Suicide.

So let’s talk about Suicide. It’s one of those subjects where people often fall in one of three camps: those who have experienced it, those who kinda understand it, and those who really really don’t.

But you know what? It’s okay to not understand it; to not know what it feels like to think you’d be better off dead; to think that the world would be better off without you; to be so fed up of the pain inside that you would do anything, ANYTHING, to make it stop. Or to not know what it’s like to live day after day with thoughts and urges to harm yourself that you don’t want or understand. If you don’t understand it, count yourself as blessed.But don’t be naive to think it might never happen to you.

I doubt anyone spends life thinking that their physical health will remain top notch forever. We exercise and we drink water and we eat 5-a-day in order to keep our bodies healthy. And yet, accidents can happen and illnesses can occur where we need to see a doctor unexpectedly. Well, the same is true of our mental health. One day, something might happen that knocks us for six and rather than hide it or be made to feel ashamed, we need to be honest and open and seek help from professionals.

Personally, I never expected to spend so much time in hospital this year. I never expected to need to see so many mental health professionals, or to be diagnosed with an illness that I’ve probably had and been mistreated for since I was a teenager. But it happened. And I’ve discovered new strengths and depths to myself that I was never aware of.

So on this, World Suicide Prevention Day, it’s okay to need help. It’s okay if you don’t understand suicide. It’s okay if you’ve never considered it. It’s okay if you think about it every day. But wherever you are with your mental health - be kind to yourself. Seek help when you need it. Dig deep and discover your inner warrior. Talk to friends if it helps. Sit on a hill and watch the sky change blue to pink. Feel the wind on your face. Sleep the afternoon away. Play with your kids, or your friends kids. Do whatever you need to do to get through today. Because tomorrow needs you.

This is Where I Belong

Listened to this song by Housefires on repeat as I drove home today. These are basically the entire lyrics to the song, so it kinda became a mantra I was singing to myself as I journeyed back to my flat to be alone. I wanted it to become one of the recurring thoughts that I have in my head as opposed to all the negative ones that ride the carousel of my mind. Because my head is full of negative thoughts, and sometimes they make my world dark and hopeless. They tell me that I am alone and unloveable. That I am useless and a burden to everyone around me. They tell me I am ugly and no one wants to be my friend. And I can’t stop those thoughts. They come and go frequently, they lurk in the shadows of my mind and they pop up at any time. I have no idea how to stop them, they’ve been around as long as I can remember, like wallpaper that’s faded and gloomy and you don’t even notice it. So mostly I try to ignore them but some days they are louder than others. But just maybe, one by one I can replace them with words like this. “This is where I belong. Held by the arms of love.” Thank you Jesus.

Bad Day.

It’s one of those days. One where the perks of being a borderline are felt deep and raw, heartbreaking and uncontrollable. Attachment issues. Fear of abandonment. Anxiety. Distorted self-worth and identity. These things, amongst BPD friends we laugh at them. We wind each other up about it. We might even make a few jokes that cut just a little too far beneath the surface. But when they rear their heads, in days like today, there is nothing to laugh about. There is just crawling into a ball and refusing to eat, drink or move. There is crying and more crying. Isolation and despair. There is fear and there is deep pain.

In the last 48 hours, I have lost two of my professional support team. Both my support worker at Saltbrook and now my CCO have gone. New jobs, new lives and opportunities: for them. And for me, a hurt I can’t express. A wound that will take me many many years and counselling sessions to unpack. I don’t do goodbyes. I can’t deal with people walking out of my life.

Ironically, as an INFJ, if you let me down consistently I will eventually do an INFJ door slam on you. I will cut toxic people out of my life regularly. And I know that I push you away, cause it’s all part of the chronic controversy that is Borderline Personality. But if you’re a friend, a help, someone I can talk to and rely on; someone I love and care about: Please don’t leave me. Please stick around long enough to see me fight this horrible illness. I’m really trying. Today is just not a good day.

Healer.

I was listening to this song the other day as I drove home from Essex, and it suddenly struck me: I may not have an illness like cancer or diabetes or epilepsy that needs healing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need God’s healing in my life as much as the next person. Whenever I have been at any service or event in recent years where there has been prayer for healing, I know that my thoughts and my brain start to wander and I switch off, because I think that it doesn’t apply to me. I sit back and allow ‘other people’ to ask God for healing; people who ‘need it more’.

