I've left my life behind me and I'm moving forward. I know I may be an idiot for it, but I still did it knowing all the consequences and repercussions that I would have to face. As it stands right now, I'm just an idiot for doing it. Does it sound like I really care, though? Didn't think so.
I've left my life behind me and I'm moving forward. Life has this stupid way of continuing right on without you if you somehow fall off the train somewhere along the line. No matter how much you beg and plead with it, it doesn't listen to you. It doesn't even care about you. As hard as it may be, you have to learn that lesson at some point in your short, insignificant life.
I've left my life behind me and I'm moving forward. I honestly didn't know what leaving the majority of my life behind me would feel like or how it would affect the people I know (past, present and future) and leaving everything I'd ever learned, everything I'd ever loved and everything I'd ever known, behind me. I'll admit it was hard. Even harder now that I have to face the people I've known my whole life after I made up my mind and am no longer looking back at what used to be.
Sure, I'd love to rewind fourteen (almost fifteen) years of my life and stop myself from making that first decision that would tell my family that I wouldn't stand in their way when they began to dictate to me about how I was to live my life. To be blunt I'll admit that it was baptism. My first baptism was the day I willingly decided to give the reigns of my life over to my dysfunctional family. You could say, "You were four, you didn't actually know what you were doing. No one knows what kind of decisions they make or how those decisions will affect their lives when they're four years old. For goodness sake, when you're four, the most important thing in the world is YOU." But you would be wrong.
Anyone who knew me prior to three weeks ago would be wrong if they tried to guess who I was inside judging me by how I acted and spoke. Hell, I didn't even know who I really was until a couple weeks ago. The whole time I spent at camp was a painful time of self-discovery and evaluation of the life I’d been taught was right. I was angry with myself for letting my family do what they were doing for so long. I was angry with myself for living that lie for so long. I’m still angry with myself for not catching it sooner.
Just like I told one of the people I trusted to see the real me through these past few months, just because I say something/sing something/act a certain way doesn’t mean that I mean it. I’ve come to learn that I’m a skilled actress; after all, I spent fifteen years of my life living a lie and wearing a mask and a plastic smile to everyone I’d ever known.
I did all the ‘right’ things a Christian should do, I prayed in His name and I was baptized (not once, but twice), but did I ever once feel God’s presence around me? I went to church every Sunday, grew up in Sunday School, later taught Sunday School and sang on a Worship Team, but was I ever given the opportunity to fully express myself the way I wanted to? I went to all the church functions, attended several prayer meetings, worked many Fundraisers, and eventually led a Fundraiser, but did any of this make me a better person in Christ? I respected my body as God told us to, never let anyone take advantage of or even touch me and even got into the habit of praying constantly (I still catch myself mid-sentence all the time), but did any of that show others Jesus’ love? The answer to all of these questions is a resounding no. Many of the aforementioned things, in fact, inhibited me from even forming relationships with others because the thought ‘what would the church think of me?’ was always in the back of my head. It was all about the church. The church that silently dictated to me my whole life, ended up ruining my life entirely. I was and still am caught up in what others think of me. Go ahead and tell me it’s wrong, but I’m still going to be this way. It’s the way I’ve always been. I am silently a very vain and obsessive person. I have always cared what others think of me, and I will always care what others think of me; that’s not going to change. Ever. I know it, and I’m also okay with it. It’s not such a crippling fear anymore, so much as just a passing thought. I’m not going to stop those thoughts from entering my mind, it’s not about that; they’re there and they’re never leaving. I’m not going to let my thoughts of what others think of me dictate to me how I’m going to live my life either, I’m just going to let them be and leave them at that.
A friend of mine, when told that I didn’t know what was going to happen to me if I gave up on God, said ‘that tells me that you really do believe all this and that you do actually believe in God.’ Well, what I have to say to that is simple: Every time you’ve made a major change in your life, you’ve always had one constant. I don’t care what that constant was, whether it was family, friends or God, it was always there. You’re lucky if you’ve never gone through such a change that you feel as if your whole life has been turned upside down. What I meant when I said that was “I don’t know what I’m supposed to believe anymore. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to keep my church friends or shun them altogether. I don’t know what’s going to help me make important decisions anymore. When I finally tell my friends what’s going on in my head, will they shun me or will I willingly shun them by telling them all this? Am I just supposed to turn my back on everything I’ve ever known to be true or embrace it as childhood ignorance? Now I have to re-learn how to think, speak and live? I’m not so sure I want to do this anymore; maybe choosing God, the ‘right’ choice to make, is the easiest thing to do now. Maybe I just want to live this blissful ignorance to the fullest. Maybe I want to keep wearing this mask for a little while longer. I don’t know if I’m strong enough without God to do all this. Has God ever actually been there for me or has it been just me all along? I’m not used to making decisions on my own, will it get easier as time goes on or will it always be this hard? What on earth am I doing?”
I understand that’s a lot to swallow in one breath and I realize at this point that even though that’s what I wanted/meant to say to her that night, I didn’t. I also didn’t expect her to get all that from one simple phrase, either. I was just tripping all over my words and thoughts so much that night that I couldn’t even form a coherent thought or sentence anymore. I still struggle with it, although it is quite a bit easier now then it was back in November.
I’m not sure what sparked this entry or why I’m still writing it, but I do know one thing now; I’m not writing anything for anyone other than me now. I used to write for the comments. I used to write to see (subconsciously) what kind of attention I would get from certain entries. I used to write to see how my friends would react to some things and situations.
Actually, I can’t lie; I know what sparked this entry. My gut told me to open my blog and I actually listened to it and obeyed this time. I’m learning to listen to my gut, no matter how hard it might be, it’s always right. I learned that the hard way. Most recently through making a decision about taking a trip, only to find out that another friend had something else planned for us over those two days that I had been gone. I’m pretty sure that she’s forgiven me for disappointing her that day by now, but it will always remain in my mind the day I learned to listen to my gut instead of those around me, because life always has something better for you than you’d ever expect.
If you’ve actually read this entire beast of an entry, kudos to you because even I wouldn’t read something this long on a computer screen. Thanks for sticking with me through this whole ordeal everyone; you’ve proven yourselves to me time and time again.
~Blackbird
ps- Hey Jenni, there's my 'free-writing' for the week...enjoy!
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