I am in the weirdest place. Technically, I am the happiest I have been in a very long time. But you combine that with sleep deprivation and hormonal spikes, and it's hard to keep a firm grasp on everything that's good. Explanations? Ha. Well ok then!

I am pregnant. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

This might seem like the natural course of events. First comes love, then comes marriage, then... we all know the end of the rhyme. The problem was that I never thought I'd reach that point. I had been told for as long as I could remember that I would not be able to have children without extensive medical help. Not having the money or resources to make that a realistic option left us with the simple truth. It's up to God.

Well, God decided that YES, he wanted me to be a mother. Everything I have ever wanted is at the very tip of my fingers and I can almost reach it. It's extraordinary. The problem is the empty spaces. There seem to be a lot of them whenever joy makes its way into my life. It's almost as if when I am happy, I let my guard down, and the darkness sneaks in. It snakes its way into the quiet places in my heart that lay dormant until I lay my head down at night. That's when the attack begins, and I can't help but dwell on everything my mind wanders to in those nightly moments of seclusion.

It's not a mystery that my family has never and will never be anything close to what it once was. I can look back fondly at all the times we shared together, knowing truthfully that those times will never be repeated. They can't be. They no longer exist. Those versions of us no longer exist. We're gone. The family is gone.

I have this habit of grasping onto things until they disintegrate in my hands. I think that's what has happened with my family life. There is a significant level of pain there, while at the same time... I feel numb. If I think too much about everything that has happened or HASN'T happened, I can't control the pain that takes me over. If I keep myself closed to it, I feel nothing. I feel no loss and zero connections. I can feel hurt when I am not included in various gatherings, while at the same time I can safely tell myself that I'm not missing anything.

I have found happiness with Conrad and his family. They have accepted me and include me in everything. I've missed that. I've missed feeling cared about. It's nice to matter, even if it's only because I married their beloved youngest son.

Recently I've been struggling to find my purpose in this world. As much as I want to be a writer who tells stories that change the world, that seems like it's a long way off. Instead I am a newlywed soon to be mother who works full time for a dry cleaning company. The glamour is definitely lacking from this scenario, but I'm content nonetheless. Whenever I had felt like I had no purpose before, I would immerse myself in church volunteer work. Recently that has become less and less possible.

I was the drama director for First Lutheran church for the better part of ten years. I had an identity there. I had a function. I was a contributing member of the congregation, rather than just a face in the sea of people that attend on Sunday mornings. I would write scripts and illustrate live on stage the various ways we are affected by God in our daily lives. I was passionate about it. I loved it. I needed it. I craved it.

I was a single part in a well oiled machine. I served a vital function. Over the course of several years, they slowly upgraded their machinery. My function became less and less necessary. As my job faded, so did my identity. Live drama was replaced with high tech videos. Everything exists on a screen. Live, vital emotion was replaced with well rehearsed watered down platitudes. This wasn't me. I had nothing to contribute. I resigned.

Now, I am no one. I do not exist. My sister Sunnie married into one of the more prominenet First Lutheran families. The only recognition I receive now after 12 years with that church, is my connection to that family. My name has been replaced once again with "Sunnie's Sister."

To make matters worse (for me...much better for her) Sunnie has taken on a position of childcare within the church on a semi-full time basis. She has a very tight knit connection to the "inside" church community. My inside ties have moved on for the most part, so I am very much left on the outer fringes. My sister once complained about the cliques within the church, not realizing that she is now very much a part of one.

I have given it several tries, trying to work my way back into the community. It's been to no avail. It really is a struggle to create a brand new identity when the majority of the people you are surrounded by believe that you and your sister are the same person.

I have stood in groups with my sister. Several women stood directly in front of me, with their backs to me, as if I were not standing there at all. I felt like I was being shunned. They didn't even notice they had done it. I noticed. I couldn't help but notice.

On Thanksgiving, I was approached by a woman I had seen several times before. She talked happily with my sister while I sat beside her for over fifteen minutes. She didn't even glance at me, until I moved to put my coat on. She smiled warmly, and thanked me for visiting First Lutheran. Afterall, it was so kind of me to visit and keep my sister company while her husband was working. She saw the look on my face and asked me if I attended regularly.

"For twelve years," I answered dryly. She admitted to having never seen me before. I knew better. She thought we were the same person. Honestly... yes, there is a resemblance, but seriously. I am much taller, we have completely different bodies and hair colors. Get with it, people.

I have visited other churches, but it's a scary endeavor. It feels like high school all over again, and you have to find your group. There are so many already well established groups, and you have to make the first approach. It's terrifying.

This past Saturday, I had a dream about First Lutheran. It was unsettling to say the least. I woke up scared that I may have made unfair judgments, and maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought it was. I woke up determined to give it one more chance. I arrived at church and dove into the swarm that is the common area in the front of the church. Anonymous. That's how it feels now. That's how I feel. They have everyone fill out a name tag now. I wrote "CORRIE CORDOVA" in large bold print, and displayed it proudly on my sweater. Here I am. This is me. I dare you to think I am my sister.

The whole way there I prayed for a sign that I was still meant to be there. I sat down by myself in the Fellowship Hall and continued to pray. Not long after, I was approached by a woman. She sat next to me and proceeded to talk to me excitedly.

"Oh, I am so glad you're here! I was hoping I would run into you. You have been on my heart for awhile now. I have been praying for you non stop. How have you been?"

I answered her questions, and was genuinely touched that this woman had been thinking of me. My heart swelled with happiness. Was this my sign? Was God answering my prayers? Did I belong at last?

"I think you would be an excellent addition to our Titus 2 ministry." Then she began telling me about the ministry that largely had to do with older women mentoring the younger women in the church. "I just want you so badly to be a part of it."

I was grinning. I couldn't help it. It felt good. It felt SO good to matter. I told her that I would love to be involved, but I wasn't sure how much I could commit to. Then I told her that I was four months pregnant. She cried out happily "Another blessing!" I was confused. Well yes, my unborn baby was a gigantic blessing. What other blessings was she referring to? She saw the look on my face, and decided to ask the question that I had been hoping would never be asked again.

"You're Kathy's daughter-in-law, Sunnie, right?"

I almost laughed. She had to be kidding. Really? I saw her look at my name tag. She couldn't be that dim. Was she serious? My heart plummeted as I pointed to my name tag. I couldn't answer with words. I shook my head curtly. "She's my sister." I managed.

"Oh my! Well, open mouth and insert foot. I'm sorry about the mistake. Well, I suppose you could come too if you'd like. Could you do me a favor and make sure Sunnie knows about it? We really want her involved. Congratulations on the baby," she muttered before scooting away from me as quickly as possible.

Shortly after that, the worship pastor introduced himself to me for the 12th time. "Have we met? I'm..."

"Yes, Chris. I'm Corrie," I said while pointing to my name tag again.

"Oh right. Sunnie's sister."

Ding ding ding! Nail on head. My new identity. My new OLD identity.

"No," I spoke to myself after he left. I answered my own unspoken question. "No, I don't belong here."

People I had once been very close to barely look up when I greet them. I don't know when or how it changed, only that it did and I don't fit there anymore. It's time to move on. As painful as it is, it also feels like a relief. I get a fresh start. I get an identiy that's only associated with me.

Hormones didn't help the situation at all. I'm sure I am far more sensitive than I would be otherwise. I am also easily offended. Things hurt that maybe wouldn't or shouldn't... but they do anyway.

The 6 year anniversary of Mom's death came and went without so much as a whisper from my closest friends. These friends have become my family. They fill the holes that have otherwise been left vacant. They are vital... I don't think they know how vital they are.

Maybe the presence of a tiny baby growing inside of me made it feel that much worse, but I still couldn't handle their absence. It's bad enough that they all live out of state. The only person I straight up said something to was Nikki. I knew she could handle it rationally, and look at it from my perspective. That's because she KNOWS my perspective even when I can't see it myself. That's good and bad. That also means she knows how to get away with things if she wanted to. Fortunately for me she rarely wants to.

