Posted by: bandaidchild | August 11, 2010

Where I’ve been.

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged, and it’s definitely been a while since I wrote in my own paper journal.

I can’t tell exactly what my solemn demeanor lately is due to. Maybe it’s my schedule. Maybe it’s because Overnightville makes you feel like you’re in a cloud during the daylight hours, and some things are more laborious than they were when you slept when it was dark like a normal person and arose with the sun, instead of the other way around.

I was offered a job I really, really wanted. I didn’t know quite what the position would entail, but I will share this: the amount of information I need to retain is astronomical!

And every shift I wrestle with focusing too much on the things I am not remembering, and all the ways I need to be prompted to accomplish things. Instead of patting myself on the back for how far I’ve already come, I find anything (proverbially or otherwise) to whip myself on the back.

And this is what I’m used to.

But for the first time, maybe ever, I’m finally understanding how harmful this is, and how I can really ruin my life with this line of thinking and subsequent action.

My thoughts might as well be compared to quick sand. And despite being an active participant in CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy), I’m still fairly uncertain on how to rectify these thoughts.

which has led me to believe that I’d been ignoring spiritual implications for a long time. So in a few weeks I’m going to address my quick sand, my whipping. . . all of it.

And part of me feels like I should be on the show Hoarders- because I’ve accrued dumb things I don’t need, but can’t seem to part with. If you’re not familiar with the show, here’s the premise: someone’s life has been ruined with stuff. They’ve alienated themselves by shoving crap in every crevice of their home, so that no one can even come into their home. A therapist attempts to help the individual see what their cushioning is doing to their relationships and their ability to cope with even simple bumps in the road. Items don’t leave people; people leave people, which is the appeal for hoarders as I understand it. While I don’t fear being left, I am afraid of parting with comfort. While my methods of comfort are, by all means, maladaptive, they still are more natural to me than what I know I need to be doing.

I’ve adopted theories, ideas, and lies that have attached themselves to me like crustaceans, and I get so used to them being there that I forget they weigh me down, make me look ugly even, and are not a part of who I am.

So begins the ripping. This won’t be like ripping a band-aid off, though. This is gonna be more like. . . ripping home-made stitches made out of fishing line in order for the Doctor to sew me back up the right way, so that I’ll heal the right way.

And those stitches will still take a while to heal. And I’ll beg to scratch and rip them out, but I can’t. If my hands need to be tied behind my back, I will let Him do what He needs to do, and I will trust Him to heal me because He is a God of healing, and not of destruction. He is the God is restoration, even if it involves some ripping.

Wish me luck.

Barnacles Attached To Rock Royalty Free Stock Image

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