The waiting is the hardest part

Tomorrow is Scott's birthday. Days like this it hits me suddenly what happened and I feel short of breath. Not because it is so hard still (although it is not easy), but because when I think of the actual facts of what happened, I can't believe I have come out of it as unscathed as I am.

The worst part is the not knowing. That is also the sweetest. When a relationship hasn't worked out, I can clearly see why and watch the person and I grow apart. Not in this case. So many, many what-ifs. He was trying to get better when he died, which was so hard to hear. What would he have been like during and after rehab? what would have happened if he had cleaned up and we had gotten married...what would my life look like? For so long I wanted to see some redemption from it all. These days that is coming a little more easily.

I have a lovely, lovely life currently. I am in a good place and think my life is where it is for a reason. However, I think I will always wonder what would have happened if I had married that boy who was just so damned crazy about me. Who was lost and sad, but so fun and happy and joyful in the midst of it all. I think the possibilities and the wondering are a gift from God to make this easier. I can imagine the best and not relive the worst. Plus, I don't have to think about what have happened had he not gotten help, but spiraled into a life of drugs and pain, with or without me in it. He won't have to worry about bringing pain to me, his family and his friends.I can rest knowing he is where there are no tears or pain. I like that.

Happy Birthday Scott. May 6 will always be a special day to me.

How deep is that river?

Thanks Fred O for introducing me to the song from which this post is named (By Mason Jennings). I have been listening to it a lot today.

This post is going to be angry and heavy, so if that is not your thing, you might want to click on another Blog (there are lovely ones on the right side).

Someone I know died today. I was not close to him (although he unknowingly had an impact on my life...as proof that there are still good men out there). His death has had a huge impact on me today. I am sure that is from my still fresh wound, but it sucks nonetheless. I don't understand. What the fuck is God doing? Dewayne is married, so his wife is now a widow. Tonight, I am having a really hard time believing that God does not hate women.

We were created to be helpers. So, why am I alone? Why is Cheryl now alone? Why are so many great, great women alone? The very thing that we are created to yearn for is taken away or not given. WHY? What is the purpose? I don't understand. I know that I am supposed to trust and not understand...but I need something. It is getting harder and harder to believe in a God that does things like this. I try hard to do as I believe He is leading me. Where has that gotten me? Alone and sad.

I know, I know...I have great friends and a good job, great apartment, health. I am thankful for those things. But right now, that is not enough. If God has put these yearnings in me, then I want him to show up. Quickly. Because I am not sure how much longer I can be brave and trust him.

I think that this is what is known as a 'crisis of Faith'. Great.

The lyrics to this song can be found here. The ones that have been in my head all day are;
Before I put my trust in you, I just want to know how deep.

yes, how deep?

My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you

That REO Speedwagon song has been in my head for days. Strange!

Thanks for all of the kind notes and calls and emails the past few days. I didn't realize that post sounded so sad. That was not my intention, but so be it.

Well, I decided it was time for action. This little funk seems to have settled it's happy ass down and decided to stay for a visit. One things i have learned over the past few years is this- "Fake it till you make it". In other words, do things that you used to enjoy and maybe eventually you will enjoy them again. I am not going to go around smiling and denying that I am unhappy, but I am also not going to give in and go to bed.

Last night I cooked dinner for a 2 close friends and enjoyed their company. I tried not to beat myself up that I had not gone to get drinks with other friends who had invited me. Cooking was good for me, as was some gardening and taking photographs. After dinner, we made butter! I have been wanting to do this for a while, so John decided to teach me (it involves a lot of shaking and some dancing and laughing). Let me tell you, homemade butter is awesome. Creamy and light. I had it on toast for breakfast and was happy.

This weekend I am going canoeing again, something that is very life giving to me. The water, the sun, the trees, using my muscles...I love it. I never used to be an 'outdoorsy' person, but this year I am discovering my inner naturalist and athelete! I am also hoping to have another friend for dinner and beer and laughing.

