I struggle. It’s not just in the things that one might think it’s normal to struggle in, but also the things that are mundane. Every day. Simple.
I’m distracted when I should be focused. I’m lazy when I should be working hard. I can’t settle my brain. The slowness has me numbed and sedentary when I want to be productive. I want to be ready for work each day and not sluggish. I want to accomplish school in a timely manner that’s productive and well thought out. I want to be focused and I want to be whole.
I don’t know how to be whole.
Am I whole?
I want to be whole.
Something has struck me in my never ending search for fullness. I cannot provide it for myself. I cannot be the ending I want for my life, because I fall short of the goal. I don’t need more self-help. I’m tired of helping myself. I WANT THE HELP FROM SOMEONE ELSE. I need it. I crave the help. My heart is weak and broken and in pieces that only one person can pick up.
I think he’s been calling me. I am always so unsure, but I think he has. I think he has been with me even in my numbness, and followed me through to this valley of shadow. I think he has heard my prayers. My unspoken ones, the cries of my heart when self-medication did nothing. When I was less fulfilled by what they said would be fulfilling than I was when I did none of the things they said would work. I think he heard me.
I think he’s calling.
Are you calling?
Will I answer?