Those are my hurts for now. Honestly... I am so very happy. I am content. I am joyful on a fairly regular basis. I am adopting new loves in order to let go of old hurts. Someday I will feel complete again. There are things I will never ever get back, but that's okay. New things will come to fill those empty spaces. There are things I will never understand or be able to forgive, but I am learning to live with that. Each day the pain is a little less intense. Each day Conrad finds a multitude of ways to make me laugh. I can feel the tension and longings wash off of me in waves.

I am bringing a baby into this world, and I will give it a life filled to the brim with love. I will not pass on my insecurities or force my child into worlds they do not want to be a part of. I will not try to shield my child from the hurts I encountered by bullying them into submission. They will make their own choices and face their own consequences. I will be there to support them in the aftermath, always. I will not shame my child if they are overweight, but I will honestly share my experiences. I will not hide food and give my child a complex. I can't wait to be a mother. I learned so many things from my childhood... both good and bad. I embrace it all. While my mother had her faults, she set good examples. EXCELLENT examples on both what to do and what NOT to do. It's a blessing to be able to learn from mistakes, even if they're not your own.

Wow, I needed to purge in words. It feels really good to write things down. I may look back on it later and think that I'm a complete lunatic, but that's okay. It's all a part of the journey. All of it.

Life.

It used to be all I could do to keep myself from writing about it. Now I have very little time to even begin to think about putting words on a page. It's sad, really. It's almost as if half of my body is sleeping, but it's at rest. It is peacefully dormant until I spring fully into action, reveling in the joy that true creative journeys can bring. I love words.

As I have mentioned before, I tend to only write when the world around me is crumbling. My world was falling apart the last time my thoughts graced these pages. Where am I now? Well, the lack of entries would suggest that I am happy. I couldn't find a truer statement if I tried.

I married the love of my life, Conrad Cordova on Sunday, September 14th 2014. We had a crazy ride to the altar, but we were always meant to be there. We were surrounded by our friends and family and it was a perfect day. The ceremony fit us perfectly...right down to me nearly choking to death on a bug in the middle of it. Laughter has always filled our lives, so we couldn't leave it out on our big day!!

My friends are one of the biggest blessings I can imagine. We've all been on a ride as well. They've learned and grown with me through all of it, and as a result, I have closer friends than I ever could have hoped for. They are my family. I have created the family I had always wanted. God gave me the family I had always craved. I am blessed beyond belief.

RJ, Nikki, Lauren and Crystal... I couldn't ask for better. I will have to detail all the festivities in another entry. It was perfect. So perfect!!!

Fiction. Fiction, is my life preserver. The minute I allow my head to get lost within a storyline is the moment when I can cease to exist. At least for a little while.

This morning, I couldn't sleep. I gratefully sought refuge within the depths of my DVR, then greedily soaked in the plots of Thursday night's television lineup.

First I sang along to Glee, next up I was swooning over Vampires, followed closely by Reign, and ended with the most realistic family portrayal I've ever seen in Parenthood.

I'm indebted to these television shows, and many others. If only they knew!!

I can't wait for other people to rely on my characters and story-lines just as heavily. How amazing would that be to have that type of impact? That would be a very good thing to focus on right now. I could change lives with my stories. I've never really thought about that before...

MY life has been changed by stories, why wouldn't my stories be able to do the same? It's incredible to think about.

The only thing I've been able to do lately when the world starts spinning is to just whisper "just breathe" to myself as many times as possible so I can calm down. It doesn't have the same effect on me that it did when other people would say it. How could it?

Sleep aids and anti-depressants, and I still can't breathe. I can't wait for something to change. Something really has to change.

I'd be dead right now if it weren't for the doggies. Dodger is my little human child, and his hugs and kisses keep me going. He recognizes things aren't right, so he loves me even harder. If that dog weren't around, I don't know what I would do. Combined with Mele, the entertaining talker, those two precious canines could save the world, I'm sure of it. I miss my little wiggle bug, my bizzy bells. She was my first girl, and I will never not miss her.

I feel like my heart is going to beat itself to death at any given moment. I can be perfectly fine and then bombarded with thoughts, memories, and emotions. I clutch at my chest and say "breathe, just breathe," but it's nearly impossible. There has been too much that has happened over the last six years. Far too much to be able to handle with just a breath.

When emotional pain transitions into physical pain, that's when you know you're in real trouble. That's when you realize that the road you're on is a long and painful one, with no end in sight. My body hurts like it never has before, and I can't relax. Every muscle feels like it's stretched to the point of breaking, because they're all trying just to hold me together.

I look in the mirror these days, and I see a ghost. My eyes are dark and hollow and my face is thin and pale. I look like I'm dying. I suppose that makes sense, because I feel like I'm dying. I thought I had dealt with everything, and that I was going to be okay. If only I had realized that I hadn't dealt with ANYTHING. I could have avoided so many things if I had only realized that.

I try to imagine what my Mom would say to me right now if she were here. The more time that passes, the fainter her voice grows in my head. Sometimes I can't remember what it sounded like. I'm thankful I have videos to look back on.

I need to focus on what I'm thankful for. I was advised to always look for the good, and make lists of what I'm grateful for. I'm trying to get my brain there, but all I can see-- each and every day, is what I've lost. I can't lose anymore, so I suppose the sooner I can recognize and hold onto what I have, the better.

This is the beginning of a rough journey, and I just hope I make it through it alive.

Things haven't calmed down yet. I went to go see someone for the first time regarding my panic and anxiety attacks. I didn't realize just how debilitating they've been throughout the last five years. I always thought it was just something I had to deal with, things I had to feel. I didn't think there was an option of escape. The sleepless nights and over analyzing of everything in my life was completely uneccessary

I cringe when I think of the unreasonable reactions I've had that have tied into these anxiety episodes. Whenever things got really, really bad, Conrad was there. Sometimes the really bad things had to do with Conrad, but I'm still insistent over the fact that he has magical arms.

There was one time when I hadn't cried in so long after Mom died, and I knew I had to. The A Capella group who had sang to Mom on her death bed had sent me a recording of the song they had performed. Conrad had me wait for him to listen to it. I fell apart in his arms. That happened several times with night terrors and panic attacks. I'm sure I drove him crazy. I had no idea how I would react to everything. We drove each other a bit crazy, but we were happy nevertheless. We were in love.

I resisted needing him as much as possible, because his friends already referred to me as the crazy girl who kept having "episodes". I didn't want Conrad to think of me that way, so I did my best to remain independent and get through it on my own. I kept that attitude and have never asked for help from anyone else since. I closed up like a clam and never talked about anything real. As long as I didn't think about it, it wasn't there.

Then everything imploded. I had opened myself up for it, I had torn down the last wall, and it all came crashing in like a flood. I didn't have time to take a breath of air before I went under.

I ended up having my first ever psych evaluation. She asked a lot of bland questions about drugs, alcohol, and family history. She asked about Conrad, and I couldn't speak. The tears just wouldn't stop. She ended up prescribing me Prozac and Trazedone. (a sleep aid, as I hadn't slept in days.)

The Prozac takes several weeks to make a difference, I'm told... so I'm just waiting. She also told me it would make me feel antsy. So that on TOP of the anxiety it is nearly impossible. I can't sit still, sleep, or stop my brain from torturing me.

I've been carrying around a notebook, because for as long as I can remember writing has been my most favorite and effective form of therapy. I wish it were working better! I just keep drafting letter after letter, because I used to believe I could fix everything with a letter. It's making the panic worse.

I can't imagine my life without Conrad... he's my best friend. We do everything together. The problem is that he found someone else. He doesn't know who he wants more at this point, but I can't foresee winning this fight. I want to fight for him, I want to show him that I'm what he needs and what he wants, but I don't know how. I feel like the urgency to fight is making everything worse. I can't lose him... 

I don't know if the writing is helping, but I don't know what else to do.

Help me.

Over the last ten years this blog has served many purposes. It has been a friend when there weren't any people around, it has been a destination when I badly needed a reprieve. It has been a place to sit and rest and decompress as I think of everything that bombards me on a daily basis. One thing that I have come to realize, the longer I've kept this blog, the longer it has become a place of sorrow. I'm more likely to write here when my world is falling apart then when it is going well.