And The Beatles are helping as well. and Wilco. And Feist. Tristan and J Mraz. G Love. Good, happy summertime music. Well, Wilco Sky Blue Sky isn't happy, but comforting.

These things may not make the sadness go away, but at least it will make it bearable. I don't want to have a year pass me by in a grief induced stupor. My life is different now, but it is still my life. Incoporating the grief into my life seems to be the key to survival. Don't deny it, but don't make a bed for it to sleep in either.

I am sure there will be lots of pictures coming up. I have a few of the butter churning that I need to put up. I am not sure making butter has ever been so physical or hysterical!

you see, i've been to hell and back so many times, I must admit you kind of bore me

I was hoping to have a happier post today, but no such luck. I still feel as I did when I wrote my last post. The tears keep welling up but refusing to free themselves, and me, in the process.

This weekend I did everything that I could to shoo them away. I drank too much, flirted too much...all of the many things that I used to to push them down.

Yet here it is Monday, and I still feel the same way (and hungover!). The good thing is that I recognize my futile attempts to mask my loneliness. That is some growth...a tiny seedling. It is making me laugh a little to see how easily I turn back to the things that I search for solace in. Unhealthy things that I was sure I was done with. As though the last 5 months has erased these tendencies and I am past them. Not so much. It is only when I think that do I get into trouble. My pride weakens me. I am grateful that I can see them for what they are, laugh at my foibles and try again to resist.

I am hopeful.

I will leave you with a picture of the bounty that I brought home (free!) after Brewfest. Too bad the thought of drinking one makes my pounding head pound ever harder...

A little note

Have you ever felt like crying for no reason whatsoever? That is how I feel tonight. The tears are so close. Nothing has happened to make these tears come tonight, it is more of a heaviness that I know will linger. As though these tears may take away some of the weight of the past 5 months, a general weariness that sometimes I forget about.

Just sending this to the great abyss out there.

Good night abyss.

Redemption

This was to be my wedding day. It was a lovely day with friends who celebrated life with me.

Beauty in the ruins.

Not so usual

Not too much to write currently. Times are hard right now. Scott's birthday is next Tuesday, and next Saturday is the day I was supposed to be married. I am trying to wrap my head around the fact that this is actually my life. I find that I am better at choosing safety, but sometimes safety seems boring. Something to get used to, I guess. To learn and practice.

Things are quiet in my life and subdued. I am looking forward to Jazz Fest this weekend. A few days of sun and music (Stevie Wonder!) and beer and amazing food certainly can't hurt right now. oh, and dresses. Light, cotton dresses.

This post may sound hopeless, but I'm not. I know that one day this will be redeemed and soon enough the laughter will come easily. Just not today.

sucks.

My garden is growing like crazy though. That is fun to watch and be a part of. I also get to go to a Birthday Celebration for a friend tonight. Happy Birthday Charlotte!

ciao friends

Weekend round-up

This weekend was full of friends and parties and art and weirdness. I am exhausted, physically and emotionally, so forgive me if this entry is a bit spacey.

Friday my friend Jenn came to stay with me. Jenn has been in Malawi, Africa for six months as a missionary, so I was very glad to see her. So glad that I gave up my Friday night routine for her! She, Carrie and I talked and laughed and caught up until the wee hours (or midnight, which seems really late these days).

Saturday we both slept till 11! Then we got up and sat outside in my garden area and ate veggie omelets and drank too much coffee for a few hours. I caught her up on my life (when she left I had just gotten engaged, so lots has happened...), and it was a lovely morning. Around 2:30, we decided to get dressed and go to lunch. An afternoon with good food and shopping and bookstore browsing commenced. This was followed by a going away party for Brent at Cal's house. It was very nice, with different groups of people and babies and food and cigars and beer. I floated in and out of all of the groups and generally had a good time.

