Being Me

I feel incredibly lost at times as I struggle to find closure in my life. It's a Saturday morning, my alarm is set for 8 am wake up, the last day of my adventure in Albuquerque. But, in spite of my highest hopes, this morning is like any other over a period of a year and a half. Explaining to my inquisitors why I cannot sleep, or how I try to sleep, has become as routine as explaining other things in my life I had buried deeply to preserve my sanity. Now unearthed in my memory, I struggle to find peace as I reconcile the chaos of my life and struggle to bring memories to rest. How can I explain what is happening to me? What has been happening to me? What did happen to me? All I can say is it could have been worse, and I am improving. I didn't give up, and I won't give in. No matter what the verdict, no matter what the cost in pain and tears. I have chosen to go on.

This is where I post the image of the painting  "The Scream" by Edvard Munch to express my horror at not being able to rest or find peace after my final, I sincerely pray, inquisition:

This image does not adequately portray present pain or lack of dignity or any of the zillion emotions agonizingly vying for my sanity. I feel so alone at this moment, as I sit in my bed at La Quinta Inn, exhausted from headsets and movies, resulting in little sleep. This is my life, such as it is, but it could be worse. It has been worse, much worse about nine or ten years ago when I still could not sleep. Different life. Different time. Different circumstances.

In spite of what I am saying in this dismal piece of literature, I still say without reserve that I have lived an amazing life. How could I not? I have always had Jesus with me. He's always been my one true constant. He still is, and He's the reason I can still laugh at myself and this silly mess I find myself struggling to overcome. Sure, sure...yeah, yeah! That's the response to the comment I am making inside my brain, the one I don't want to write, because certain people will find offense. You see, I don't want to "hurt" anyone's feelings, but obviously no one thinks I have any. But I hurt too, and I bleed.

Why am I writing this? Because I'm tired, and I'm trying to encourage myself to just get up, take my shower, walk the distance to the office with my "kitchen" in tow (no microwave or refrigerator in my room), so I can fix my "special" breakfast, sit in an empty corner, where I can cozy up with my Source of comfort, my Strength and Guide, my one true Friend, my Laughter, my Light, my Life. There are many things I have not experienced in my long life, but I believe I have what most do not. I was reminded once again of the road I am asked to travel, and although lonely, painful at times, and often disconcerting, it is the life I choose to walk with the One I choose to walk it with. He'll see me through, as He always has in the past, and together we'll find good in the events of my life, past and present, and give hope to others journeying the irrevocable paths of life.