Written on a bus in Honduras, 10/26/16:
I wear my anxiety on my sleeve… But only to hide the depression.
Anyone could ask and I could/would talk about anxiety for hours.
I could tell you anything:
The times it’s worst.
What pills I take.
How I cope.
How I get others to understand.
But I only talk about the surface.
If you go beneath the surface you find
The stuff that is hard to talk about and no one wants to hear about.
The stuff I don’t talk about.
The stuff no one knows about me.
I guess different people know different pieces, and I’m sure if they got together and sorted through the distorted truth, lies, and crushing confessions, they’d put together a rough mosaic of who I unfortunately am.
But unless you are God, you won’t get anything past the surface from me – not face to face at least.
And sometimes … a lot of times … I try to keep it from even Him.
I harden my heart.
I shut down.
I tell Him that He made me wrong and doesn’t deserve knowing His “mistake.”
I wiggle away from His ever-loving Presence.
I fight Him by pushing away the people He put in my life.
If they can’t touch or impact me, then how much can He do?
But reality is, a whole heck of a lot.
And the tears I hold back from the agony of pushing away my True Love are bound to come bursting forth eventually.
Eventually is coming.
One can only release a few drops of built up waterfall for so long.