably could go to sleep, but I've got a lot of little half-finished thoughts scurrying and maybe sending them out into the universe will silence them for the night. It's worth a try, right?

First, what if I'm not the Beauty, but the Beast instead? What if I'm the wreck someone has to see through? What if I'm the one who needs to learn to love and somehow win someone's love in return or I'll be stuck like this forever?

I watched Beauty & the Beast the other day while I was watching Piper, and the thought's been rumbling around in my head. I remember reading Twilight for the first time and relating to Edward's "what if I'm not the hero, what if I'm the bad guy" line better than almost anything else. What if I really am damaged goods? What if I never find a way to be the good in me and instead become my dark? 

Second, sort of, how many times do you need your heart-broken, to be looked over, rejected, invisible, second best, the back up plan, best friend, or forgotten before you give up or your heart just dies? Because I may have hit that mark. I'm starting to think I really may get no bigger role in this story than comic relief/crazy aunt/awkward, invisible side-character. I am so blessed with my family and friends, but what am I trying for? I realized today that it's been nearly a week since I wore make up or earrings/jewelry or did my hair or plucked my eyebrows. I look like hell. No one has noticed. Hell, I didn't notice till today. I can't even find it in me to care. I'm invisible, so what does it matter?

And this is what scares me. 

I think I'm letting myself just say to hell with it and giving up because I'm so fragmented. I know I need to keep going. I know I need to be grateful. I know I need to sleep more, spend more time outside, write more, pray more, eat less, and do more to find a new job, but...seriously...what am I working towards?

I've spent the past 8 months of my life believing I had a future and that I'd finally found a place to belong and do some good. This turns out to be a bit of a joke, and I find myself feeling betrayed, completely broke, and moving back in with my parents at 28. 

Third, my grandma's making me a "magic" quilt. I know she is just wanting me to be happy. She wants me settled with my own family, and I love her for that. I just wish it would work. It's insane to hope for though because I still haven't been able to work through the mess of who I am and no one else deserves to deal with this. 

Fourth, the one bad thing about babysitting for Piper is that it makes me desperately want my own kids, but then makes me question whether or not I'd be a good parent. None of this matters since there's no guy in the foreseeable future, but whatever. 

Fifth, I am struggling. In everything. I am tired of answering questions:

• No, I am not going back to SC anytime in the foreseeable future. 

• No, I won't be at ABC in the fall like I planned (possibly not ever).

• No, I haven't been paid. 

• No, I can't pay my bills. 

• Yes, I am looking for a new job.

• Yes, I am still doing work for CofC. 

• No, I'm not dating anyone. 

Those are my answers, and I don't think things will change anytime soon. 

And now to sleep. 

Poorly Plotted Discussion of Insanity

I cannot pretend to know the context of Spike's quote here because I am not far enough into Buffy, but I can say this, I understand those words. 

I have been looking at my heart lately and trying to see a future. I look at my heart, and I worry. I am not the woman I was a year ago, and I still haven't decided if that's something I can be happy about. 

A year ago I was scared because I knew I needed to find a new place, and I realized the little family I'd created, though completely fantastic, didn't need me like I needed them. This is not a bad thing. They were a unit, and they needed to be, but in the end that meant I needed to move. So I let myself get talked into moving even further from my family because I was told I'd have a home and a paying job. All I wanted was a job I could support myself with, and a home. 

I still am struggling to believe that I made a good decision. I'm struggling to believe that any of this is actually what God intended for me and that I didn't just screw it up. All I want is to know where I land is home, and to walk my path faithfully.

I know my heart. I know my desperately longings. I know the darkness I stave off and the darkness I am tired of fighting. There are days, too many days, where I wonder if I'm still human. I think it's the depression that tries to convince me that I'm a monster and that things won't turn around, but it's hard to say. 

I just want someone to hold up their end of a story or promise or idea. I'm sick of being the last one paid, the last one picked, and the one people use as a source and not the story. 

Either treat me like an adult and the "wonderful" person/friend/employee/lovable creature I am or tell me the truth: that I'm a jerk or a monster or not worth your time or whatever. At least then I will know what's worth giving up. 

In an attempt to start healing myself up (or to give myself a little time to do just that) I've decided not to text or contact the men in my life first. There are a few exceptions to these rules, but in an effort to stop pretending I'm important to at least one of these guys, I think it's wise to cut myself off. 

In an attempt to start clearing away the bitterness and "what if's" in another section of my life, I got the materials to make a gift for the new baby of an old flame/former best friend. I am hoping that if I can channel the residual good and love from our relationship into something for he and his wife's first kid...maybe I can finish walking away without tripping over a pit of my own bitterness, longing and loneliness. Maybe I'll actually heal a little. 

This may just be insanity or stupidity, but I hope these two ideas help. It would be nice to be in control of at least s little of my crazy. 

Favorite things of this very moment (1:27 am cst):

• The breeze coming through my window

• The sound of crickets

• Sleeping in my jean capris because I forgot to do laundry

• Having some good plans to look forward to this week

• Summer night sounds

• Vicks Puffs tissues

(44) Never Meant to be Alone

The truth of it,

the crux of the matter,

is that I'm reaching out 

my hand in the dark

& I'm praying 

you're reaching out too

We're not meant to be 

alone

We should never feel 

alone in a room full of people

or lost amongst people we love

Don't assume I don't feel joy

over new marriages, jobs, houses, babies

or that I'm not glad

your life is going well

My happiness doesn't change my joy for you

it just tints the view of my accomplishments & dreams

Depression isn't a foreign concept

I was just hoping

I'd shored myself up this time

that I was strong enough

to fight this alone

but I'm not

No, I'm not drowning

& I can still see the stars,

but I need new focus

new hope

Renew my spirit, LORD

Show me the hand to hold

the safe places & harbors

you've blessed me with

& a light so I'm never

alone