I am in such a weird place right now. I am simply not very comfortable in big groups. This is a big change for me, as I have always been very social and am really good in big groups. Now however, I feel out of place. I know that it is because I am changing so much and trying to fit the changes into my life, but it still sucks. I am either really quiet (which I am ok with), or I become 'life of the party' Elisa. Center of attention, joking, being silly. I DO NOT like this Elisa. One day I will be able to be that person again in public, but now it feels strange and I want to crawl under a rock. My life feels quieter, so I am more comfortable being quieter and calmer. Does that even make sense? Anyway, the party was really nice and it was good to see old friends and get to talk to Brent and wish him well.

Sunday was brunch with a family that I love. They are family to me, and I am so grateful to have them in my life. There is something beautiful about being able to go to someone's house and be 'Sisa', and eat food with them and be with them as they go about regular life. Help myself to their coffee and read stories with their kids. I love it. Later, after a lovely hour on the Starbucks patio, Jenn and I went to Magic City Art Connection. It was my first time there and I really dug it. I bought some lovely jewelry, some as gifts for others, some as gifts for me. On to church. Again, it was nice. The sermon was about Death, and I think that I have some questions for Tom, but will deal with that later...

After church I went to Surin with my friend Liz and her Community Group. Again, a big crowd. Again, hilarious Elisa was out. I had a good time,but was a bit awkward being around young married couples, as my wedding date was to be 2 weeks from Saturday. I am gearing up for a sucky start to May. Scott's birthday is the 6th, wedding date on the 10th, Honeymoon 12-20. sigh. I don't want those days to come and go. I don't want to wake up on May 10 and go canoing instead of get married. I want to have my wedding and wear my dress and dance to The Spots and become his wife and start our lives together. That is what I want.

I digress.

All in all, a nice weekend. Bittersweet. One of the best parts was realizing how much I love my apartment and what retreat from the world it is. Well, I am exhausted tonight and looking forward to resting a bit this week. Next weekend is Jazz Fest(!) and I am very much looking forward to that. I do love Festival Season!

Thanks friends, for sticking with this. Thanks for the beers and the support and for letting me be melancholy or silly or loud or insecure or honest or awkward or quiet. It is appreciated. Have a great week!

Cooking the heart

It is amazing how much food and cooking go along with life. What I mean is, how cooking a certain meal can make you feel great, or feel gross, or feel guilty, or whatever other feelings you feel while eating. Food invokes emotion. I can't eat a quesadilla without thinking about my Abuelita, or sausage without thinking of dad, and Rice pilaf of Mom and holiday meals. It is nearly impossible to eat a crawfish without reminiscing about childhood crawfish boils (my first memory) and beer and sun in college.
Cooking denotes care as well. Soup when you are sick, a fancy meal for a special occasion, meals for new parents...we do it out of care. To nurture and love. Taking the time to prepare a meal for someone is giving a bit of yourself.
Lately I have turned to cooking as a time to slow down and rest. It has also been a wonderful comfort to me. Last weekend after a long week, Dad met me with a cooler full of crawfish. That night I sat at my table, paper towels nearby, beer in hand, G love playing as the skies dumped rain and the alarms sounded. It felt like home. All felt ok for the moment. The smell of a roasting chicken takes the sting out the phone call from Bed Bad and Beyond inquiring about your registry, and the zillionth email from Martha Stewart Wedding (btw, if you register anywhere they sell your name, so you get every wedding related thing ever. beware). Lunch of homemade risotto makes the windowless cubicle feel a bit more homey.

Such is the case today. I had a lovely day in Waverly at the Old 280 Boogie. I sat in the sun, drank beer, listened to music, hung out with friends and bought some T-shirts. My kind of day. As I was swaying my head to the beat, I saw Scott's brother, Jake and his girlfriend (fiance?) and his cousin. I was genuinely glad to see them so we chatted a bit and hugged a bit and laughed a bit. I told them the story of dancing with Scott in the Print shop last May, and wanting him to ask me on a date so badly. It was a nice surprise.

