Alone

I think this page may actually be empty of others. I always say that, but I’m down to zero email subscribers, and everyone I told about this site back in the day don’t care to see the same angst worded differently day after day.

Trevor has vowed to stop reading these, to allow me to genuinely process, without altering parts of myself and all that. It needed to happen I think. I can’t help but feel that this might be the end of that friendship in a way. I’m sure it’s not, but I will never be this vulnerable to him again. Not by any fault of his, or of mine. It just is what it is. I am having to make choices that hurt me now to help me in the future, and if it were solely up to me, I wouldn’t be making them. This is the end of an era at least. I held on for far too long anyway. Letting go will allow me to deal with the topsy turvy grief that came with leaving YWAM and having all of my community ripped away.

I think Charlie may be around here somewhere. Hey. I won’t alter my writing for you. I just don’t know how to talk about myself directly to someone else. Keep trying, I’ll figure it out eventually.

I feel like the chorus of View Between Villages by Noah Kahan.

I outgrew this place. I do not want to be here. There is nothing and no one for me here. I came back here for what. Camp? My family? The issue is, I outgrew them too. My mind is scrambling to take me back to the place I was before I left, so I can be normal around here again. I think it overshot.

Brooks told me that I talk too much about YWAM and the people there and the past. Unprompted. I haven’t talked to him in over two weeks. I don’t understand. “This is getting really tiring. You’ve been back for a month. I get thinking about the “good old days” but you’re so focused on the past that you’re missing out on what’s happening now. it’s getting harder and harder to hang out with you be every time i see you you mention something about thailand or something else in ywam. i want to hang out with YOU. not the inside jokes or memories of Ywam”. He’s right. I think. (I don’t think actually. Trevor thinks so.) i have not been around Brooks near enough to warrant this. I don’t think he gets it. How deeply engrained everything that happened is in my soul. The inside jokes and memories of ywam is me. This is so SO STUPID. Every single other person on the face of the planet expected me to come back exactly the same. Those expectations set me up for failure (or I did.) This isn’t working anymore. I can’t express my thoughts well anymore.

I don’t have friends here. I’m ready to leave. I would leave today if I could.

I tried talking to Sarah Bultman, but shut down before anything real was said.

I can’t talk to Trevor.

The girls have moved on.

I’m scared to talk to Charlie.

I forgot how to talk to God.

I’m fine during the day, and then something will happen, or the clock will strike 10:00 and everything will shatter.

If I had been like this during DTS (and yes, I know I was not ok during a lot of dts, but. This is worse, for reasons I will not be going into) I would have been sent home. I can not staff like this. I can not be in Advance like this. And now people know how bad I am, people that could tell others.

All of this is proving my point, that I am too much. Trevor protested the one time I brought it up, and look at us now. Brooks and I never actually got along. I wonder if we were just friends because we had no one else.

Reading my old blog posts, from when it was bad before is interesting. The things I was struggling with then are no longer concerns of mine.

I had more to say, and the words seem to have dried up.

I need to talk to someone. But no one here understands, and no one there would understand either I feel. What am I even saying. Oh look at me, even when writing to myself I can’t be honest.

The people here don’t care to understand, and I don’t want to show the failure I have become to the people I have left behind.

Because that is what I am. We were warned so many times about coming home well, and I didn’t.

I don’t belong here, that much is clear. I don’t belong there anymore either. Where does that leave me?

Alone?

Probably.

I may not be good at much, but I have a special knack for pushing away the people I want to hold closest to me.

I sabotage myself, my life, my relationships, then act surprised when I have to deal with the consequences.

I have burned the only bridges I had left.

And I can’t be honest. Still.

There is a part of me that is stormy and dark. (Rain, perhaps). I have done a good job of pretending that she is separate from me, to make what she thinks less real. But we are one and the same, no amount of separation takes that away. I am scared of my own thoughts.

Rusts. I can’t keep doing this.

Something must change.