An Open Letter to Life

Dear Life,

I have lost myself, I have lost the confidence it takes to fully take a stand for myself and my life.  You have knocked me down and drug me around so much these past few years that I have found myself loathing you, not believing in you, and wishing you away.  Always a woman of faith I have found myself screaming and crying to a distant and cold God, asking what I must have done to deserve a life of such confusion and disappointment.  I have recently discovered that I am not alone in this thinking, and that this is actually a part of the grieving process.

I AM grieving. I am grieving for you, and all the things I thought you had promised me, all of the stability that was not actually there, all of my false pride, my home, my ideas, and my ideals.  I grieve daily for a life that I had planned and escaped me.  I grieve for the girl I once was, and I grieve for the woman I always thought I was.  I am in a point in you, my life, where I cannot go a day without grieving over something to do with you.  This is not to say I have not been grateful for you, I just wish you would take it easier on me.  I wish you could tell that I am at my breaking point and that no amount of faith seems to be pulling me through.  I wish you would take the time to know me as I have tried to KNOW you.

I wanted to write you, address you, and tell you that I am committing to you. You know how dark my mind has been, and where that leads, so I write this in hopes that you will shine some Grace on me… allow me to breathe again, to feel overwhelming joy, to KNOW myself, and to be okay with you.  I now understand that nothing is owed to me, and that you are ever changing, and that no amount of struggle I set forth will allow me to stop these changes.  I have blossomed in some ways and yet feel so stunted in your wake.

I guess what I am saying, what I need you to know is that I am still here.  I am still waking up every day, still facing these challenges, still grieving, and still allowing myself to feel every fucking thing that you throw my way.  I know you do not owe me anything, but perhaps I owe you something.  I am not sure what exactly you want from me, but I am willing to try, one more time, to listen to you, to learn from you and to grow.  To take one more step towards healthy and whole.  Please show me some mercy, and build my faith in You and myself.

With restored hope,

Craughing

4 thoughts on “An Open Letter to Life”

  1. as long as you have hope and gratitude, you will be ok. You are great, actually. You just don’t believe it. Life on life’s terms blows sometimes. Other times it fucking rules. YOu are a beacon of light.

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  2. Aich. I could have written this 6 months ago. Those were nearly the same words I used, especially the grieving. I know it is cliche, but this, too, shall pass. You will find your way to a bright tomorrow. It is there, waiting for you. Hugs for you, my friend.

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  3. I wrote something similar on my blog a few months ago. I believed Toni Bernard’s words, which I quoted, in my piece. Then a few days later my dog, my beloved Baco collapsed, and I had to let him go. No one – not my family nor my friends – seem to grasp what this dog meant to me. I cry privately now. On the rare occasion, I do share my feelings with a family member, it gets glossed over.

    I’m learning quickly to keep quiet and try to heal my heart on my own. It’s hard to heal, though, when every fiber of your “being” is in pain … physically and emotionally. So, I understand and live your grief with you.

    ❤ Wrapping my heart around your heart ❤

    http://meandmyfibro.blogspot.com/2012/02/its-my-party-and-ill-cry-if-i-want-to.html

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