On the way home, sunburned and exhausted, I began to sadden. Scott and I planned to go to the festival this year, and we had such a fun time last time. At some point, we talked about how that night was the one that made us both really dig each other. The people I saw today were to be my family. So I got home, showered and headed to the kitchen. Dinner was (semi) Homemade spaghetti sauce with buffalo meat. Delicious and filling and comforting. Good, fresh ingredients and a tried and true recipe. It warmed me. My sadness has softened to a dull ache. Thankfully.

I will leave you with a recipe. This has been requested since I posted about it last week. It is a meal that was redemptive for me in so many ways, so seems fitting to post tonight, when I need reminding that God doesn't leave me.

Risotto with Fried Egg
from Apples for Jam

3 tablespoons butter ( I prefer unsalted)
4 tablespoons Olive Oil
2 Shallots ( i used a 1/2 cup chopped white onion)
1 and 2/3 cup risotto rice
1/2 cup White Wine (I used White wine vinegar, and it was a bit tart, but the eggs help with that, as well as the cheese)
4 cups hot Vegetable Broth
Freshly grated nutmeg (didn't have so used Herbs deProvence)
Salt
1/2 cup grated Parmesan or Grana cheese
About 8 fresh sage leaves
4 eggs, at room temperature
Grated Parm cheese to serve
Freshly ground black pepper to serve

Heat half the butter and 2 tbs of oil in a heavy bottomed pan suitable for risotto ( I used a large saucepan). Saute the shallots over low heat until light gold and then stir in the rice with a wooden spoon. Stir for a few minutes to completely coat the rice and let it cook just a bit. Add the wine, and when it has evaporated, add all of the broth. Add a few good grinds of nutmeg and taste for salt (broth is probably seasoned enough). Simmer uncovered over high heat for about 15 minutes, or until the rice has completely absorbed much of the liquid (you will need to stand around stirring it pretty frequently). If it seems it needs a bit more liquid, add some hot water. Remove from heat and stir in remaining butter and the Parmesan cheese. Taste for salt, adjusting if necessary. Leave with the lid on so that the steam continues to cook the rice.
Heat the remaining oil in a nonstick frying pan and briefly fry the sage leaves until crisp. Remove with tongs. Gently break the eggs into the pan and sprinkle a bit of salt on the yokes (I must recommend fresh farm eggs...there is really no better tasting, smoother egg). Cook until the edges of the white are a bit golden. Cover the pan with a lid and fry until yokes are just slightly opaque on the surface but still soft on the inside (they are best when the undersides are golden and a bit crisp).
Scoop the rice onto serving plates and top each serving with an egg and couple of sage leaves, being careful not to break the yoke. Serve with a sprinking of Parmesan and a few grinds of black pepper.

I served this with a side of asparagus and a few pieces of bacon. It was wonderful. Sweet, tart, salty, creamy. The Asparagus shined and the bacon was a wonderful, sweet counter to the tart risotto. Enjoy!

So many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out tryin' to live

I was reading a book called "Healing after Loss', which is not something I would normally read, but nothing is normal now...so I thought what the heck.
I digress.

Anyway,at the end of the 1st day, the prayer said in it "May I honor-and trust-the processes of grief and healing,..."

That hit me. hard. That is what I need, that is what God is calling me to. Trust. He has me here, right now, in all of my messiness for a reason. I have no earthly idea what that reason is, but I need to trust it. I know, deep down, that all of this will someday make sense in my larger story. Even the things that I am clinging to and overdoing (gardening, cooking, reading) are good and life-giving and closer to who I really am than many of the things I have clung to in the past (fashion, alcohol, approval from men). I can feel change in me, slow and painful, but it is good and it feels right. These sorrowful nights are making me long for heaven and lean on him more. Feel my aloneness as opposed to running from it and grasping to fill it. It sucks, but I have to trust that it is good. I think that may be the hardest part of being a Christian, at least for me. But isn't that what it is all about? Bearing your cross and trusting that you are bearing it for a reason, even when that reason seems so far away and what you want to do more than anything is shrug it off and walk away? Yet you keep struggling, even though all reason says to run like hell, because you hope that one day it will be lifted. Faith and hope...they are so connected. Hope is the thing that keeps my faith alive and faith is the hope that God will show up again, just like he has before. That everything I believe is true and there will be a day when there are no tears.

