I feel compelled to start this off with some honesty. I've been absent these past 3 weeks partially due to my scatter-brained schedule, partially due to with my inherent laziness, partially due to my obsession with Lost, but the award for the major cause of my lack of content goes to an awful and suffocating malaise that has settled onto my spirit.

I have to admit I feel a tad bit more than a little terrified to even admit that. I have always tried to convince people that I'm in control, am decisive, am super happy, well-adjusted, and have clear-minded vision. Top that with a cherry of hyper-active, rubber-limbed fury and that pretty much sums up what's outwardly happening over here. Confessing weakness is not my strong suit.

Admittedly most of my life I couldn't feel less like that inside, yet always I would keep up that face: the "I got it" face. The only thing different (the only thing new) its now more apparent than ever that I don't need that face. But in the most sneaky and undermining ways this sad defense is fighting fighting fighting to prove it's worth. None of this is happening out of no where; it certainly is not. My therapist and I have been essentially chipping away at every defense mechanism I have to get to this point. In my head I'm picturing the wizard duel between Saroman and Gandalf in LOTR. If that doesn't work for you...you're missing out on a vital piece of the puzzle.

We've now come to the point where we're quite literally ripping skeletons out of my memories; painful, harrowing, blurry-eyed, waterlogged skeletons whose resurfacing have been giving me nightmares for months now.

As hard as it is to exhume these things, it at least is a healthy way to confront my obsession with the "i got it" face. Not everything was always ok always and maybe (just maybe) I can start to see that those things are maybe (just maybe) ready to be dug up and laid to rest properly.

But there's this obnoxious, slob of a case that this defense is making for itself. For our purposes here let's call it Look Over There.

Some of Look Over There's favorite pass times include not showering for a couple days, leaving a sink full of dirty dishes, eating more than two fifteen year old boys, neglecting to water my plants until their near death, not reading anything over an article's length long for months at time, leaving my dog at home for unacceptable stretches, not doing taxes, NEVER WRITING A BLOG, and basically creating unnecessary messes that keep me from rising above.

Distracting. I can only guess (or hope) that there is a real threat of happiness or at the very least peace that will come on the other side of this painful process if it's causing me to act so so differently than any person I've ever known myself to be. Because when it comes down to it for me happiness and peace are so foreign and therefore unwelcome. I've spent years with this face. Who am I if I don't have to pretend everything is ok? Who am I if I'm not silently railing inside, agonizing over the injustice of my life? Who am without that theater?

For whatever reason this is all going on, it's completely unsettling. Every one of those activities (or inactivities) are so unlike me it truly is terrifying. I've never felt more aware of and hurt by my own actions to distract myself from the real issues.

I feel as if I am in the midst of a very real, very definitive fight for my life. It could quite clearly go one way or the other. So in an effort to seize the path I am deeply hoping for here I am. I know. Small steps. Who cares, right?

Well. I do. Maybe I alone know how scary it is for me to write this blog post. There's nothing that has been as important to me as keeping up that brave front and to take that crutch away...it really feels like one of the most courageous acts of my life and gives me a braver feeling than I've ever felt in all the time of faking it.

So, I guess I'm saying things are not ok. Ok.

Now give a girl some applause.