the itch

So here I am, freezing cold, in a basement that has been totally redone and become my bedroom... in Warrenville, Illinois. I'm so blessed to have family members that love me enough to take me in, take care of me, provide for me, and support my recovery... But I can't help but wonder... What the hell am I doing here?

I love where I am, but now that I've been settled here for a while, I'm startingto get the itch. The itch to leave. The itch to run. The itch I feel when I realize I've been somewhere long enough for people to start to really get to know me. I know I'm good with first impressions, and even seconds or thirds. But when it comes to letting someone into my world and really knowing me... I know nothing about it.

I did once. And the result... I've decided to never do it again.

So here I am, taking control again, refusing to let anybody hurt me.

Refusing to take a chance of letting anyone in... because what if, just what if, they leave? And not just leave, but take every emotion I've ever had or known and completely strip me of it? What if it happens all over again?

I guess that's not totally a fair statement. He didn't take all of my emotions, in many ways I gave them to him. But I guess I didn't know any better. Or maybe I did, and I completely just put all of my hope and trust in a false reality.

I realize this is going to be a bold statement, but... emotionally raped. That's what it feels like. And now I even make my friends pay for "what he did" by not letting them in.

Even me writing this is an attempt to want someone to love me, or feel sorry for me, or take care of me, or be my "rescuer" or whatever... but I don't plan on disclosing anymore. I have become strategic in that way... disclose enough for people to care, but not enough to let them in.

I realize God is supposed to be my rescuer, and He is in some ways, but that's just it... I've let Him become my rescuer in some ways, but not in all or even many ways. Not in ways that I'm willing to surrender control... like my feelings. By not letting people in, I have control of my feelings. I control if I get hurt or not, I control how I feel. I decide not to date... I have control. I decide not to eat... I have control. I decide not to open up to my best friend... I have control. I decide to leave when I feel the itch... I have control.

My best friend can't hurt me, the guy can't break my heart, the food can't overwhelm me, and the itch can't bother me. I control how I feel and in the process I have learned how to not feel pain. Or anything for that matter. And you know what the ironic thing is?
It hurts.

In my attempt to avoid being hurt, I find myself broken hearted and very much alone.

I know I have a lot of people who love me, but when I don't allow them to love me for who I am, does it really mean anything? And so as one of my favorite songs says... I have found myself in a crowded room and terribly lonely. Terribly lonely because I have covered up the girl I want people to love, but am to afraid to show. Afraid because what if, just what if, they leave? And what if it happens all over again? I've told God that I refuse to go through that again, but I'm starting to wonder who I think I am to tell God what I will and will not go through.

So all I can say is...

Here, God, I have this thing that I am holding in my hand and I want to control it, I want it to be mine. The very thought of giving it up makes me angry. And in all honesty, I don't trust you with it, cause if I did, I would have already given it to you. I'm willing to hold my hand out, but I still have a tight grip on what I want. All I'm asking is for you to meet me there. Meet me with my hand out and loosen my grip. I can't do it. Please hear my heart and soul cry out to you for help... even when my flesh wants to run in the opossite direction. Even when my flesh actually does run in the opposite direction and takes my heart, soul, mind, spirit, and everything with it. Here me in this moment, always... I want you.