The Session

Insurmountable emotions

An understanding of brokenness

Loneliness incumbent

Death’s hollow emptiness

Resident of the heart

Purveyor of ills

Torturer of minds

Master of thrills

Words of wisdom

Depression’s deaf ears

Killer’s instinct

Life’s endless fears

Brittle life, brittle bones

Fragile mind, hefty tomes

Suggestible demeanor

Ever, always, kill the dreamer

Empty threats, obscure desires

Hold your breath, extinguish fires

Fear and wanting, all the same

Listen closely, you know my name

A calling in my heart, insurrection

A battle of the mind for my protection

Insistent with its claws, this my depression

Hold your peace; we’re now in session

Eyes

The eyes terrify me. Those chasms of blackness staring back at me. I think I see evil behind them. I see an ugly human being with an ugly mind. I see the sorrow and the anger held behind the eyes, dying to be seen, desperate to come forth. Terror forces me to turn, to look away, to avoid the glances despite the desire to stare. There is no immediate resolution. I simply must forget the eyes when I am not looking at them. Until again, I see those eyes. I have seen them countless times between, but I notice them once more. They are at once fear-inducing and calming. I look more closely, and I realize that the eyes make more sense now. They are matched by a sorrowful face. No fake smile accompanies the doleful eyes. Not evil; out of place. Out of context it is unsettling, this sadness. But when confronted with the undeniable truth of the eyes and the mind behind the eyes, they seem at last in place, if not unwanted. The willingness to acknowledge a feeling can allow for acceptance of the symptoms, understanding of the consequences of emotion. It is difficult to accept the actions of others, not to mention the catalysts within the others' brains. It is even more difficult to accept our own actions, our own anger, our own lack of rationality. The eyes terrify me because if I want to see them, they must see me, piercing into my very soul, seeming to perceive something I cannot, their pupils following mine in the mirror, never relenting, yet never unveiling what secrets they have uncovered.

Finite

Anxiety stems from my finiteness, such definition, such absoluteness. I know that one day I will die. What I don’t know is how or when or why. What kills me even more is that those I love will be no more, torn away before I’m ready, so forlorn. Am I alone in this fear, these tears? Or do we all hold this inside, the bitter idea that we will die? Maybe it’s a natural human tendency; maybe we’re transcended endlessly, never capable of meeting expectations set by an infinite God; maybe we’ve been outdone by the one we laud. Or maybe we’re still holding our belief at arm’s length. If we believe when convenient, then I think we’re all in agreement, this way of life is not deviant. We place standards on ourselves to overcome, but we’re out to overcome the one we can’t even run from.

Evenings

I was watching the lightning in the north sky. It might have been heat lightning. It reminded me of last night when I watched the lightning tear through the sky, the same sky, both brilliant and terrifying at the same time. The fact that I was driving didn't help the matter. The thought of being struck pervaded my mind much of the trip. But this was different. It was far away, not causing explosions in my field of vision, with thunder echoing its response to the fissures of light spreading downward from the heavens. It reflected the internal workings of my being. Just as much as I was panicked last night, I am calm tonight. I am too alone to panic. Loneliness is like a drug. It is an addictive substance that is at once calming and terrifying. Strong emotions flee, unable to resist the pervading force of emptiness, of sorrow. Like the heat lightning in the distance. Perhaps it is something that should frighten. But the subtle beauty of it, the sad solemnity of its silence, drive away all thought of fear. A calmness spreads its way through your body, through your mind, because it feels safe, it feels empty.

Threat

This is not just some childish fear; this is a legitimate threat. But as real as this threat is, the fear itself is what it threatens with. The separation from that which protects. The love we have within us from the God of the universe has the ability to cast out all fear. When we focus on this threat, we are letting go of that love and grasping at fear instead, as though this fear could save us. But it is the love that saves, the power we inherited through that love. The power of the living God within us. The threat they hold over us can only be in the physical realm or in the mental. They can affect our physical world, and we can allow them to infiltrate us with the fear they so desire us to have, letting it grow in our minds. Yet we do not have to do even this. As long as we are under the blood of Jesus Christ and trusting in His love and the power He shows through us, they cannot harm us, and we will not fear them. For as real of a threat as they can be, they have no real power. The only power they have is that which we give them in fear. They can have no affect on us in a spiritual sense. While they can continuously lead us farther from God through deceptions we choose to believe or through the fear that makes it difficult to trust, they cannot take our souls. They have no access to the most important part of our being, the real part of us, as our souls are held by God, and He doesn't ever let go.

[I had a dream that you were dead]

I had a dream that you were dead

There lying still upon your bed

And in this dream I shed no tears

Though it culminated all my fears

I looked upon your pallid face

And saw in it not the slightest trace

Of the life that once had filled your eyes

Yet still from me issued forth no cries

I left with much dissatisfaction

As though disturbed by our transaction

The knowledge had not yet reached my soul

Your death had yet to take its toll

Days passed by, weeks, months, and years

I lived my life without thought of tears

For thus affected was my heart

Through tears of loss did not fall apart

On thoughts of you it did subsist

Though felt as though should not exist

My soul, my being, died that day

With your body was taken away

I shed no tears at your departure

Nor did my heart feel any torture

For when the life had left your heart

Mine felt it wise to soon depart

For though I lived, was not alive

Your heart had died and with it mine

I woke to find it all a dream

As real as life though it had seemed

And even though I realized

I rent the air with many cries

For should my nightmare e’er come true

I knew my heart would die with you

Empty Hands

Every day I asked for this to change, but there was a fear inside of me. A fear that made me question who I am and why I'm so capable of such horrible things. And every single promise that you whispered in my ear, that fear just kept growing until it consumed me. But I let that fear go, and I can see who you are. Your words gave me nothing. I've been running away for too long; I'm not running anymore. I will stand my ground and scream out loud: "My heart won't be yours."