But I need healing from my selfishness, and from my greed, from bitterness and anger, from past hurts I haven’t let go of and disappointments I haven’t accepted. I need healing from grudges I haven’t relented on and promises that have been broken. I need healing from feeling unworthy, from loneliness and from self-hatred. I need healing from the mental torture I put myself through every day. From feeling not good enough and from thinking that I’m useless. From unrealistic expectations for others and for myself. I need healing from my insatiable desire to be loved, from my fear of abandonment, from my tendency to push the people I love away.

Surely if God is capable of healing leprosy and blindness and paralysis then He can also heal me of all the things that are holding me back from living a life of freedom in Him? How oblivious I’ve been! Thank you Jesus for opening my eyes and helping me to see. May you pour your blessing and grace upon my life right now. 🙏

Letter of Hope.

Dear friend,

There will come a time in your life, that no matter how much careful planning you try to do, no matter how many friends you invite out, no matter how many professionals have your name on file, you will find yourself alone. And there will be others you can call. But you won’t, for fear of worrying them. So you will keep the sadness locked up inside. And it will make you feel horribly and desperately alone. And the unanswered texts and messages will make you feel abandoned and empty. And you’ll be left wondering if everyone is really busy or if they just didn’t want to see you. So you will spend some time sobbing your heart out on a beautiful hill, wondering what happened to make life come to this.

And it is at that moment, little one, when you know that you cannot rely on anybody else in this world, that you will have to make the choice between hope and despair. Between life and death, the future, or the past. And I hope, that when that moment comes, you will find a reason to live for the tomorrows. A reason to hold onto life when all you feel is pain. A reason to keep making those tiny steps forward. Because no matter how dark the world gets when the sun retreats, there will be a tomorrow. And tomorrow needs you.

You can make it. You can hold on. Because you are not the first person to feel this sorrow. And you will not be the last. So when that time comes, when your heart is torn and the walls are crumbling, and you don’t know how you can go on: hold on. Hold on in the darkness, hold on through the pain, hold on with the knowledge that one day, you can be the one that someone else needs. The friend that didn’t give up. The one that wasn’t too busy. The light in the darkness. You can be strong dear friend, you have already survived so much.

Honesty.

Honesty. How much is too much? I’ve been thinking about this so much recently, because often when I’m in a bad place, people will ask me a question and want me to “be honest with them” about how I’m feeling, but it doesn’t always end up being the best thing for me. So I hold back the whole truth, and I give a generic overview; the tip of the iceberg, if you will. Not sure if it’s my BPD, INJF-ness or my autistic traits but I just really struggle with generic questions like, ‘how are you?’. My brain won’t compute an answer in the socially accepted time-frame within which to answer so I say, “fine” or “yeah I’m okay.” If you want to know something direct you’re much better off asking me a direct question.

It’s certainly no secret that since getting out of hospital I have been really struggling, wishing things could be different, wishing I could somehow understand the mess my head is in. I cry at the smallest things. I cry at the big things. I feel alone and yet I’m surrounded. I feel overwhelmed and empty and every day I just hope and pray that something might suddenly just click into place; that I might begin to feel a little bit more normal.

I know I need to give myself time, to rest and recover, to give therapy a chance, to hold on to hope and love and peace that might one day drop back into my life. But it’s hard. It’s so hard.

So I just wanted to say thank you. So many of you have encouraged me and been praying for me and have been ever so patient when I just haven’t been able to do the things I normally would have. Maybe you were one of those people who asked how I was and didn’t feel like you got the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I’m sorry.

And I’m so thankful for this Insta feed. Morgan Harper Nichols posts speak so loudly to me. I read them all the time to remind myself to let grace abound and to let myself breathe. To trust that the light will break through the darkness and grace pours in day after day. Because honesty, though it might not be perfect, it is a beautiful thing.

Dying

N.B. I have not mentioned certain details in this post in order to try to respect the grief and lives of those affected by that awful tragedy.