It's amazing to me how easily words flow when you can't even control the thoughts going through your head. When you're even tempered and happy words become a struggle. You can't vent and write freely. The words are much more forced and contrite.

It makes sense then, that here today... months after my last entry, I am once again seeking solace on these virtual pages.

There have been exactly three times that I have been this low, this depleted. This lost. The first time was when my Mom's cancer came back, and her second kidney was removed. That also happened to be when I started dating Andi. I will never forget the details of that relationship, and everything that happened in and around it. It was a nightmare.

The second time was after my Mom's death. I was living alone and barely surviving. Conrad became my anchor and my lifeline, as well as my torture. We didn't know how to love each other, and we hurt each other over and over again. Our roller coaster ride was never ending, but we clung to each other through every dip and turn regardless. Looking back, I don't know how anyone could have loved me. Sometimes I think I forced him into it, just so I could feel it. I needed to feel it. I needed to feel him.

During that second low point, my family was in a complete state of disarray. It was Conrad who was there, and I've tried my best to downplay and minimize it, because no one should need someone else that much.

This third time, I have my Dad and Sunnie, and they are standing beside me instead of against me, and I am so grateful. It's been a tumultuous five years, and as much as I would like to say I'm healthier and stronger now after everything, I think I am weaker than I've ever been. I hope and pray that it changes.

Last week my entire world imploded. I had carefully built up a structure of fragile coping, that was masquerading as happiness. I was barely hanging on, and EVERYTHING caught up with me all at once.

I ended up in emergency counseling for hours and now am seeking psychiatric care. I'm going to be on meds soon, and I think everything is going to change-- for the better.

There are things I can't let go of. People I can't let go of. Love I can't let go of. I am really at a very low point and don't really know what to do at this point. I don't have a single clue.

I think I'm a person split into two people on any given day... and people only like one of the two. They like the Corrie who lives in make-believe land. Corrie the writer. Corrie the creative girl. I know I already said this, but seriously... it's caused me to really go back and re-analyze every disappointing relationship I've ever had. When things were good, it was because I was writing and they were really into it. When things were bad, I wasn't writing, and they had nothing to care about.

Andi was the first person to say it out loud. After he dumped me, he said "I was confused. I thought I was attracted to you, but I was actually just attracted to your creativity."

WOW.

I think a lot of people are attracted to my creativity. That's not overall a bad thing, I suppose... it's just that there's more to me than that, and I wish ALL of it were attractive. Maybe it isn't. I really don't know. Can one exist without the other? That doesn't seem very possible.

I'm frustrated with so many things right now. Last night I dreamed that I had the opportunity to confront a whole bunch of things, and I was incredibly disappointed to wake up and realize none of it had happened. Confront them anyway, you say? I wish that were possible. Nope... it's out of my hands now.

It's a frustrating feeling to feel that you have nowhere you belong. No place feels like home, because there is nowhere you can go where you feel particularly welcome. I'm confined to one room in Dad's house, and that's due largely in part to an intense saturation of cigarette smoke. I simply can't be around that.

I feel like there is always someone rolling their eyes whenever I say anything out loud about my asthma and allergies. The only people who take it seriously are Kelly and Nikki. Kelly... because she genuinely cares and understands, and Nikki because it's her JOB and she knows how serious it can really be. I feel like the rest of my family acts as if I'm making it all up and dramatizing it just for the sake of attention. Trust me. I don't want that kind of attention.

I'm so sad.

I don't even know how to expand on that. If I allow my brain even a second to consider all of the reasons I have to feel that emotion, tears instantly well up in my eyes and I become so overwhelmed that every day normal functions become extremely difficult for me.

Things happened that shouldn't have, and things happened that wouldn't have... if only. It's very very tempting indeed to just give up.

I am worthless. Maybe not entirely, but that's how I feel. I've come to notice something. Well, I suppose I've noticed for a very long time... but I didn't realize how broad it was until just now. My personal worth has been replaced by the worth of my fiction.

Whenever anyone talks to me, regardless of how the conversation started, it always turns to my writing. I am not the one to turn it there. Sometimes it comes across as them hitching their wagon to the star before it rises. The problem with that, is that the star feels that much less inclined to rise, because it's incredibly weighted down.

People could talk to me forever about my books. They don't so much enjoy talking to me about me. There are a select few...

BJ could talk for hours about my characters and plot points and get lost in that world and their personalities. He would ask difficult questions about their development and thoughts... he couldn't even ask me how my day had gone. Compared to my fiction... I am worthless.

When I talk about my book and the possibility of its publication, I am met with excitement, and communications that I had been severely lacking. Everyone wants to know what's new with the book... not so much what's new with me.

When I have a problem that's very difficult and raw, it's averted by a quick reminder "Someday you'll be a famous writer, and..." oh. Okay.

I often get the impression that people want to know me because of my writing, and put up with me because I'm the writer. Maybe BJ only wanted the writer. He only liked talking to her, anyway. "Where are Clark and Lex?" That is after all, how we met. That makes sense... he only liked me when I was the writer. When I had writer's block or was otherwise engaged, he rarely talked to me. I was cranking out chapters of Haunted just to get an email from him in the mornings.

It all makes sense now...

Or maybe I'm trying just too hard to rationalize things.

Why is it that it seems that everyone wants to be in MY life (writing) but nobody wants me to be a part of theirs????

I don't have any of the answers. Everyone likes my characters better than they like me. I can't really blame them... I like my characters better too...

I write to make me happy. I write to at least make myself feel better... I write because otherwise, I feel like my words and feelings go unnoticed, and to write them down means there is a potential witness.

Sometimes my thoughts are disjointed, and even to me they don't make sense. I write them down anyway. There are times when I can go back and re-read everything I have written, and it doesn't make any sense to me at all. I can't remember what I was thinking. There are even times when those thoughts and those words are nothing more than fleeting emotions, and end up holding no truth or value when revisited. I will write them anyway.

I tried to be discreet with the latest development in my life, but now I'm just left in a mass of confusion, because I thought I had everything figured out. I thought everything was finally going to make sense. I was wrong. I was very wrong.

BJ and I reconnected after five years of speaking only sparingly. There were occasional check-ins and comments and questions, but they were limited, and fleeting at best. We spoke frequently when my Mom died, but then it was gone again.

He became a Marine and was deployed to Afghanistan. A strange series of events and supposed signs led me to believe that he was the man God had intended me to be with. We talked, and I went to his sister's wedding in Alabama. It was there that he and I officially decided that the signs were clear, and we were meant to be. We officially started dating February 26th. It lasted exactly three months...

After the initial declaration, something changed dramatically. I suppose you could say it changed well before that. When BJ returned to the country, he didn't call me. In fact, we barely talked at all. Going to Alabama was terrifying, because I didn't have the slightest indication as to what to expect.

It's a strange feeling when you think that everything has finally lined up. It's almost like you drop your guard and allow yourself to relax. Maybe that's what went wrong. I wasn't paying attention.

Our communication dwindled to nothing in no time, as BJ became increasingly consumed with all things military and ministry. He rarely if ever had time for me, and I did not succeed in keeping my feelings and opinions to myself. He started pushing me further and further away, and before we knew it, there was a gigantic wall between us.

I had planned a trip to go and visit him, and communication was strained leading up to it. I went ON the trip, and it wasn't what either of us had been expecting. We hadn't had an actual conversation in so long, that we fell into silence and stayed that way.

Short version... it ended. It's over. The signs were wrong, or we screwed it up. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but it happened.

There was something magical that made it happy, and that was that he had known my Mom and she had known him. That's gone now though. It's all gone.

Moving forward now, I'm not entirely sure where to go. I've adopted a new level of fears, and they're deep and gripping. I'm scared of everything. There is such an extreme level of hurt that I've encountered that I don't know how to overcome that and be a normal person. Normal never was my strong suit. I don't want to continue making the same mistakes. There are some things I want to let go of, and some things I don't.

"So what happens now? Where am I going to?"

Oh, if life were only a musical. I want my happily ever after.

It's been awhile...

