“Resurrection is not just for your eternity, but for your journey… He wants us to experience life during.. life.” -Levi Lusko
I came across a picture a few years ago and posted it and just recently it popped back up on the “On This Day” feature on Facebook that shows you things you posted “on this Day” throughout the years. Well I’ve posted some ignorant crap along the way but this stuck out to me in a new way than it did before. I’ve came a long way since then but I needed to share what came up… The picture reads this
and that is a scary truth. What’s even scarier is that most of them “cheering you on” do realize it because they, themselves, feel that too; that earth-shattering, soul-crying, heart-breaking void. This void that seems that no matter what you do it can’t be filled. It doesn’t matter anymore the amount of nights that we can’t remember or the amount of people we’ve slept with because it’s better than the alternative: feeling our brokenness. We mask it as the life of the party but as soon as the sun rises the mask is too constricting. The days, oh the days, are hard. Every ounce of energy is just too much to put into this dull and superficial existence.
We just need to make it to Friday.
If we can just make it to Friday
then it will all be okay again
We choose to live in this never ending cycle that we exist solely for the weekends. This lie that feeling is too hard and our pain is just too deep, it’s too deep for ourselves and others. We convince ourselves that “everyone has their own shit, I don’t need to add mine”, we get caught up in the lies that we’re not created to feel.
As time goes on, we convince ourselves that it’s just been too long; We’re too broken, we’ve made too many mistakes, we’re not pure, we’re filthy, we’re just too much. We let that tape play over and over. The pileup begins. The memories seemingly forever etched into our minds.
It’s easier to lash out, be angry, resent, blame, withhold, be silent, scream, self-harm, intoxicate, abuse, lust, use, retaliate. It’s easier to hold people at an arms reach: never giving them all of me because they don’t deserve it or won’t want all of me. It’s easier to look at yourself in disgust because you don’t know who you are anymore and wear this mask publicly that says: I really am fine.. life is going super great. Yeah, it’s easier to not want to be alone so you don’t have to think. It’s easier to cry yourself to sleep at night. It’s easier to question your existence and purpose daily.
Well, at least that’s what “they” say anyway
I call bullshit. On all of that. It’s not easier. It’s suffocating. The deeper the pile the harder it is to breath. I hated looking around and thinking everyone seems to really be okay but I am about to run out of oxygen. SOMEONE HELP ME:
I’d think this as I was taking another shot, popping another pill, smoking another blunt, sleeping with another man. The pain was crippling and the silence from society spoke loud and clear I DONT LOVE YOU:
That was the response I got back from the world. It was fun when I wanted to go along but silent when I demanded answers.
I NEED TO BREATHE.
I took a step back and examined my life.
Where am I? I thought to myself,
Who am I?, I questioned the person looking back at me,
How did I get here? I laughed,
Is it even possible that there’s better out there for someone like me? Do I even deserve to ask? Is there anybody out there with answers? I don’t even remember how to stand anymore, is that okay? Can they handle me as I am? Does anyone even care that I feel this way?
“JUST BREATHE”, He responds, “The answer to all of these questions is Yes. I have loved you since the beginning. I care for you in a way that may be hard to understand but easy to trust if you let it happen. I care for you in a way that inspires movies, books and art. I have been waiting for you to see me right here with you.. I just needed you to look up. I love you and I am so excited for what’s ahead”
-Papa