On the 29th March 2000, I learned about death in a way that has affected me for the rest of my life. Before this moment, death was something that happened to old people, or old animals, or perhaps to people in other countries who didn't have a lot to eat. For a long time after that, it was a daily phantom that followed me around.

I guess before I talk about who I became, I must introduce you to who I was. Aged 10 years, and 363 days, I was a tomboyish kind of kid. Growing up in between two brothers does that sometimes. I loved climbing trees, reading books, finding places to hide: anything that kept me out of the spotlight. I was the kind of girl who played football, dug up mud in the playground, sharpened sticks to use as 'weapons', built tree houses and for the most part, hated being treated 'like a girl'. I was average build, athletic, ambitious and tough as nails. I gave as good as I got in my regular fights with boys and many of the girls didn't really give me the time of day. I didn't really have friends in Junior school, so I spent a lot of time alone. The school toilets were my refuge at lunchtime and the small cubby hole in the cloakroom was my safety net when I felt threatened during lessons. 

I wasn't naive. I had already; by this point; spent a disproportionate amount of time in my short 10 years in hospitals for appointments, operations and treatments to get rid of my birthmark that could increase my risk of skin cancer astronomically if left to grow. (I found this out later. At the time I just thought it was because it made me different to others and being different was a bad thing.) But despite all this, I was bright, hopeful, resourceful, and despite pretty much hating school because of the bullying, got on well in class and most of the time, kept out of trouble.

Perhaps it was because I felt like an outcast, but I had an overwhelming desire to help, to impress, and to appear useful in the blind hope that my spirit would override the apparent physical flaws that attracted the attention of some people. I didn't like people looking at me, but if they were going to, I preferred it to be because I was doing something of worth. I spent my life "sucking up" to the teachers and adults, and became Library Monitor, PE Cupboard tidy-er, anything to stay off the playground really.

Then, one horrible day just before my 11th birthday, a fire in a flat overnight claimed the lives of three beautiful boys who were pupils/ex pupils of my school. Two of the siblings, although suffering varying degrees of fire-related injuries, survived, (and eventually returned to school.)

Suddenly, death was on the doorstep of our school, our community and our lives. As young children, we were forced to face a horrible and unexplainable tragedy. Nothing that we were feeling could compare to the family of these boys, and I was all too aware that there were those who had known the family far better and far longer than I had. But none of us could escape the sadness that presented itself with us every day that they no longer joined us at the school. Each of us had to enter that playground on that dreadful Monday morning, and feel the weight of the sadness and silence that had smothered the usual pre-school playground atmosphere.

I don't remember much of the assemblies. I don't remember much of what went on during classes after that. I know some were offered counselling, but I wasn't worthy to waste the time of those people when others needed it more than me. I was only at the school a short while longer before I went off to Senior school, but it was a period of time that engrained its negativity into my mind, and changed me in a way I would never be able to explain.

Not long after, just that summer, I experienced my first family death when my Granddad died. But the tears I shed then were partly for my family, and partly out of fear, once again, that death was ever present on my doorstep.

A few years later I remember suffering from terrible, terrible nightmares, some about 'Death' coming to get me, (at the time it was just 'him') and about falling, fire, burning, and other equally terrifying thoughts for a 12 year old. Nightmares and bullying became part of my life, and soon after, self-harm followed to cope with everything that was rushing around my mind and spirit as I struggled with becoming a teenager, and dealing with un-spoken emotions, some of which I would not reveal until many many years later in my life.

Looking back on that time of my life, it is still extremely hard to piece together the ways that it changed me. I know that deep inside, that fear of death has tainted a bit of my soul. I know that there is no way that I will ever be able to erase the dreaded feeling that creeps in through my toes and up to my throat until it chokes me of air, paralysing me and I can do nothing but lay, helplessly on the floor until it subsides. It is a feeling that I have experienced during the most emotional moments of my life, when I felt like my world was once again falling apart. The feeling that I sought to escape every time I reached for a razor blade. The feeling I first got when I realised that death... happens. To young people. To old people. To everyone.

