Reflections

My heart...it speaks...it yearns. I do not know if I am mourning. I do not understand how I should feel. I do not know if I am sad. What am I?

I am so lost. My past still haunts me. Should I know why I cry? I was asked that many times, because I do it a lot. But when I'm alone, I don't ask myself--I just do it. Yet in the presence of people, I inquire such actions.
Where do I stand amongst all of these people? Who can I really talk to? I hardly talk to any of my friends anymore. I hardly even talk to my own sisters; only the little one would give me a comment about her day, which really brightens my face as I smile or laugh at the cute things that comes out of her mouth.

I have been wanting to help my family, and yet sometimes I feel that I can't even help myself. Is there ever an end of such cycles? Can I be strong one day and pray that it could last more than a day?

I want to yell, scream, and pound on all of the doors that are in front of me. I want in! At least I feel this all in my head. I think too much. In my mind, I need to be set free--but from what? I am not entirely sure. What is it that have been holding me back? I could name many things, but then again, do I want to be free from everything? Are those not the thoughts of a suicidal person? "To Be Free.." What do those words indicate? Everyone wants to be free one way or another.

I have been told that I am not in control, but that God is.

But have you ever felt as though you're holding up a giant piece of dough and as you're holding, you feel some parts slipping down and away from your fingertips so you try to catch them before they can fall to the ground. How long can you keep doing? Within some time, you will get tired with the weight on your hands, and you just don't care anymore about holding it so you place it on the table. Maybe this is not the best analogy to "control" but that's how I feel inside of me. I thought I could "fix" a part of me that seems battered emotionally, wrong, or hateful. I thought I could change. I wanted to. But as I was trying too hard to keep one part from slipping away so that I could still fit in into my hands, another part was sliding away from the edge of my fingertips. I cannot save everything about myself. I must learn that. I MUST. After all, I am not in control, but God is. It's a tough thing to imagine sometimes, because as human beings, we want so many things to be within our own control--to believe that we can somehow change things because we say we can. It's not enough to say that I believe but sometimes need to do. Where am I going with this? I'm not sure yet. Still thinking.... I guess... I want to say that I believe in God and his plans for me. I have to put my life and my faith into his hands; because they are big enough to hold the weight of the world and because He is my Father and he cares for me. Should all daughters try to understand everything that their dad does for them? Should they try to judge his actions just because he prevents them from going out or sleeping over with some friends? Haven't we learned enough that our parents care for us to the point where they want to protect us from harm?

I am still that rebellious teenager who wants to be independent and in control of her own life but still I do not have enough resources to live on. I don't have the mentality yet to face the world on my own, nor do I think I ever will be able to. I need a parental figure in my life. I need to know that someone still loves me, even though I am wrong--even though I have made a mistake.

God, I have already accepted you as my Father. But sometimes I do accuse You of Your actions. I say that You aren't really there for me. You're there one day and then You're gone the next. So here I am, I must try to fight for my own life. I must try to learn for myself. I must be strong because You're gone. But I am weak. I cry. I am hurt. I curl up in my bed with tears rolling down my cheeks, because I wanted to know if You would always be there for me. I am so lost. I love You.

Do you know the weirdest thing about this is that I am really thinking about my earthly father? Because of my perspective on my dad, I question God and His motives. I feel as though my dad doesn't really love me or believe in me. My father.....Why is it that when I take a look at his picture with his smile, I am in tears? Why is my head crying out to him, wanting to hug him and for him to hug me back?.... But do I really want that? Whenever I see him, I can hardly stand around him or to look his way. Maybe that's just my rebellious attitude--to tell him that I don't need him and that he's not wanted. Yet, I keep imagining him happy around me and giving him hugs and kisses and telling him that I love him.

I feel that I cannot trust people; that people wouldn't want to be around me; that somehow I am not wanted. I drive myself crazy with emotional pains sometimes. I don't want that anymore. I feel that this problem of mine that I attributed to myself is really getting in the way of my other relationships between friends or ex-boyfriend.
I don't know, but my ex is a different story.

I'll stop it here.