I've wanted to write so many times about so many things, and I just keep getting stuck. That's a good word for my life right now. Stuck.

Months ago, life took a dramatic turn. I thought everything that had been on hold was finally about to begin. I threw everything I had into it, and it didn't quite turn out the way I was expecting. I thought I had been given very strong, firm instructions from God, but now I find myself filled with doubt. This wasn't how it was supposed to be.

I have found myself traveling consistently backward, and that's not what I want at all. It seems as if I am in this unending cycle of repetition, and all I want is to move forward. I don't want to keep making the same mistakes and crying the same tears for the same reasons over and over and over again.

Isn't that the definition of insanity? Repeating the same action over and over again and expecting a different result? Turns out I'm insane, everybody...

I feel incredibly judged. I'm doing my very best to trudge along on this extremely muddy pathway, where every line is incredibly gray. Every person I come across has a different opinion and a different judgement, and I've never had such a strong urge to flee everything and everyone that holds any tiny hint of familiarity.

I come from opinionated people, so I shouldn't be entirely surprised. I'm just wondering whether or not it has occurred to any of them that I might be in actual pain. These problems I seem to be endlessly encountering are not without side effects, and I truly wonder whether or not they realize that I am not okay.

Probably not...

After all, I am the master of projection. I can paint whatever picture you would like to see. I had really hoped I was past all of that. I wanted to just be me, and exist in reality. Maybe I'm not meant to exist in reality. When my brain dwells in fiction I'm far more productive, and people in general seem to enjoy me more. That doesn't seem fair, but it's the truth nevertheless.

Where do I go from here? I feel like every avenue in my life right now is filled to the brim with disappointment barreling down in my direction. It's inescapable. I move either way and someone in my family is ashamed of me and will stop speaking to me.

My job is thankless and I can't seem to make anyone happy. It's a vicious and catty environment at times, with a lot of back-stabbing behavior. I'm so over it. Not to mention the fact that it's incredibly low pay for a management position without ANY benefits. *sigh* No medical insurance for someone like me is a death sentence. No joke...

I have no idea what to do about anything. ANYTHING! Seriously, the only parts of my day where I can just relax and not think, are those first precious moments in the morning when Mele snuggles up to my face and licks my nose. Then my brain remembers EVERYTHING after about 15 seconds and it's business as usual. Crazy as usual.

I quit.

Except that I don't. I don't want to start over. I don't want to do it all over again from the beginning. I want to go FORWARD. I want to make PROGRESS. This is maddening.

New approach to life. This is becoming increasingly necessary. I am not in control. If it happens, it happens. I just have to do what I'm told, follow the path. What happens isn't up to me, I just have to roll with it.

I can't spend countless nights agonizing over what was or wasn't said, what I do and do not understand. I can't! It will all go exactly the way it is meant to, and I just have to trust that. No expectations, just living. I can do that...

Yeah right.

Everybody wants to be loved every once in awhile. We all need someone to hold onto, just like a helpless child...

Good lyrics. I've been loved, but not like I should have been. I love too easily, and I get ruthlessly hurt and tormented. Crappy Valentine's Day to all. I'm a scrooge, I know. I'm so scared of ending up all alone. It seems I have two options. Stay alone, or get hurt over and over and over again.

Please stop what you're doing, wake up and realize that I'm roadkill. I'm not dead yet, but if you keep running me over, I will be. I am an actual human being. True, I resemble a pancake more often than not, but I promise... my brain is still functioning, and pain of all sorts still registers.

One step closer to becoming a hermit...

I can't control ANYTHING. It's not in my hands, it's in His... but he gave us all free will, so nothing is for sure when His plans include other people. You can still end up with your face in the mud. Best laid plans.

Sometimes I picture God as like a soccer coach, and he has every play perfectly mapped out. He gives me my pep talk, and sends me on my way. This is what we've been training for, I know exactly what to do. Then someone from the other team "accidentally" kicks me in the knee and I'm down for the count. Face/Mud. Boom. I crawl back to God, and He sucks a big breath through his teeth and is all like "Ouch. I'm sorry, Corrie... you were doing EXACTLY what I told you to do. I was hoping the other team wasn't going to do that, but... well... free will and all." and then I get a little bit angry. "Seriously, God? You knew that was going to happen? No fair!" And then He reminds me that he knows all, and knew that He would also be there to comfort me afterward. Then I feel dumb for getting mad. Onward and so forth. You get the picture.

I just kind of want to be taken out of the game. Put me on the bench, coach. I'm exhausted...

I believe God speaks through dreams. He has done it for hundreds and hundreds of years. If something works well, you keep it up. Dream speaking works. It's a seed planted into the deepest parts of my subconscious. So deep, that it becomes engrained into my thoughts and stays with me throughout the day. Depending on the message, sometimes it never goes away.

I have been plagued with various fears and insecurities lately, and I think God finally had enough. "Corrie, that's it! Stop worrying about what ifs and maybes! You're not supposed to know the future, that's my job. However... you are needlessly torturing yourself and I need this to stop. I am going to give you a glimpse. Pay attention."

The images and scenes he showed me were all of the things I had been hoping for, while silently and intensely fearing that they were already slipping away from me. Worry is a silly thing, if you think about it. Torturing yourself isn't going to change anything. Worrying won't force something into existence.

Life is about to happen. I've seen it! I've heard it. I think I'm frustrating God a little bit, because He has had to show me twice now. I let the doubts of others snake their way into my brain. No more!

I will be strong enough to carry this assurance for myself and whoever else needs a reminder. I know my role, I know my mission, and I am ready.

In His name...

Doubt.

It's filling me to the very top and spilling over. I thought my identity was secure. The messages were strong. I was exactly where I needed to be.

Seeing yourself from someone else's eyes is a strange experience. In some cases humbling, in others... disappointing, upsetting, etc. It feels like there are so many different versions of me out there, and I don't know which perception is accurate. You'd think I'd be the one to clear up any misconceptions about who I am, but... no. Not at all.

God told me very specifically what He wanted. I've no doubt there at all. If there is more than one person involved in any scenario, it gets tricky. It's like playing a game of telephone sometimes. God tells you to tell someone, and the message gets warped, and God is all like "Fine. I guess I have to tell them myself." and so He does. Message received! Woohoo! Except...

"I heard what God was saying and all, and I'm sure he was totally right, because He's like...well, He's God and everything. But I'm just gonna chill and wait it out for awhile just in case He changes His mind. That's cool, right?"

NO. No, that is not cool.

I can understand one perception of me a little better these days. When something horrible happens to you, I want to be the person you turn to for comfort. I am not Jesus or anything near. I'm merely a human. A human that has been put into your life for a reason. I'm afraid that my need for human love, compassion and companionship is viewed as a weakness. All you need is Jesus. How can I be upset by that? I picture a future in which I undoubtedly get upset by something trivial that takes place within my day to day, and I would like to turn to you for a hug and a laugh inducing comment or two that will transform my mood. Would you turn me away, instructing me to only go to God? I know we are to go to Him with ALL of our problems, and I do... but I don't think he meant it exclusively. Otherwise, having made more than one human seems a little redundant. He populated a planet with us only to make sure we had absolutely no need of one another? I highly doubt it.

I get worried sometimes that I'm completely inadequate. There have been people like this since the world began. I'm afraid of adversity and I'm afraid of meeting impossible seeming challenges head on. There are several things on the horizon that are slowly transforming me into a quaking mess of fear. How do I approach these situations? Are they mistakes? Should I be avoiding them at all costs? The majority of my questions are met with a resounding "NO", and I'm reminded of Jonah. God has places for me to go and things for me to do, and while there are already people on the other side of these journeys ready and willing to take me down, there is something far less pleasant in store for me should I disobey His instructions. Who knows what land dwelling creature will swallow me whole if I stay cowered in my little shell.

It's so much safer here...

I will never have the perfect words to say, and sometimes I feel like that will always keep me beneath you. Will I always feel like I am several steps behind? Will I always feel like I am trailing behind you in your shadow? Is this the life He wants for me? Can someone as loved as you understand my fears? Are these things that I should ever even vocalize? I helped you once, and my heart soared. I'm sure it happened more than once, but only once recently that I recall. My mind was blessed with an abundance of words from above, and I felt necessary. Not vital by any means, but I felt like I was actually contributing to something.