Fifteen years on, from that tragic day, and that time in my life is still extremely hard to talk about. For many years I had an emotional barrier between me and others: I wore a mask and I did not share my innermost thoughts and feelings with anyone. I kept most people away from my heart and kept my "public" face on when with others. But over time, some late-night heart to hearts and hugs from carefully places 'angels' hidden amongst my friends, that has now disappeared almost entirely. Tears, nowadays, seem incredibly close to the surface.

Death, of any kind, makes me feel helpless, weak and ready to cry myself to sleep once again. Funerals of people I have never met are just as emotional as the ones of elderly relatives and friends. The broadcast funerals of TV Characters who aren't even real bring my to real and uncontrollable tears. I cannot bear to see others upset, and crying friends just make me cry. And I cannot help but think that my life, in all the ways it has been affected, has been dictated by that first, unbelievably sad and terrible accident that took three beautiful boys from the lives of those around them. I mean, how can anyone get over something so devastating?

But, time is a great healer, and there is hope for a brighter future. We move on, but we will never be the same. I know that I am not. I know that the lives of those who were left behind reflect the love that they had for those boys. I know they would have been proud of the way their family have kept them alive in their hearts and spirits.  I hope they always knew how much they were loved.  So R.I.P. boys, rest in peace.

Homeless

N.B. All of the following 17 blogs are because I am reading ‘Do Nothing, Christmas Is Coming’ by Stephen Cottrell, ‘an advent calendar with a difference.’ Today I have actually decided to just type the entire reading for today as it ties in with so much of what I said yesterday.

What is the sound of one cracker being pulled? What about all the people who will be on their own at Christmas? What about those who don’t have a home, let alone a dining room?

About half a million people spend Christmas on their own each year. Some do this out of choice, preferring the solitude of their own company to the forced merriment of others. Some do not. Many people are just isolated, alienated, forgotten or abandoned. The overcrowded noisiness of our busy, prosperous culture can be the loneliest place on earth. Some people can go through a whole day with very little human contact. Everything is automated. We interact with our computers and our phones, but not with each other. We know the names of those who live in Albert Square. We’ve barely spoken to our own next door neighbour.

There’s another vast number of people who don’t have any home at all. Nobody is sure how many, but last Christmas the charity Crisis served 35, 000 meals in it’s shelters across London. Then there are half a million or so ‘hidden homeless’: people living in squats and bedsit, families in temporary accommodation, people sleeping on a friend’s sofa.

What is the one thing everyone remembers from the Christmas story? There was no room at the inn. God entered the world through the experience of homelessness and the rejection and isolation that goes with it. How can we reach out to those whose experience is the same today?

On Tuesday, after I had walked Beth home from GB I decided not to take the shortest route home, which meant walking up a dark, quiet road. Instead I took a longer way, which included walking up a main shopping road. It was about 10pm, and all but the mini-supermarkets and fast food restaurants were closed. As I was walking, I saw a guy sitting in the doorway of a shop covered with a duvet on the opposite side of the road. It was a cold night, but he was merrily chatting away to the few passers-by. At first I hurried by, eager to get home and buy a few bits from Tesco before they shut. However, after coming out of Tesco, my conscience got the better of my and I couldn’t walk away.

Anyway, I got Bob* and his friend some milk, (he asked for it) and sat down in the doorway next to them for a chat. The first thing I could smell was beer, which I can’t stand the smell of, but I gave them the benefit of the doubt (A lot of homeless people drink just so they don’t feel the cold as much.) and we had a good ole chat. Bob started telling me about this ‘squat’ that they’d discovered, how big it was, what it looked like etc, and how it even had running water. After a good hour, he was dying to show me this house, so once I promised I’d come along and have a look. (Yes, it was crazy but he was really friendly, if a little drunk.)

After an hour of sitting with Bob and Charlie* in a smelly, damp upstairs “bedroom” of this house (which was in fact every bit as awesome as Bob said… though it was now derelict and pretty dark by that point) with only a few small candles for light and warmth, I made my exit and headed home. Once I was out in the fresh air, I stopped for a moment to gather myself. Had that really just happened? It was perhaps the most surreal experience of my life, and yet the most human. I had never imagined, at the start of the day, that I would end it sitting in a dark, smelly, squat house with a few homeless blokes, and yet I had never been so comfortable with complete strangers. I have experienced poverty, but never so close to my own home. I don’t think I had ever relied as fully on the strength of God as during that hour.