My entire existence feels like repentance right now. As though all of the changes I am making and all of the new, safe habits I am cultivating are saying "ok, I will chose to wait on beauty, I will not choose chaos." I said to Gordon (side note: Gordon Bals is the best counselor I know and he and his partners have a beautiful ministry. You can find out more about it here.), "Normal life feels too hard", and that was a big revelation to me. Abnormal, chaotic life has always been my way, what I am used to, how I deal. Trying on safety feels strange, but good. Honest. Repentant. Saying to God "I don't know what the hell I am doing, but I know that I am going to try my hardest to trust you and wait on you, instead of relying on the the things I am used to".

Someone commented on this post that we need to fight back against the pain and the sorrow so as not to be held captive by it (it is said so much more eloquently there so check it out). What I thought was 'YES'. I think that for me that looks like leaning into beauty more, leaning into the things that are life-giving, not succumbing to chaos and falsities. Not listening to lies, such as "you better take what bits of beauty you can find, because nothing more is coming your way" or "you attract chaos, you will never escape it". those are lies. I don't know what God has in store for me, but this dark time is part of it and I want, no, need to trust that. It is going to be hard and everyday will be a battle, but I want to fight it.

And if there is anything I can say I am, it is a fighter.

I try to keep myself occupied, 'cause I know you're not coming home

Here is the truth that I have been hiding for a few weeks. I am not doing well. At all. If any of you were wondering why I have been so distant, that is why. Probably also why I have been blogging like crazy...so as not to have to really talk to anyone and distract myself.

I am a mess. Every night I cry, weep myself to sleep. At least an hour of this. I can't stop buying shit that I know won't make Scott come back. I hate my new apartment (don't get me wrong, it is very nice and lovely, but i resent it and everything it means). I invite people to come over, hoping that it will make me like it more. Nope, not at all. I pore through garden books and homey catalogs, thinking that maybe new curtain, or kitchen gadget or, hell, even a new bed will make me like it more. Even my couch is not comforting, which is surprising, for those of you who know me well. I have called in to work 3 days in 2 weeks.

I am tired. Physically and emotionally. I will soon also be broke. I wake up everyday and get ready to put on my happy face and 'do the day'. What I really want to do is make a sheet out of Scott's t-shirts and sleep in it. Maybe get up to ride my bike to a coffee shop, but mostly just sleep. The loneliness is oppressive and overwhelming. I thought that time was supposed to make things easier. It seems to be getting harder and harder every day.

I pretend to be hopeful, but I don't think I am. I don't want to take any more chances, I don't want to get hurt again. I am not sure that I can take it. My whole future just disappeared. What do I do now? Move to cali? Go to school? Stay here? Even the thought of going to church exhausts me b/c of the hurt there. I want somewhere to feel safe, and right now nowhere does.

When folks ask how I am going I can't seem to muster the courage to be honest. I shrug and say 'ok', or 'I just bought a bike!'. Somehow it is easier to post it here (I am screwed up, I know). I am lacking in the bravery area currently.

A good friend put on his Christmas Post "I hope for hope". That sentiment comes to mind literally every day since I read it. That is what I am hoping for as well...hope.

February 3, 2008

Sometimes in the middle of a conversation, or driving, even sitting listening to live music, I will be overwhelmed by a sadness so deep and sudden that is as though someone has knocked the breath out of me. I look around, thinking that someone could have seen it coming and warned me. Alas, it is just me and my sadness. I want to scream "How can you just be sitting there as if nothing just happened?!" It is in those moments that I feel profoundly alone.

