What It's Like...

So here goes.  Here's what it's like.  Living.  Breathing (or lack of).  Surviving.

Without a Mom.

Without a mom, you have to make a lot of decisions on your own.  There's no calling her up and bouncing off of her what kind of dessert you should bring to that potluck, or what she thinks about that guy you're talking to.  There's no advice about boys or diet or sleep or health.  There's no one telling you "no, that's a bad idea, trust me, it sounds good right now but it will definitely backfire, don't do it."  That "motherly voice" is just... gone.  Even from your own head.

Without a mom, there's less of a basis for a healthy lifestyle.  You spend more time as you get older, just sitting in your room, eating Nutty Buddies and watching Netflix.  You spend more time sleeping when you have nothing to do instead of being productive.  The motivation factor is completely gone.  Your only motivation in life is to make a living and, in my case, make others like you.  Which I don't have to tell you is probably not the best basis for life itself.

Without a mom, you get a lot of need to find a Mom figure.  You crave a loving and fun figure that looks out for your wellbeing.  You lust after someone who you can tell anything and everything.  You ache for someone who will just understand what you're going through and love you through it.  You cry out for someone to hold you when your heart is completely broken and pouring out of your eyes.

Without a mom, you test out potential moms.  You almost can't help it.  You joke with her and talk seriously with her and get close to her, hoping that she'll adopt you into her weird pseudo-family.  But when something goes wrong, you get hurt twice, three times, a hundred times as much.  And you sink into the realization of the role you inadvertently thrust that person into in your mind.  The hurt plus the guilt seems like too much to bear.

Without a mom, you attract the people nudge themselves into the Mom-space in your heart.  They have a longing to be something to you and to help you, but it only becomes a begrudging relationship.  You resent them entering your life without your terms and not measuring up to the role they are trying to enter, and you eventually get angry and resent them as a person.  The cycle goes around and around and sends you spinning, because no one can ever be exactly what you want and need.

Without a mom, your friend circle gets smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing until you find the one person who understands you and just wants to be your friend and love you.  And without a mom, you go through a lot of resentment for her as well, resenting that she gets to have a mom and be a mom when you're nowhere near either.  And if you're lucky... VERY lucky... She'll understand that even though you're moody and obsessive and a little bit crazy, she still encourages you and offers you anything you need.

Without a mom, you can still live.  It may feel like you can't.  It may feel like there's no point in working for money that just disappears.  It may feel like you don't deserve to live if she didn't.  It may feel like no one will ever really understand, and that they shouldn't have to.  It may feel like the only thing keeping you alive is the guilt of leaving.  But surely... somewhere, there's hope.

Because without a mom, there HAS to be somewhere to just... keep being.

What is "feeling"?

I haven't written in this blog for a... long time.  I started this blog as an idea from my Mom to put all my feelings out there; to put my emotions into words; to get out whatever was pent up inside of me.  Well here it is.  I don't even know if anyone reads this anymore, but I am.. dying.

Not literally.  I don't have some disease that's eating at my body, but I might as well have.

I watched this video recently that I had posted a year ago, that I don't think I fully understood until now.  It depicted a cancer patient, her family and friends around her, just telling her to get over herself; to see that other people have problems too, and that it's all just in her head.  The ending caption read "You'd never talk like this to someone with cancer.  Don't talk like this to someone with depression."  I mean, last year I posted that believing I was justified in posting it, thinking I had it worse off than I ever could.  Stupid Past Abi.  It can always get worse if you think it can't.

Depression.  I have... depression.  It's been diagnosed with a friggin' doctor, so I guess I can't say it's not true anymore.  And... I've always believed, you know, that one line from Harry Potter, "fear of a name only increases the fear of the thing itself."   And I'm speaking out against the Spirit of Depression that has been... haunting my entire family my WHOLE LIFE.  It has driven us all to do crazy things we would never do apart from it, like striking out against your children or develop a disease because of anxiety and stress or take a blade to your thighs because you can't feel much pain anymore.

So, capper, I'm not doing this at all because I think I'll get attention.  I believe wholeheartedly that no one will read this, and if they do, they will not think that I'm just.. dramatic.  I've gotten that a lot.  But here's why this is a big thing for me:

I was at a Christian Challenge meeting at UNC.  Tuesday night, just like every week.  The last 3 weeks had all ended in tears for me.  Not entirely out of character for me, but still.  And after meeting for a discipleship meeting with my friend, I was sick to my stomach, wanting to just tell her everything, that I had been struggling with an addiction to pornography and cutting for a long time now.  And I was tired of it.  But I couldn't get myself to do it.  So, at Challenge, the message was about our identity, whatever name the enemy was trying to give us, and whether we assume what we've been our whole lives, or we take the new name God gives us.  My identity my whole life had been Alone, Emotional, Dramatic, Oversensitive, Annoying.  And I decided I was tired of being defined by what others think I am like.  I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a prayer request for my mental health and my self-harm tendencies.  I put it to paper.  Out loud, as much as I was able.  And I felt this giant weight off my back.  This nasty evil lizard on my back named Depression was taken aback.

And I mean, I'm not cured.  God is capable of that, but he's not always the short-game kind of guy.  I am still struggling with wanting just to end it all, to indulge in the... "desires of the flesh".  And to make myself feel pain so I know I can feel.  But what I know, more than what the enemy can do to me and put me through, is that God is bigger.  I am not alone, but Loved; not emotional, but Sensitive to those around me; not dramatic but Enthusiastic; and not annoying.  At all.  Just Beloved.  And excited to live life with those I love.

And even though this took me months and months to put into words, I hope this gets to someone.

"Who I am is found in the I Am, I belong to You."  God.  The one who defines and controls my life because I am striving to put him in charge every day.