This isn't mine, it's from one of my favorite songs, and possibly my favorite quote of all time from any song, because the implications are so powerful. We don't have to live in fear of what will happen when we do what we need to. There is nothing that we cannot live without besides God. The world will not end if we tell whatever is holding us back to get out of our life, if we tell it we will never belong to it. In fact, we will only be better for it. (The song is Empty Hands by Close Your Eyes).

Painful to the Human Mind

I was writing a paper today on Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and was skimming through the book to refresh my memory, and I saw this:

"Nothing is more painful to the human mind than, after the feelings have been worked up by a quick succession of events, the dead calmness of inaction and certanity which follows and deprives the soul both of hope and fear."

I'm pretty sure this may be one of my favorite quotes now. Because it is so true. I mean, who wants to sit around and do nothing after something has happened that has upset them? And yet, somehow it seems as though that is exactly what always happens after something bad has happened. When I'm upset, I feel as though there is nothing to do and I simply sit around and think. And when you're upset, thinking is exactly what you should not do. Because of course you're going to think about what upset you and nothing is more painful. You have that certainty that Shelley speaks of, knowing that it really did take place. This really is the way things are. There is no hope for the situation, but there's also no fear, because it's over. And it's the worst feeling in the world.

Ephemeral

Ephemeral

So many times I find joy over time, yet find frustration easier.  The joy fades in the light, or rather darkness, of my discouragement.

Why do I let go this joy so easily?  Why do I not hold it close to myself as the treasured possession it is and never let go, for it was meant to last forever?

I know the discouragements will come, but why must they overpower the joy?  Why are they stronger than this beauty I have been given?

The joy should be stronger, everlasting, and not weak and destroyed by frustration’s powerful hand.

But the joy is stronger.  It is never destroyed.  The joy outlasts the frustration, for those evils are short-lived, though often in coming, and this beauty is eternal and ever-present.

The discouragements are not stronger than the joy.  Indeed, it is not the joy that they overpower, but I.

For I refuse to hold onto the joy.  When distractions come into view, my eyes leave the joy.  The joy, this beauty, this gift, falls from my frightened hands.

The joy is still there.  There at my feet.  If only I would but glance down and retrieve it.  But instead I stand fixated by what I fear most.

If only I would turn away, for in so doing it would lose its power over me.  For these distractions are passing.  If I would stay focused on the joy, they would not matter to me at all.

Indeed, should I truly appreciate this joy, I would scorn at any frustration’s attempt to tear my eyes away from the beauty I hold in my heart.

Starting College

     So I'm going to start college this fall.  I started last year, but I only went half time, taking only a few classes each semester.  This year I start FOR REAL. Full time. Living on campus. I don't even know yet who my roommate will be, or if I'll even have one. I'm excited of course, and I made a few friends last year, and I will be so happy to see them.  But this is going to be one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life, I think. It wasn't going to be so bad, because my brother was going to be there, and he is one of the best friends I could ever have. But now he has decided to transfer and he and I will no longer be attending the same school.  He'll be living on campus at another school, so we may not even see each other much. Also, a few of my other friends have left as well, and I didn't exactly have that many friends up there to begin with, partly because I didn't live there last year like everyone else did, and partly because of how shy I am.  And of the friends I do have, I'm not even sure if some of them will talk to me (there are a few who I know will, and I'm eternally grateful to them).  So I'm kind of scared, I guess you could say. I know that I stayed with friends a lot last year, so I'm used to staying at school, but it will be weird to not have a certain time that I know, "I'm going home such and such day," because that will kind of be home then.
     I'm going to miss my family once I'm there. I was homeschooled. I'm not used to being away from my family for a long time. I'm sure I'll get used to it eventually, but it will be weird at first.  I'm going to miss my friends.  I wouldn't see them quite as much anyway, even if I wasn't going off to college, just because they would be in school and all, but last year, I still saw my friends at church and such, or wherever I knew them from. Most of my friends live where I live, or close by. I'm not going to have a car on campus, I don't even know if I'll have my license by then, so I can't just drive and go see people. I'm just going to be stuck there.
     And then there is the fact that my parents want to move, sometime in November, I think. I've lived in the same house for sixteen years - for as long as I can remember. It will be strange to live somewhere else. I have to have all of my stuff packed before I leave for school in 24 days, rather than just the stuff I'm taking to college with me. When I come back for Christmas break, after the first semester, I'll move back into a new house. And again, I will miss my friends. I don't know for sure how far my parents are moving, but we won't be in the same city and I'm going to miss everyone so much.
     And I'll be taking five classes this fall, rather than two or three at a time. I think I'll do okay, but it will be different from last year, and very different from the years before that during which I was homeschooled. So I'm a little worried about the academic side of things.
     So, I don't really know what my point in all this was. I think it was mostly to get it off my chest. To tell someone without having to actually say all of that to someone in real life. I'm really nervous about school, and I keep praying that everything will work out alright. I guess it usually does. Somehow. So hopefully it will this time.