This blog has turned into lengthy letters to so many different people. I hope I remember what I was talking about ten years from now.

It's time to relent, repent, and go. No more excuses. All will be revealed in a matter of weeks. I can follow everything I'm being told, but if the other people involved are stalling, there's only so much I can do. I pray God takes notice of my noble effort, and should His plan not go as planned, He will graciously release my heart and set before me a new path.

In His precious name I pray,

Amen.

Sometimes I'm okay. Then I think. My mind gets so full of things I should say and would say and want to say but won't say, that soon enough my stomach is hurting and my eyes get blurry and I want to hide in a cave permanently.

The life I used to have doesn't seem as far away as it really is. When I was a kid... everything seemed so GOOD. Life was so GOOD. Mom was normal, loving and supportive. We did family devotionals every night. Aunts, Uncles, cousins... I had it all. It feels like a dagger when people make assumptions and comments insinuating that I don't understand "family time". I may not have a family now, but I used to. Believe you me, if anything... I understand it MORE than you do, because I lost it.

If I had my way, I would move to South Carolina and live permanently with my Aunt and Uncle. When I think of family, they are who I think of. They are the people I crave when I think back to those days. My parents of course, too... but even though moving to SC is far fetched, being my parents on a regular basis is an actual impossibility.

Do you have any idea how much I want what you have? Does that make its way into your brain? I guess I'm of the mindset... and always have been... that if I have something someone else doesn't, and they need it... I share it or give it away. I have been like that ever since I was a little kid. I gave stuff away constantly. I got in trouble a lot with that. My friends never left my house empty handed. Now, if I had an amazing family and wonderful holiday gatherings, and knew someone I loved was all alone... well, we all know what I would do. What I HAVE done. No one ever minded when I extended invitations. I know I'm not normal, though. That's totally okay with me. It's the abnormal people who make a difference.

It also probably comes from being a constant caregiver. When you're in that role, you are much more in tune to the people around you and what they need... both spoken and unspoken. You stop paying attention to yourself. It's unfair to assume that other people have that ability, because in all reality, they've never been in that situation.

I genuinely have a great deal of difficulty in taking care of myself, speaking for myself, and expressing myself. I'd much rather take care of someone else than look in a mirror. This is the downside to being the dependable caregiver. I will take care of you and tend to your every need until the day I die. Me? I'll die before I'll admit to needing you. Whoops.

"You know when you take the high road so often, that you don't even ****ing realize there's a lower road?" - April Monigold. She said that just now. It was a little bit perfect.

I will hold you and talk you through it. I will check on you and make sure I do whatever it takes to make you feel better and get back to where you need to be. When I break? What can you do? It's so far beyond your understanding. You nod, and you acknowledge the pain... but that's as far as it goes. There's no way you can change it or make it better. Well... there are ways. But they are not things you will do. This is something I have to accept. I am so important... but we have to face reality. The truth is that I'm not important enough for any of it to change. There are the normal people... and there is me. I choose to be me, and you choose normal. Try as I might, I can't begrudge you that. I would too if I were you. Normal is controlled, safe, easy. I'm none of those. This is why my mountain stretches higher than most. At the top is something we can't even begin to imagine... because mine is a much longer, far too treacherous journey. It's going to be so amazing. Those ten years I lost climbing through vines and quick sand and dodging predators on the way up the mountain are going to seem like nothing when I get to the top. The harder the climb, the greater the reward. I don't know if you'll be there with me... because I won't be with you at the top of yours.

I have always handled everything on my own, and therefore... I'm the strongest person you know. They all tell me that. "If I had been through what you've been through... I would be crushed. I wouldn't even be able to function. You're so strong." So go ahead... I can handle it. I always have. Why would you think any different? I've never not gone it alone, so it will be fine.

Let's be honest, Corrie. You were never alone. I'm insulting Him, and I don't mean to. I'm stronger every day because He is with me. He doesn't want me to suffer, and He's trying to show me how to let go and end the pain, but it's a long process. The path gets awfully narrow sometimes, and it feels like I'm walking it alone, but He's just ahead of me, clearing the bigger obstacles that would most likely kill me.

You say you didn't let me let you go, because you thought it was coming from an unhealthy place, and I was going to need you. I remember every word of that conversation, and there was nothing about me ever spoken. "I don't want you to let me go. I love you. I need you. I know you will always be there for me. (This will never be wrong) I know we will be old ladies talking about the good old days in our rocking chairs one day." You kept me for you, and to hear you say otherwise was incredibly insulting... I wanted you to want me, why take it back? Truth is... if you did it because I needed you... that's ultra confusing. Because we weren't close for years after that. I was on my own. If you stuck around for me, you didn't really stick around. Don't take back the truth. I remember it too well to be satisfied with your new version. I don't mind that you wanted to keep me for your own well being. I'm well aware that I'm fantastic, and I can make you laugh, and I can say all the right words that you need to hear. I am in your life for a reason, and to say I make it better will not cause the world to end. It's not a two way road, but to suggest it was going the other way all those years... nope. That's all I have to say about that.

I love/hate my memory. It's all in there. It can't be re-written. A lot of people try to, but please. It's not worth the argument. Kelly's even worse than me. "No, it wasn't a green sweater, it was teal. And it was 8:23, not 8:30." Whatever, Kelly. Shut up. *grins*

So I hadn't planned on writing down some of the thoughts that plagued me afterward, but alas... out is better than in. Things are changing drastically every day, and if I don't find an outlet... something horrible could happen.

BAHABABBABAAAAAAAAAARRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!

Yep.

Sometimes it's better if you DON'T know the reason behind things. That's certainly how I feel. Conversations were had, explanations made, certain things clarified. The problem is, the majority of the conversation was happening within my own head. It's too hard for me to get words out of my head without writing them down sometimes.

I thought about ranting and raving and writing it all here... but I think I've reached a point where I can't find the point anymore. I feel like different versions of history are making appearances. Improvements of truth are finding their way into my consciousness, and I don't think I'm interested in entertaining them. I was there. I remember. I always remember.

So what's the point? There really isn't one. You can talk and explain and cry and wish and push and try your hardest... square peg round hole. You can't force it. You can't make it happen.

As much as it FEELS like the end of the world... it isn't. I'm not unloved... I'm just not reciprocated in the way that I should be. It makes sense to me, and that's all that matters. I don't want to talk about anything anymore, but I also don't want to fake it. I don't want to smile and nod and listen to all of it while I'm screaming internally. I don't want to be that person anymore. I don't think any of you want me to be that person either.

It's a terrible feeling to feel like you're completely on your own... but the truth of the matter is, when it comes to friendships... I am. Only because there is NO possible way to understand. They haven't been there. Most of them never will be. They can't understand.

I cracked a little bit and showed a bit too much, so I might as well write it down. When you spend ten years of your life locked in a cage taking care of someone else... people forget about you. They forget about the girl in the cage. She can't come out and play, and we don't have the key...*shrug* oh well. Then she gets out. She's released, and yes there's a lot of damage, but she's out.

How long until people remember me? How long until I stop being punished for doing what had to be done? How long until they see me? How long until I'm blessed? Grandma always told me there are crowns and blessings galore waiting for me. She couldn't believe the things I did every day. I don't believe the things I did every day. It still just feels like a nightmare. A very very long nightmare.

Either there's no light at the end of the tunnel, or this tunnel is a whole lot longer than I expected it to be.

THIS IS NOT FAIR. IT'S NOT FAIR!

Right. What else is new?

I love lyrics. Lately... Colton Dixon's lyrics. Here are some of the best!!