That is the thing with pain. We can help each other carry it and share it, but no one can truly understand our pain. No one can really understand why seeing my halloween mugs makes break me down and cry everytime. Or that, at least once a week, I see a truck that looks like Scott's and I honk and wave, before realizing that he is not in that truck and I will never again see him driving.

It is in our pain that we are most alone here. We can't count on anyone to be able to speak into it, into our broken hearts. There's only one person who can do that. When I am feeling my weakest and most alone, I really feel Jesus saying "I know, this is hard and it is so broken. I am weeping with you". And I really believe that he is. As much as I yell and sob to him, demanding to know why, why this happened, I deep down know that he is as sad as I am. It turns it from an overwhelming 'I can't breath' sadness to a peaceful sadness that I know is temporary and understood. Almost beautiful.

Thank God for that.

Who am I now?

Right now, I am trying to figure out how to incorporate this loss and pain into my life. Now that the newness is over, how do I live my life? When you get a cut it heals back, but often it heals back a little bit differently than how it once was.

How I am going to heal back? What are the scars going to look like? Will the pain always be here, but changed? Everything feels very unsure to me. As though I am in a new town and everything looks vaguely familiar, but I am not exactly certain of where anything is or how to get anywhere. Familiar yet strange and changed.

At least I am not alone. No one here can fully understand me, but I know that I am not alone. My Father understands me, and that is what I clinging to right now. With all of my might. During the nights when I toss and turn and weep and wonder...He is what I cling to. Even when I lamenting and moaning and pleading with Him to help me understand...He is what I cling to.

What else is there to cling to?

indescribable

I have had a tragedy happen in my life, and am taking a break from blogging. Thank you to my friends for being my friends.

To a more restful 2008.

adieu

It's beginning to feel a lot like Christmas...

I will be spending yet another Christmas brokenhearted. I am starting to hate this holiday.

I am so glad that I have friends who will invite me over to eat Christmas breakfast with them and their children, who love me as well.

celebrations and lamentations

The past week has been a whirlwind of emotions. I set a wedding date (May 10!), booked a honeymoon (Athens, Greece!), bought a dress. What wonderful things.

I have also found out a friend is more ill than I ever thought possible. An evil, ugly illness that sneaks in and takes control. It is sad and scary. She was supposed to go wedding dress shopping with me, but cancelled at the last minute, which is strange for her, especially for something important (yes, shopping for a dress is very important). I was disappointed and concerned. Now, I could not care less that I went dress shopping alone. I just want my friend well. For her husband, children, friends, family and me. I have had a ton of changes lately, and I think that losing her may just be the undoing for me (she is not dying, by the way, but I do not want to say more). I love her. She and her family have been my family for the past few years, during some of the hardest times in my life. And recently, with my engagement and new job and major life changes, they have been constant. I miss her. I love her. Even if she is not the same for a long, long time, I will still love who she is and what she is. Normalcy may not occur soon, if ever, but I hope to be here to love her and her family in all the messiness that this may involve.

On to other news:
The wedding planning is going well. I found a dress for only $230! Grandma wants to pay for the band, a huge relief. Scott is doing the food and picking things is really fun (marrying a foodie is a huge bonus!!). It is not without its challenges, like changing the date 3 times. Not to mention the enormous task of beginning to combine my life with another and start the slow process of becoming one (spiritually, not physically, Mom!). I know why people say engagement is hard, because it is. But so worth it and so beautiful.

Here is my dress: click below to see it

only mine is ivory, and I will look like me and have on MUCH cuter shoe and no choker. and it will fit better...but you get the drift!

ordinary things

So, I made my first Tote Bag! I love it. it was very fun.

that's all about that.

