BEFORE:
...and after...
Still working on the video to send home to all of you. Nearly finished... xxx
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Engine room again
Had some fun scrubbing bilge tanks again...this time it was just their tops though...a much cleaner job!
Noisy mind
"Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack,
A crack in everything
That's how the light gets in."
Leonard Cohen
Mum says I don't have to be perfect.
I'm allowed to get things wrong and screw things up and make a royal mess as I do life.
It used to be my biggest revelation when I first came back to God. But now I find myself having to relearn it. I want to get it all right. I want people to not look at me and see a mess. Or a fragile Christian. I want to be ok. I want people to think I'm worth listening too. I want to be stable and sure and "together".
But I'm not really.
Maybe it's a weak phase.
My nightmares bought back a lot of thoughts which I hadn't dwelt on in a long time. I was going to die because I couldn't breathe. He just walked into me - like, melted into me - all thick black evilness, and it was stuck inside me - all through everything of me. And I couldn't get the evil out. But I knew I'd let it in. Like I was super-evil-absorbant. Like I just allowed it to seep into me - passively - cos nothing in me was thick enough or strong enough or ANYTHING enough to put up a fight. And there was so much shame I could taste it.
One night after it woke me, I tried to sing some verses I'd been given. To fight. Voices joined in. Out loud. They didn't stop when I stopped. They laughed at my fear from across the prayer room, and mocked me with this terrifying, dangerous mockery. I ran back to my room -had a shower -pulled on some clothes - and wandered the streets until 7am. Then I caught the train. The streets were terrifying. Full of moving shapes and dark things waiting ahead which seemed to move into the allys and hedges. I was so scared my brain felt like it was full of acid - burning heat. I was so full of terror of the darkness. I couldn't get off that train until it's second trip up the line.
My nightmares are fading now. They aren't so powerful. But they stirred up so many left over memories. And I'm to tired to deal with them. They wear me out. Mum says each deep thought can only be given 5 minutes each day. She's a wise woman. My mind loves to analyse and chew and dig to the roots of every thought it comes across. With so many thoughts, life gets pretty stressful. Brain overload. But thankfully, it can't get into too much of a knot with only 5 minutes.
Back to the simple things. God. Music. Ocean. People.
Yeh.
Thanks for praying. Or for caring enough to feel bad for me. Your letters made me feel pretty loved.
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack,
A crack in everything
That's how the light gets in."
Leonard Cohen
Mum says I don't have to be perfect.
I'm allowed to get things wrong and screw things up and make a royal mess as I do life.
It used to be my biggest revelation when I first came back to God. But now I find myself having to relearn it. I want to get it all right. I want people to not look at me and see a mess. Or a fragile Christian. I want to be ok. I want people to think I'm worth listening too. I want to be stable and sure and "together".
But I'm not really.
Maybe it's a weak phase.
My nightmares bought back a lot of thoughts which I hadn't dwelt on in a long time. I was going to die because I couldn't breathe. He just walked into me - like, melted into me - all thick black evilness, and it was stuck inside me - all through everything of me. And I couldn't get the evil out. But I knew I'd let it in. Like I was super-evil-absorbant. Like I just allowed it to seep into me - passively - cos nothing in me was thick enough or strong enough or ANYTHING enough to put up a fight. And there was so much shame I could taste it.
One night after it woke me, I tried to sing some verses I'd been given. To fight. Voices joined in. Out loud. They didn't stop when I stopped. They laughed at my fear from across the prayer room, and mocked me with this terrifying, dangerous mockery. I ran back to my room -had a shower -pulled on some clothes - and wandered the streets until 7am. Then I caught the train. The streets were terrifying. Full of moving shapes and dark things waiting ahead which seemed to move into the allys and hedges. I was so scared my brain felt like it was full of acid - burning heat. I was so full of terror of the darkness. I couldn't get off that train until it's second trip up the line.
My nightmares are fading now. They aren't so powerful. But they stirred up so many left over memories. And I'm to tired to deal with them. They wear me out. Mum says each deep thought can only be given 5 minutes each day. She's a wise woman. My mind loves to analyse and chew and dig to the roots of every thought it comes across. With so many thoughts, life gets pretty stressful. Brain overload. But thankfully, it can't get into too much of a knot with only 5 minutes.
Back to the simple things. God. Music. Ocean. People.
Yeh.
Thanks for praying. Or for caring enough to feel bad for me. Your letters made me feel pretty loved.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