"NOISE"
Every day is a car alarm
That I don't know how to disarm
Where is the silence
That simple silence

Every day is a time bomb
Ticking louder till it goes off
Where is the silence
Where is it hiding

Cause everything is noise
Everything is screaming out
Everything has come alive, oh
But I'm getting lost in the sound
I need to hear Your voice
Reminding me that at the end of the day
No matter what goes down I'll be OK
Even through the noise

I'm looking high and I'm looking low
It's the same any place I go
Where is the silence
Where is it hiding

Gonna come what may be
But things are getting kind of crazy
Where is the silence
Can't get no silence

Cause everything is noise
Everything is screaming out
Everything has come alive, oh
But I'm getting lost in the sound
I need to hear Your voice
Reminding me that at the end of the day
No matter what goes down I'll be OK
Even through the noise

Whisper my name, whisper my name
When it's getting too high
Whisper my name, whisper my name
Tell me that it's alright
[x2]

Cause everything is noise
Everything is screaming out
Everything has come alive, oh
But I'm getting lost in the sound
I need to hear Your voice
Reminding me that at the end of the day
No matter what goes down I'll be OK
Even through the noise
Even through the noise

"NEVER GONE"

Lights off, a shot in the dark
We get lost when we're playing a part
We lay blame like we know what's best
... It's a shame...

We break when we fall too hard
Lose faith when we're torn apart
Don't say you're too far gone
It's a shame
It's a shame

There's space between our lives
Hard to face, but I know we try
To revive, bring it back to life
Don't walk away
Don't walk away

I'm still standing here
No I didn't disappear
Now the lights are on
See I was never gone

I let go of your hand
To help you understand
With you all along
Yeah, I was never gone

I never ever left you
Never ever left you, no

"Love Has Come For Me"

I tell myself that I can do better
Someday I'm gonna get it all together
Who am I fooling?
I am weak and prone to be
The me that I will always be
So what's left to do but surrender?

This is where I am
And this is where You start
And everything I needed
Is everything You are
Love has come for me
Oh, love has come for me

I've never understood but it's amazing
The way you never let the past enslave me
How do you do it?
Love the heart, the part of me
That desperately needs a remedy
I wanna be a life You keep changing

Cause this is where I am
And this is where You start
And everything I needed
Is everything You are
Love has come for me
Oh, love has come for me

And I'll go where You want me to be
And even though I may be broken
I can see Your love has come for me

I'm never gonna get it all together
So, what's left to do but surrender?

Cause this is where I am
And this is where You start
And everything I needed
Is everything You are
Love has come for me
Love has come for me
Yeah, love has come for me
Love has come for me  

"Rise"

What happened to your life
It's more than makeup staining your eyes
You wanna be in a better place
Say you don't wanna live this way
All alone

When your heart is cold
And when you feel you're letting go
You can rise above the world below
Rise tonight, tonight

So hard to watch you bleed
Your fragile heart ripped at the seams
You gotta try to help me understand
But first you're gonna have to let me in
No, you're not alone

When your heart is cold
And when you feel you're letting go
You can rise above the world below
Rise tonight
You can rise tonight, yeah

There's a light, a hope in your eyes
Like a star burning in the sky
There's a fire you can't hide tonight, oh
[x2]

When your heart is cold
And when you feel you're letting go
You can rise above the world below
You can rise above the world below
Rise tonight
You can rise tonight

"Where My Heart Goes"

Where does my heart go
When I have a choice to make?
Who do I follow
When my character's at stake?
Will I run from You or to Your arms?
Will I fight to be right where You are?
'Cause life is pulling me a million different ways

This is my song that I sing forever
You are my home, You are what I treasure
I want You to be where my heart goes
And if it all breaks
If it goes to pieces
You are the one that I will believe in
I know You won't ever let me go
(You won't let me go)
I want You to be where my heart goes

There's no denying
What this world will promise me
But I have decided
You are the only thing I need
So take everything
Take everything
Take everything

This is my song that I sing forever
You are my home, You are what I treasure
I want You to be where my heart goes
And if it all breaks
If it goes to pieces
You are the one that I will believe in
I know You won't ever let me go
(You won't let me go)
I want You to be where my heart

Runs to, clings to
Jesus, I so need You
I want You to be where my heart goes

This is my song that I sing forever
You are my home, You are what I treasure
I want You to be where my heart goes
(Where my heart goes)
And if it all breaks
If it goes to pieces
You are the one that I will believe in
I know You won't ever let me go
(You won't let me go)
I want You to be where my heart goes
I want You to be where my heart goes

"THIS IS WHO I AM"

A million colors paint the world
But you don't see them
Like I see them
A picture worth a thousand words
But you don't hear them
Are you listenin'?

I've been singing out, screaming loud
Shoutin' for so long

This is who I am
It's where I stand
I won't apologize
This is why I'm free
Now I believe
I will not compromise
This is who I am

A sea of faces all around
I see you sinkin'
I see you drownin'
But I won't let you pull me down
As I'm reachin' for deeper meaning

Oh, I've been searchin' for that somethin'
But I've know it all along

This is who I am
It's where I stand
I won't apologize
This is why I'm free
Now I believe
I will not compromise
This is who I am

This is who I am
I'm the blind man given eyes to see
The captive who has been set free
The truth if only you'd believe

This is who I am
It's where I stand
I won't apologize
This is why I'm free
Now I believe
I will not compromise

This is who I am
It's where I stand
I won't apologize
This is why I'm free
Now I believe
I will not compromise
This is who I am

Whoa oh, whoa oh
I won't apologize
This is who I am
Whoa oh, whoa oh
I will not compromise
This is who I am

"IN AND OUT OF TIME" -- My favorite!!!

Future is waiting
He's always pulling me
And present's worth saving
But the past is haunting me

I wanna live out of time
But I know it could run out
It could run out on me
I wanna love out of time
Wanna turn it around before it comes down on me
Find a way to rewind it
Stop it, deny it
I wanna live in the light but I know that I'm fallin'
I'm fallin' in and out of time

Time, you confuse me
You own every day
Patience, please heal me
Come take me away

I wanna live out of time
But I know it could run out
It could run out on me
I wanna love out of time
Wanna turn it around before it comes down on me
Find a way to rewind it
Stop it, deny it
I wanna live in the light but I know that I'm fallin'
I'm fallin' in and out of time

Time heals the fallin'
I hear the callin'
Clock strikes the hour
Don't run, don't cower

Time heals the fallin'
I hear the callin'

I wanna live out of time
But I know it could run out
It could run out on me
I wanna love out of time
Wanna turn it around before it comes down on me
Find a way to rewind it
Stop it, deny it
I wanna live in the light but I know that I'm fallin'
I'm fallin' in and out of time

"Wake Up"

Is anybody out there
You wonder as you close your eyes
Does anybody even care, anymore?

You're stuck inside the same dream
Waiting on the sun to rise
But deep inside your heart screams, for more

Wake up!
The story begins when we open our eyes
Chains will be broken and the dead will rise
This is the moment, we are alive, alive, alive
Wake up! We gotta wake up!
We gotta wake up! We gotta wake up!
We're coming to life
We're coming to life

Welcome to the nightmare
A state of complacency
But you don't wanna be here anymore

Wake up!
The story begins when we open our eyes
Chains will be broken and the dead will rise
This is the moment, we are alive, alive, alive
Wake up! We gotta wake up!
We gotta wake up! We gotta wake up!
We're coming to life

Wake up! We gotta wake up!
We gotta wake up! We gotta wake up!
We're coming to life
(Wake up)
We're coming to life
(Wake up)
We're coming to life
(Wake up)
We're coming to life
(Wake up) 

Okay, I realize I basically copied nearly all the lyrics off of his entire album, but the words are really that spectacular. I love it. I love finding bits and pieces of my soul in other peoples words. Makes me feel so much less alone. "Looking for my radio so I might find a heart to follow." Precisely.

BREATHE.

Step one complete. It all hurts a little tiny bit less now. It usually dissipates for awhile before knocking me over again. I don't like feeling like I'm not in control. I'm definitely not in control. I need to switch roads for awhile and stay away from those destinations. I'm not ready to go there yet. SO! Until I am... Different road. Better road.

Writing. I need to do it. I need to be it. I'm working on an Author page, and here is my new self portrait:

I don't hate it, so that's a good sign. I look like I am dreaming up a story! This is usually the case when my mind gives up on reality. It's so much easier to exist in fiction. I suppose that's why it's fictional. Not real. *sigh* At least I have total control in that world.