* Yes they’re fake names. I don’t want to get him into trouble.

DNCIC recommendations for today:

• Do you know anyone who might be alone this Christmas?

• What could you do to offer them company?

• Find out about what happens in your local community to support homeless people. As well as national charities like Crisis and Shelter there are often local projects and centres that need support. Offer them some help. Take them some food and warm clothing.

“The greatest suffering is being lonely, feeling unloved, having no-one. I have come more and more to realize that it is being unwanted that is the worst disease that any human being can ever experience.” Mother Teresa of Calcutta

Nudity

N.B. I'm just going to be brutally honest from now on, because I think the few people that still read this can handle it. That doesn't mean that I'm going to reveal everything I'm thinking, but it means that if I choose to talk about something, I'll talk about it.

I think I'm facing a real challenge to not fall back into the depressive state that I spent the majority of my teenage years in. I don't think there is any one reason for that, but many important factors that are adding to the weight that is getting heavier on my shoulders.

I feel like I have lost all my friends. I'm not talking about physically, because actually, they haven't gone anywhere. But since coming back from the Philippines, a series of circumstances seem to have resulted in me feeling emotionally abandoned. Maybe I am just expecting too much from them, but I there isn't a single person whom I trust enough to share my deepest struggle with. I don't know if that is a change in them, or a change in me, but I have lost the ability to share my struggles and not feel guilty about it. Everytime I prepare myself to offload, I think and worry about what the person is dealing with already, and don't want to add my troubles to the pile. So I once again put on that age-old mask, (and to be honest, it's getting pretty thin with all this use) and walk away. Maybe next time.

One of the main things I am worried about is University. When the hell did this happen? I'm a student. Everytime I look at the list of assignments we have I feel sick. I can't do work. I can't cope with this pressure. I don't even want to remember what happened the last time I was under this kind of pressure. It wasn't good. And what's with all this growing up? Could someone please tell me when it's my turn to be a kid? Did I miss it completely?

Today is the 5th year anniversary of the day my Dad left. The day that resulted in so much change, hurt and anguish that triggered some pretty crappy behaviour on the part of me and everyone else in my family. I don't know if thinking about that day will ever get easier. I guess not. But when I think of how things have moved on, on how much I've dealt with since then, on how far things have come, I can't help but smile a little. Who'd have ever thought that things would turn out like this? Could I ever have predicted what my life would be like right now? I doubt it.

To finish off the guesses about why I've been feeling so crap recently, I have to mention the Philippines. Apart from the fact that I just wish I was there and am getting overly sensitive and annoyed by everything in this country - the recent events that have shattered the place I idolise and love with all my heart is awful. My heart is torn by the devastation that is left in a place so often filled with smiles and laughter, even in the depth of poverty. It is a wonderful place. I have no doubt that the floods will leave people more determined to overcome the difficulties that are faced on a daily basis, and that the smiles and laughter that I have come to know well will not be wiped out. The Filipino's are a great nation, in many ways. And I know that no disaster will ever change that. I only wish that I could be there, helping those people whom I love so much, and not stuck here feeling pretty useless and alone.

That's it. That's me.

Drowning

So things have been pretty busy round here recently. I'm sorry for not blogging more, I guess some things have to give sometimes, and getting time to sit and reflect enough to write a thoughtful blog may not have been happening so much.

I guess checking Facebook is a far more effective way of keeping up with what I'm doing. Anyways. The last few weeks have been busy, and the next few weeks are going to be pretty eventful. I moved into my own flat last week, and take my young people away for the first time this weekend. I finish as an Optimum Volunteer in just under 2 weeks, and I fly to the Philippines in just under 3 weeks. All pretty major events that I am still trying to get my head around. Life is full of changes recently, and I've realised that on the whole, I've learnt to cope pretty well with that. Or at least I have learnt to better cope with the emotions that it brings.

I know that this summer will change me. I am looking forward to it really. Which is a big step for me. I know that there will be moments when I just don't know what to do, moments when I want to cry, moments when I'll feel like the happiest person in the world. But I guess if I have learnt anything this year, it is to ride the rollercoaster one loop at a time.

