20 11 2013

Do you ever grow weary of being strong? I was taught in times like these that Jesus was there to carry me through. I believed that for a long time. A long time.
And then there was that time I was on my knees before a rainbow colored window, begging Jesus to make the voices go away. To make that dull mocking laughter coming from over my shoulder go away. To make those thoughts stored in the back right corner of my mind stop.
I begged. Prayed. Read scripture. Said enough, that it was too much. The burden too great. The ash of everyday in my mouth.
Loneliness was all I received.
Loosing god was hard. But soon I learned something harder. I was always taught to look to god to know who you were. With out god I did not know where I stood. I did not recognize my face.
So I looked to others more tangible to tell me who I was, despite never being comfortable with their assessments I assumed the roles assigned to me.
Confusion and misguided love or hope, led to abuse…
Shadows so many shadows.

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