The entire Granted saga is so personal sometimes. When I'm writing about their world in ancient Greece, I honestly find myself giggling, thinking... there's no possible way that anyone other than me will find this the least bit entertaining. Historical stories were where my brain always wandered to when I was younger. I blame my mother. Her passion for epic period romances was definitely passed down to me. Braveheart, Last of the Mohicans, Wuthering Heights, Sense and Sensibility, Romeo and Juliet, etc etc etc. Everything seemed so much more passionate and beautiful in the past. Everything was more intimate and personal because it had to be. There were no phone call hang ups or misinterpreted text messages. People would travel for days just to see someone else they cared about. Saying goodbye was real. I just love it so much!

When I was in 6th grade, I wrote my first Historic Romance entitled "Lady Elizabeth". It became the obsession of every girl (and one special boy) in my Communications class. Writing about royalty and indulging in those languages is such a guilty pleasure, that I'm THRILLED I took Granted there. It was an experiment when Talie had that first dream in the first book, and before I knew it, I had developed a plan to have her get stuck in the past. It's so much fun!

It's personal, yes... but every time someone praises it or says something wonderful, my heart explodes with joy. It's validation, but beyond that... they are telling me that my passion is worth it. My dreams are possible. I can do what I love, and they want me to do it. They want more. It's incredible.

I'm looking forward to being done with reality for awhile. I need to go back to fantasyland. Nothing can touch me there. As odd as it sounds, it's easier to connect with God when I'm in that world, because I feel like I'm utilizing the gifts He's given me, and therefore making him proud. When I'm NOT in that world, I'm completely out of my element, and constantly lost. Sure, it's easier and much more fun to fantasize with someone else, but... sometimes that's just not possible. Also... I don't want to be loved for only my stories. You have to love my reality too... which I know is a HUGE order, because I can't even do that. Not yet, anyway.

People talk to me a lot when I'm writing. They don't talk to me much when I'm not. That's discouraging and encouraging all at the same time. If you're confused can you imagine how I feel??? Right?!?!? I love that they love it, but... I want them to love me without the words sometimes too. We can hang out even if I haven't written anything in several months. At least I'm writing here. It keeps my brain moving, anyway.

Life.

Breathe.

BREATHE.

Why does everything have to be so confusing?? It was just a few months ago when I thought everything was figured out. There were no more questions. Everything was comfortable and secure. What happened next? Someone dropped an anvil on my head and knocked me out. When I came to, everything was different. I think I'm in an alternate universe...

It's frustrating to be 'one of my dearest friends' to every friend I have... and yet... that only comes into play when something horrible is happening to you. When it comes to the good stuff, I'm a pal. When it comes to the bad stuff, I'm your rock. I'm who you turn to. I want to be that for everyone, that's part of the very core of my being. However... I want the good stuff too.

It's confusing when someone calls themselves YOUR best friend, but not the other way around. It gives you a sense of false entitlement, and when things don't happen it's beyond confusing. It's devastating. Why call yourself that? Why lay that claim? I've watched envy come out of people when I display a closeness to others. What's entertaining, is that I WANTED to belong to you. Your actions make no sense. "Hi, I'm Corrie's best friend..." why would you want that title?

If those words had never been spoken, it wouldn't be such a heartache to realize that while you say I am the only person privy to your dreams and fantasies... that on the day when those dreams come true, I don't get to stand beside you. I don't get to trounce around in a gown and pose for pictures. Why do you want to be my best but keep me as a dear friend?

Your biggest dream comes true. You have found the man God has chosen for you. All the people who really hold that place in your life have met and loved him. I'm literally...across the street when it happens. My brain works differently than others I think. Were I engaged and across the street from a "dear friend" who had not met him yet, I would be like "Let's run over for a quick minute! She HAS to meet you!"

I joke about it. I shrug it off. But there's no reason that will satisfy me. There is no excuse. There is only a choice, and you chose what you chose, and I'm here. I'm still here.

There have been abundant amounts of these choices throughout the years. What am I hanging on for? A change? It's not going to happen. Why are we here? Haha... isn't that the mother of all questions.

You know what's funny? When you get hit with a wave of memories, there's no telling where it's going to knock you back to. Recently it's taken me all the way back to the beginning. The beginning of it all. It's remarkable.

LuRae was my closest friend in the whole world. We met in junior high, and I comforted her when she got pelted by water balloons at Lisa Nelson's birthday party.  She was the weird 6th grader who liked to dip string cheese and french fries in frozen yogurt. She wore a lot of turtle necks. It was she and I every day. We were best friends through the rest of junior high, and into high school. We developed a serious fascination with The Moffatts. I started writing a story about them.

When she was in 9th grade, LuRae brought Nikki to our lunch table. I knew Nikki. Her Grandma lived across the street. She was so sweet and cute and everyone loved her. It was impossible not to like her. LuRae wanted Nikki to be in on the Moffatt story, that we took more seriously than reality. I promised to write her into the sequel. Suddenly, our duo became a trio. Every day it was Corrie, Nikki and LuRae. (And the Moffatts) We made up dance routines and had sleepovers constantly. It was my version of Heaven.

One day that same year, I was sitting in homeroom in Mr. Arney's classroom. Lurae rushed into the room and threw herself into my arms, sobbing. Nikki trailed behind silently. I held my friend and asked her what was wrong. Her Mom had gone into the hospital for psychiatric care. Nikki informed me that Lurae was going to be staying with her family until further notice. That's when everything changed.

I couldn't be upset, what kind of person would that make me? They became family, and I stayed a dear friend. I lost my two best friends... to each other. They were so excited to tell me about their family trip to Mexico. I couldn't imagine a more painful thing at the time.

I had a friend named Sarah. She had a friend named Jenny she met through softball. I became friends with Jenny as well, and introduced her to Nikki and Lurae. Jenny and Lurae became inseparable, and that left Nikki and I to become a lot closer. I didn't mind. She was easy to confide in. She understood my quirks and sense of humor. I supported her while she dated my best guy-friend, even though I was insane with jealousy. She was too kind to hate. We got BFF rice necklaces at Marketfest. She was my kindred. Most times I didn't even have to say what I was thinking out loud. I loved having that connection with a friend.

There was a party one night in which I acted as a vessel. Jesus and me told them a story. They remember it vividly, and they say it played a huge role in changing their lives. I loved being that moral sounding ground, that person who would be the reality check they needed when temptation came knocking. Maybe that was my entire purpose...

There was a boy named Ryan. I really liked him. He really liked Sunnie. He pretended to like me to get an invite to a barbecue. He destroyed me. Everyone knew everything that happened. Lurae dated him and Nikki hung out with him. This was the beginning of my inability to understand their actions. It only got worse from there.

The following year I went to south campus. White Bear is screwed up, housing 9th and 10th grade in one campus on one side of the city, and 11th and 12th on the other. I was one year ahead of Nikki and Lurae. I was separated from them, and they... being thoroughly engulfed with Jenny and the new slew of friends they found themselves with... rarely talked to me. Then Mom got sick. Very sick.

We've been over, backwards, forwards...all over this. It was so extremely painful to be so very on my own. My only friends were my teachers. I was 16 years old when I started living truly on my own. My mom had trained me well to be her minion, having had me running an entire household by age seven... but when she got sick, it was no longer optional. I was in charge.

I wrote gut wrenching emails begging Nikki and Lurae to be there for me, help me, spend time with me... but they couldn't handle it. I had been there for Lurae when her Mom wasn't doing well, why couldn't they help me? I never asked for help again. From anyone. Ever. Scared straight.

Mom went into remission and before I knew it, the three of us were in school together again for my senior year. We shared my giant locker and rode to school together every day. Lurae was suddenly a lot more mature than Nikki and I, and I remember one day of goofing off in the hallway that had Nikki and I thoroughly scolded by Lurae for embarrassing her. I could feel them slipping. I was supposed to go to a movie with Nikki and some of her friends one Friday. She was asked to un-invite me, and so she did. I still don't understand that one... because I would never do that. I just wouldn't.