Right now, I'm finding a few things hard to cope with. Right now, I feel like I'm falling. Drowning. Being swallowed up by a big hole in my future that I just can't get out of. But things change. Circumstances change, people change, opinions change, moods change. Things are never quite what they seem. There are always depths, hidden meanings, underlying feuds, opinions and reasons why things are said and done. Sometimes it is better when these things remain hidden. I guess underneath people's problems are things that are harder to accept, harder to acknowledge and talk about. That's why people have problems. Because they hide the underlying causes. I guess it's when you try to dig too deep into those causes that you begin to get swallowed up.

"I'm all alone again

I like what she said, not what it means.

She leaves me drowning through the shallow days,

Way down below."

'Shallow Days' - Counting Crows

Waiting

N.B. It is 2am and I have found myself online, even though I intended to go to bed nearly 3 hours ago. How is this?

I like to explore myself. Discover emotions and feelings that fester under the surface of who I am, and affect me daily. Some people may not even be aware of what they truly hide down in the depths of their soul, as they have never tried to look through the darkness to see down that far. I have fallen through that darkness, and have wandered about. It was an interesting journey that I had to take to avoid total destruction from the inside out.

But I know that there are still depths that I have not uncovered yet. Things that lay hidden in dust covered chests in the corners of my inner cellar. I know that the chance to explore those places is yet to come. I am, at present, sitting in a waiting room - waiting for my appointment. So far, I don't know which Doctor I will be seeing. I don't know how I am feeling right now. Am I happy? Am I lonely? Am I waiting anxiously for a time that will be safe to "de-stress"? All these things I ask myself as I sit here.

Amongst my waiting, I ask myself, How much do I control my up's and down's? The more I look inside myself and analyse my reactions and emotions to every situation, the more I feel like I am gaining control over every aspect of my being. And yet, maybe I do not control this rollercoaster. Maybe I am just a very experienced rider - aware of the signs and feelings that precede each up and down. Maybe I know how the chemicals in my body will make me feel the morning after this feeling, or this one.

Either way, I am aware of something stirring. Something below the surface. When it will emerge, and what it will bring with it, I do not know. I just wait. And hope that sometime soon, it will all become clear, and that when it does, I can deal with that part of myself.

Hanging

N.B. I've imported the important blogs over to this one and deleted my other blog... it was getting too confusing having two at once. Please bear with me as I edit and re-tag all of my entries to fall in line with this blog style... though I doubt any of you are sad enough to actually read my old entries, or even have any interest what-so-ever in what I have to say...

... I didn't think so.

So this week I've been really ill. And screwed up emotionally. And yet, I've actually had more time this month to hang out with the people I care about, because let's face it, most of the things I class as "work" aren't actually work for me anymore. They are just things I go to - part of normal life. Things I used to attend just as much when I was in Brentwood, only now, they count as work. I'm finding the line between work and normal work ever increasing blurry and indeterminate these days. Who knows.

I've suddenly realised how quickly I lost the people I thought would stick around in my life forever. Because now, apart from the odd text or facebook wall message, they play no part in the life I've been living for the last two years. They don't even really know who I am, and the person I've become. And that makes me quite sad actually. I have so many awesome memories of the last few years, and looking back through my old blogs, I can see how much life has changed for me, and yet, the people who back then, I wanted to share my entire life with, barely even share in ten minutes of my life now. And to be honest, that sucks. And it also scares me. Are the people that mean the world to me now, only going to be in my life once every few months in a few years time? Am I going to have to start all over again in a few years time, only to lose those friends as well? Because if I am, what is the point of all this?

*sigh* I don't know. Why is it that so many things take me back to that place that I don't want to be? So many triggers, so many bad memories. All consuming, mind altering triggers that snap be back to that inner churning, stomach turning darkness. I don't really want to admit it, but I'm scared. I don't want to be trapped there.

"God, I'm in this place again,

I'm trying so hard not to fall,

But everything keeps coming down with the rain.

And I try so hard, I forget to call.

Everybodys looking around, and wants to be found.

And I'm just hanging on; I give You all that I am."

'Hanging On' - Everyday Sunday

Diagnosis

N.B. Could you walk into my head and take away all my secret thoughts? I really wish you could, then maybe I wouldn't have to think them anymore.

