Posted by: Ingrid | June 2, 2008

Processing

I am finally trying to fumble my way towards some sort of understanding of what has been going on internally over the past week. In five days time, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday all brought news that effectively killed something inside of me. I find that all of the old fears and lies come creeping back; I’m not good enough, not ever enough, a failure, not wanted, unaccepted, and at some very deep level intrinsically and irredeemably broken. It has not been a comfortable week.

All three instances managed to level me, one at a time, hitting a different weak point, tearing at my heart. I was not enough to save a life, to say the right thing, to prevent some great evil and ugliness from happening. There will always be the regret that I didn’t say enough, didn’t say the right thing, should have done something more. I was then presented with a caricature of myself and a misreading and misinterpretation of who I am as a person and what my character is, listened to a list of grievances against me, and in the end still was found wanting. Friday brought a rejection letter from the program I’d applied for in the fall, a rejection that felt somehow very personal. Am I not enough? Am I somehow less than almost everyone I know? Do I not measure up? Were the words that were spoken about what a gift this might be for me utterly meaningless?

I guess I’ll never know. I have very little desire to find out right now. Asking questions and proving myself seems a daunting task, one too large for the very small piece of me that is left.

I suppose I’m most surprised by that remaining piece of me. So much of life now seems vacant and dead with too much space and not much inside to fill the contours of myself, but there is still a piece. And it makes me feel that I am somehow more solid and stronger than I’ve been before because that bit at my core is allowing me to look with some objectivity at the dismal outcome of last week. There could have been a life, a friendship, and future plans to look towards and be excited about. At the same time, there is nothing I would have done differently. I said what was true but had no control over the outcome and decision, I listened and questioned myself and found that the accusations against who I am are for the most part unfounded, I followed through on the application and did everything that I could. I have no regrets except for my longstanding overarching regret that I am not perfect.

I still feel broken and very very small, but I’m still here. And somewhere in the middle of this I seem to have claimed Three Days Grace’s song Time of Dying as a battle cry against the internal death that I’ve been experiencing. This past week has taken me to a place where a polite “Wait on God” doesn’t penetrate the confusion and hurt. But I am waiting, and while it may not be preferable to find that heart cry expressed by a song that had nothing to do with God in the writing, it is perhaps the closest I can get right now to letting God and myself know that I’m still here.

“On this bed I lay
Losing everything
I can see my life passing me by
Was it all too much
Or just not enough
Wake me up, I’m living a nightmare

I will not die (I will not die)
I will survive
I will not die, I’ll wait here for you
I feel alive, when you’re beside me
I will not die, I’ll wait here for you
In my time of dying.”

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Responses

  1. praying for you…


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