I graduated High School. Whether it was her medications, or just her ongoing craziness... my Mom kept up her habits of verbal and emotional abuse. There was one day in particular when I had planned to go on a college visit. My Mom said if I didn't go to school, she would kick me out. I was being proactive, and Kelly was going to pick me up and take me to River Falls. When I was packing up, my Mom informed me I had to cancel my plans and clean out the garage. I tried to reason with her, but it turned into her screaming at me, and tacking on chore after chore after chore. When I still claimed that I had to leave within twenty minutes, and I would clean the garage the following weekend (since apparently neither Sunnie nor Jamison were being asked to help in any way. As usual.) she called for my Dad.

He had me up against the wall military style screaming all sorts of things at me. I cried, and he laughed at me. When I broke away I ran for the front door. They told me if I walked out the door I was no longer their daughter and I couldn't come home. Things like this had been happening for so long, that I was ready to walk away.

I thought I was witnessing a miracle when I saw a slew of cars across the street. I recognized Nikki's parents' car, and thought... oh thank God. Thank you God! I rang the doorbell and was very grateful when Nikki answered to my shaking, sobbing, blubbery self. I explained what had happened and she invited me in.

She filled her Mom in, and having known that they had selflessly housed Lurae repeatedly in her times of need, I bravely asked if I could stay at their house for the night. Nikki's Mom said no, saying she didn't want to disrupt our family dynamic. I didn't understand...  I realized I had nowhere else to go, and I was really truly on my own. I ended up calling Jessie Coffey and stayed with her family.

That group of friends that I had been a central part of continued on without me while they finished their senior year in high school. This was normal, I suppose. Mom got sick again on and off, and I became her full time care giver. My sense of commitment to my family has always been a little too strong for my own good. I met BJ and moved to Alabama. Nikki came to visit during the worst of it, and saved my life. I was still her best friend then. That was the last time.

When I moved home, Lurae got married. It was so surreal and painful to watch my best friends up there celebrating something while I watched. I wanted to be a part of it. Nikki's parents stood when Pastor Steve asked for the families of the bride and groom to rise. I didn't have a family at that point for the most part. They had loved and supported Lurae, and had become her family. No one had done that for me, and I was so envious and sad. I nearly crushed BJ's hand, but was so fortunate that he knew everything and said I wasn't crazy for being upset.

At the reception after the meal, they had the wedding party all dance. Then they had them each grab someone else. These had been my closest friends for four years or more... nobody grabbed me. BJ, Sunnie, Paul and I were the last ones standing there, with the exception of a few older guests who had remained seated. Seems like a silly thing to resent, but it was the final dagger. That's when I officially let go of Lurae and the rest of them. I was a shadow from a time that had ended. Nikki was different.

We all know the rest of the story. Well, I do anyway. It's been a constant yo-yo ever since. Now I'm just confused. How did I start out at the center and end up 50 miles outside of it all? Lurae is in Nikki's wedding. They're still family. I saw their Christmas pictures this year. Nikki knew I didn't have a Christmas. I wonder... if my Mom had gotten sick first if maybe I would have been the one invited into the family. Not likely, but... it's nice to think about. I could have had holidays and pool parties and be in weddings and in on the celebrations. I could have been the girl on the inside, instead of the girl constantly staring out the window gazing at all of the cars gathering for things I wasn't invited to, and seeing the pictures later.

Corrie's the strong one. She's good on her own. Except she isn't anymore. I just want someone to see me, REALLY see me, and tell me all the whys so I can sleep. Because I don't want to spend all of these moments every time the shadows get in analyzing what I did wrong and how I could have changed it. All of the times I tried to walk away and she would show up crying begging me not to... only to leave me on the outside again and again and again...

I am not who you say I am. I wish I were. Oh, Alexander. Now would be a really excellent time for you to exist. It would also be a really great time for my memory to stop being such a steel trap. Oy. I told you it was ALL still in there. Every last detail.

I have heard versions of who I am told from so many different angles in so many different situations. Make up your mind so I can make up my mind. And then shut my mind OFF. Oh my goodness... is it healthy or incredibly morbid to fantasize about your own funeral? I constantly wonder who would attend, who would speak, and what they would say. I have a feeling so much of it would be lies.

The amount of sleep I am getting is never enough. I am always so tired. I think I've just completely exhausted my brain. I've explored every situation and scenario more than I should, spending far too much time analyzing and coming up with solutions.

LET GO.

Well, I'm trying. I promise. There's only so much I can accomplish all at once. There's a battle going on, constantly.

I remember the talks I would have with my Mom when I was younger about spiritual warfare. There's always something going on behind the scenes, good constantly battling evil. This could be a pretty good indicator of where my fatigue is coming from.

There is so much back and forth that I feel like I'm going a little bit nutty. I've talked to a couple of friends about it, well... the gist of things, and they all have the same reaction. I've explained as much as I can about the past, present, and the foreseeable future, and they all say be done. Walk away. I wish it were that easy.

I had dinner with Jess the other night, and I always love catching up with her. She has tough love down to an art, and she never sees a whole lot of gray area. There's a lot of comfort knowing I have exactly ONE friend who was there for all of it. Beginning, middle, end. We were friends in high school when mom first got sick. She was the only friend who came to sit with me in the hospital. She came to the funeral. She was there.

I'm not her bestest best friend, but she was still there. I don't know why it's so important to me to have a friendship like I've seen so many others have. I'm sure it comes across as pathetic and redundant, but I crave it nonetheless. My family life has been consistently strained for as long as I can remember. The degree of that strain has varied year to year, but it's always been there. I just want to feel that love. I want to be needed, and not just when there's a problem. Needed for happy.

I am hoping that God's plan really does include a future spouse...who in turn will be the friend my heart is needing.

-OR-

I can pray for contentment in being alone. I can pray that the friendship I crave can become little more than a whisper, fulfilled over and over again by Jesus. In a spiritual sense, He has been and always will be my closest friend. I suppose it is the earthly hopes that keep me bound to that idea. Girl talk and secret sharing and giggle moments. All of those things without a melancholy torture in the back of my mind reminding me that I'm different than they are. They have someone they prefer over me. Somebody else knows more of their secrets. Why does that matter?!?!?! It just does.

BLARGH.

I have to make another doctor's appointment. I haven't written about any of the recent complications, but they are on-going. I know what I'm talking about. Girl problems. Right.

Tomorrow is Sunnie's 28th birthday. Family dinner :) Dad will have to speak to me! Or maybe not... I hope so. Living with him has become beyond difficult. I don't feel at home in my home, and I want to find a way out. He loves my dogs, and when I try to find alternative people to watch over them for me, he gets upset, saying he is more than capable. PROBLEM: his fence is falling apart, and he has no desire to repair it. I lack the skills, but I'm willing to try. There's only so much you can do with duct tape and rocks...

Because Dodger is an escape artist, Dad has decided that he doesn't want to let the dogs out to go to the bathroom anymore. What's the other option? Oh yes. They poop and pee all over the house. This is not rocket science. I go out and stand with them while they're outside, so Dodger wouldn't even THINK about trying to get out. Dad doesn't want to do that. Even though he's already outside in the garage smoking himself to death... the extra two steps would do him in.

The other night I came home, and as I walked in the door, Dad mutes the TV (That I pay for) and says -- without so much as a greeting -- "I was working in my music room (which is an empty bedroom with a guitar in it) and your dogs went in and pooped and peed everywhere. You have work to do." Aaaaand... the tv is back on. End of conversation. Instantly my throat constricted and I wanted to sob. No, no.... don't cry. Just keep going. The kitchen is trashed again and there is peanut butter and orange peels EVERYWHERE. Just clean it all up and go back to your room. This is the extent of our interactions lately. It's lovely.

Dodger needs to run, so I can't legitimately go back to apartment living. Not only that, but with the medical issues I'm facing paired with my inability to get insured... my money is unavailable to find a decent place to live. Rock. Hard place. Stuck... I've never felt more isolated. I'm becoming a hermit, and I'm not entirely torn apart by it. Willingly deciding to stay at home is a lot better than being left at home. Word.