I am (along with many others) struggling with God's love. I just don't get it. Or I guess that I just want God to love me how I want to be loved. I don't want to be sanctified this way. Can't I pick my cross to bear? One that doesn't feel so heavy? I see all these wonderful people around me struggling to carry theirs and I just want to cry. Often I feel that I can't help them carry theirs because mine is weighing me down too much. I want to throw it aside and help people i love as they struggle under the weight of their burdens. It seems to me that THAT is what our time here is for...to help each other carry our crosses and encourage each other along the way.
I think I am looking for hope, and a reason for pain. Because it doesn't make sense to me. I can look back and see where pain has helped me, but...I don't know, can't God just do it? I realize that I sound like a petulant child, but I am tired of pretending like I always believe that pain is good. I am actually sick of it. I want a break. I want my friends to get a break. It is hard for me to enjoy beauty because I am scared of what is next. sigh. Maybe someday I will be able to trust God fully, but I don't see it happening anytime soon. And I certainly don't see me making it happen. He is going to have to show up and make it so. I am not capable.

How I am like Dave Eggers (or the story of this week)

So, this week has been pretty rough. Have not written in a while, b/c I did not even know where to start. So, I am going to start at the best place to start; the beginning.
My family is a wreck. Seriously, like Jerry Springer. I am still not sure when it got this bad. I guess it started after I was born and my father began his string of adultery and drug use. However, no one knew it was bad until 17 years later when he was caught and my mom kicked him out the day after Christmas. Merry Christmas kids! ANYWAY, it has been a sad, downward spiral since then. oh yes, and he has MS and is bipolar. (as a side note, it is ridiculously cathartic to write all of this.) Fast forward 10 years. My mother is remarried and moving to Milwaukee and taking my little sister. 1 month later, my stepfather threatens Ash, so she quickly has to move in with my Dad. 3 weeks later, my stepfather beats up my mom. She decides that this is ok, and takes him back, officially alienating Ashley from her life. Fast forward until now. Ashley has no respect for my dad, and is angry and acting out (duh). Runs away to her best friend/boyfriends house. What makes me so sad about this is that no one can see that Ashley is angry at my parents for effectivly abandoning her. All anyone can talk about is what a terrible person she is. I can see now that if they admit that she is angry and confused they have to admit that they abandoned her. It is easier for them to blame it on their emotionally wrecked 17 year old daughter. It is a very lonely place realizing that no one in your family sees what you see, and are angry with you for seeing it. My other sister will not talk to me (we had just patched up a lifelong bad relationship). My Dad only talks to me to be manipulative. My mother...well, I don't know what the hell she is doing, but she refuses to acknowledge any feelings at all.
back to the story: I drove to get Ashley, praying the whole time that God would help me figure out what to do. I decided that I would invite Ashley to live with me. We spent 2 days looking for apartments in Hoover (gross!), and going to her old school to enroll her, etc. Each thing we did reminded me that we are alone in this. I have no idea how to parent. I did it because Ashley needs to see that someone in our family is willing to make sacrifices for her. That she can fuck up and will still be loved. Well, last night, Ashley decided that she would rather go back and live with her boyfriend. I have to let her go, my heart breaking the whole time. She is moving into a 2 bedroom house with 7 people, including her boyfriend and her best friend and her best friends baby. Also 9 dogs. 1 bathroom. Why would she choose this over a stable place to live with me? I am hurt and confused. And, I confess, a little glad that I do not have to turn my life upside down, which I feel terrible for feeling.
This all feels like too much for one person to handle. It is reminding me of my lonliness. Making my yearn for Heaven. Forcing me to depend on God. I know that God has chosen me to suffer and that is a good thing, a gift. But, most of the time, I wish he would leave me the hell alone and choose someone else. I am weary. Overwhelmed. I can say this, occasionally, in the moments before I drift off to sleep, I feel so close to Him that it is all worth it.

I deleted this post. It felt too personal to put out for the world to see.