singing with sam

I'm trying to fall asleep and ignore the fact that my favorite hoodie smells like burnt coffee, but it's too potent to ignore. I never should have worn that thing to work. I take it off and chuck it across my room hoping I won't smell it from over there.

I'm having trouble sleeping at night these days... or nights, I guess I should say. I find no trouble in falling asleep during the day, except for the fact that the day wasn't meant to be slept through... unless you're an owl, or perhaps a bear during the winter.

As odd as this may sound, I went to the bathroom the other day and thought about what it would be like to be a bear. Nothing about going to the bathroom particularly gave me this thought, just the mere act of sitting down (as girls do when they pee, let's clarify) made me wish I could fall asleep and not wake up until it's warm and sunny outside.

"I kinda wish I was a bear," I thought to myself. "I bet they don't struggle with seasonal affective disorder because they sleep through the most dark and depressing time of the year. I wish I could sleep through winter. Especially this winter. This has been a hard winter."

I flush my thoughts away along with tinkle town and I go on with my day.

But I keep coming back to this thought... "I wish I was a bear. I wish I could sleep through all of winter and then nobody would bother me about how I'm sleeping too much because I'd be a bear and it would be normal."

I sleep a lot. Mostly during the day. Some people say I'm stuck on a bad sleep cycle and I just need to break it. Some people suggest I should get my thyroids checked or be tested for anemia. And some people think I'm just lazy. The people I work with joke around and say I party too much which is why I'm always tired at work. I laugh it off because they and I both know it's not true, but sometimes I wish it was just for the mere fact that there would be a reason for why I am so tired all the time.

I keep hoping that when the season changes, something in me will change too. I don't even know what it is, I just know that something needs to change. I'm not who I was. And not in a cheesy Christian song written by Brandon Heath kind of way, or in a "I once was lost, but now am found" kind of way, but in a way that has brought me here to a place of almost hopelessness and begging "Lord, please, give me the joy of my salvation!"

"I've found you, but I'm still lost. I've been set free, yet I'm stuck again. I know you are good, but I've lost sight of your goodness. I don't feel you, see you, hear you, or know you anymore, but I know you are there. Where, God, where is the joy of my salvation?

But more importantly...

Where are you?"

I'm OK with asking these questions. The problem comes when it's my turn to listen for the answers. I don't listen. I sleep.

Sunday was the one year memorial of the death of a friend who took her life last March. I tried not to think about it. Instead, I slept. It's not the answer, but it's easier. And when going through a season of apathy, unfortunately I settle for whatever is the easiest.

I looked up the word apathy on dictionary.com and I found my name. OK, not really, but I found what best describes how I have felt about life for some time now...

Apathy:

1. absence or suppression of passion, emotion, or excitement.

2. lack of interest in or concern for things that others find moving or exciting
3. freedom from emotion of any kind.

Freedom? I used to beg for freedom... freedom from addictions, from bondage, from people pleasing, from abusive relationships, from self hatred, from anger, from depression, the list goes on...

I used to beg and plea for freedom and time and time again God has set me free, and yet instead of being thankful I find myself here... free from emotion of any kind.

Apathetic instead of thankful.

I don't want that kind of freedom... freedom from emotion. I want freedom from apathy, even if it means dealing with the hard stuff and squirming in the discomfort of facing it head on.

Something in me has to change, and I think it's bigger than the weather.

The time for excuses is almost over. I say almost because, let's be honest, freedom form apathy isn't that easy. Coming to the realization of the need for change is different than the actual process of making change happen (yes, who can, Mr. Obama?).

Change is not instant, and it's not easy. I still want to make excuses, and I'm frustrated at the thought of giving up those excuses... I still want whats easy, I won't lie about that.

But truth be told, as comfortable as my excuses make me, I'm not happy. I'm just comfortable. What a boring life! The absolute last thing I would ever want my obituary to read is "she led a comfortable life."

And with that thought, seeing as it's almost 3am, I realize it's time for me to get up, get off the couch,

and go to bed.