This last week has been weird, so say the least. I can't really describe how my mood has swung and twisted into a million different personas, but those of you who have spent time with me this week might have noticed it. It's actually really getting to me that I have these thoughts still. These worries and insecurities in my head that I thought I had banished to the nether worlds.

*sigh*. I bought this book aaages ago, because I was interested in the subject, (which I won't reveal.) I never actually ended up reading it, but whilst sorting through all my stuff to pack up this evening, I picked up this book and read the first chapter. And every sentence seems to describe how I've been feeling these last few months. Some parts describe me at aged 14, 15, 16, 17, 18. It is me, in this book. Everything it says rings true in my life. It's actually really scared me. I don't know how I would go about fixing this. But one thing I am sure of... I need help.

"Everything looked and sounded unreal. Nothing was what it is. That's what I wanted - to be alone with myself in another world where truth is untrue and life can hide from itself."

From 'A Long Day's Journey Into Night' by Eugene O'Neill

Inevitable

The sky shines blue over a clear water sea, waves lapping at the shore, boats hovering off the sand. Coral is rough beneath my feet. The sun is still young in the sky, and casts long shadows down the beach to tease the water. The world is stirring, waiters setting and clearing tables, a family plays football down on the beach, gradually the holiday hermits emerge from their rooms to eat breakfast. In the east, there dawns a new adventure, a day just learning to walk, ideas growing and churning. And yet, God knows them all, intricately and wholly, how they begin and how they will end. Just like He sees me, and every thought that passes briefly through my mind, every pain that convulses through my body, every sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. The Father feels it all.

9.02am

The world is alive! Excited shouts are heard up and down the beach. The waves continue as before, throwing starfish and jellyfish up onto the shore. Joyous chatter is exchanged across the breakfast table, some Filipino's clear out the diving boats, some splash around in the water. And me? I sit here, trying desperately to collect my thoughts; my feelings. I am dreadfully confused. Is this aching a distant heartbreak? A longing for those who are now out of reach? Or perhaps just a deepened confusion of things I'll never understand. Although there is one thing I do understand about this aching: it hurts.

I miss Dennis a lot. And not even just because I loved him like a grandfather. But because he represents my inability to hold on to my past. His death reminds me that my home is changing, and I have no control over those things. And no matter how much I try and cling onto those things, I can't. I do not know what 'home' will be like in a few months time, let alone a few years. My life is going in a direction I cannot control, a path I have no say over. And that scares me. What if I am not good enough? What if I am unable to do things properly? People want to know where my life is going, but I feel completely unprepared. I am inadequate, frightened and useless. How can I ever do what the Lord has in store for me?

Glory

N.B. "Its okay to do stuff scared." - Wrong. Its GOOD to do things scared. ;)

So yesterday I ended up doing the Children's talk in church. Well, not so much a talk as I had to read out a story and do some actions. But still. Talking? Ami? In church? NO! And I was still just as terrified as I would have been if I was doing a real talk. The fear comes not because of what I am saying. But because I am on show, the centre of attention, all eyes focussed on me, and I hate that. (I cried at my own 18th birthday party because people were singing and looking at me...)

But there is one thing that I have learnt from doing the talk yesterday, and my assembly last month as well. And that is to rely on the strength of God to carry me through. When doing things that I believe I am good at, I do not always give God the glory as I should. Because I think I have developed the talent or skill, and so I take the credit. However, when doing things like talking up the front, I know I am no good at that. And so when I do have to do it, and it goes well, I know that I cannot take the credit for that, because I CAN'T do it! And so I give it to God, because it was only through him that I were able to do it.

And I've found that the things I do through God's strength go an awful lot better than the things I try and do on my own. All I have to do now is give to God the things that I attempt to do on my own. Because they do not always go so well.

"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen."

Ephesians 3: 20-21 [NIV]

Positive

N.B. It's going to be a long one. Sorry. x

So my Lent resolution this year was to take up having a positive attitude. When I thought of it, I knew that it was going to be a challenge, as I know there is a part of me that always fears the worst. Blame it on things that have happened in the past, or whatever, but I know I don't enjoy being a pessimistic person. I actually want more than anything to enjoy the life that I have in each moment, because I know anything could happen tomorrow or the day after next that could take that all away.

So I've used every ounce of energy in my body to have a positive attitude to the way things are turning around me. At times, that's actually been really hard, and maybe it's highlighted; for me especially; the area's of my life in which I really do tend to worry and stress about things that I should give over to God's hands.

During the worship session at Training this week, Lukey D (who was running it) encouraged us all to write down the things that we were worrying or stressing about, and then at the end of the session we were going to rip up our pieces of paper, drop them into the middle of the circle, and dance around them... (ok, we were just going to pray over them) At first, (being in my positive mood) I could hardly think of any. But then, as I began to think long-term about what I wanted to get out of this week, this month and beyond, I realised that there more things I was worrying about subconsciously than I realised.

So, basically, I'm going to lay myself bare and write up here as many things as I can remember, because I think for some of them, I'm going to need as much prayer as I can get. So if you could remember a few of these in your prayers this week/month, I would really appreciate it. I'm still looking positively to the year ahead, though with slight anticipation, but I am ultimately trusting that God has it sorted.

Being Confident: for as long as I can remember, I have struggled with talking in front of audiences, or even when people are looking at me in a certain way. I have mentioned this many times before, because actually, it is something that really affects the conversations I have in my day to day life, and I am trying not to let it affect the conversations I have with my young people on a one-to-one basis. One major issue is coming up, as I have to give an assembly (albeit to 5-7 year olds) at a school on Tuesday. I am actually terrified beyond comparison.

Accepting Myself: sometimes I have a hard time accepting that people like me. Maybe its just a teenager thing. I don't know. Most of the time, I'm fine being who I am. But occassionally the self doubt kicks in and I give everyone a hard time for being nice to me.

Adjusting To Changes: I'm not scared of change anymore. But sometimes I have a hard time adjusting to it. Quite a few things have changed for me recently. Its made me evaluate and re-evaluate things. I'm still struggling to see where I fit in, where I need to change, where I need to adjust, and give way. I'm struggling to find my place in certain groups, find my role in certain situations, and find when I can just be me.

Letting Go: I'm sure there are situations in your life that you've had to cope with. And months/years down the line, you finally think that you've sorted yourself out and that you are actually ok with everything. But then something happens, and you realise that maybe you weren't as over it as you thought you were. Yeah. Thats me.

Fear: I've admitted this quite a few times this year, but I have an unexplainable paranoia that I am going to die. I think about it nearly all the time, walking down the street I think that every car is going to have a drive-by shooter in it, when in a car I worry there will be a driver not paying attention that will crash into us, going to bed I think I may not wake up, you get the picture. I constantly see things around me that could cause my demise, and it's actually beginning to freak me out. I can't remember when it started, but I know that it's serious.

Next Year: Yeah. I'm unsure of where I will be. I made my mind up, and then I changed it, and now I am just confused. Some guidance would be appreciated, preferably by God.

Good Leader: Linked in to the worrying about who I am, the thing I fret the most about in this job is whether I am being a good role model to the children and young people I work with. Sometimes I really worry that some of them idolise me too much, because I know that it's easy to do, and absolutely devastating when you finally have to realise that your idols are human, and just like everyone else, they make mistakes. I want the best for my young people, but most of the time, telling them what kind of life they should be living isn't enough; they've got to see me living it first.

Sacrifice Of This Year: Sometimes I don't feel like some of my friends appreciate the sacrifice I made for this year. I knew it was going to be hard, living away from home, not being around a vast amount of people my age, not being able to take vast amounts of time off at holidays and the such. When I signed up for this year, I did it because I wanted to give some time back to God, to give him a chance to develop me into the person that I was supposed to be. But I think for a lot of my friends back home, they don't understand that, and still expect me to be able to take time off to meet their needs. Don't get me wrong, I take every opportunity I can to catch up with friends and check they are doing ok. I send cards, texts, emails, myspace messages, facebook messages, I do everything I can to ensure my contact with them is not lost. But sometimes I really feel like it's a one way street with some of them. And I'm running out of energy to keep it up. Which brings me to my last one.

Tiredness: To be perfectly honest, I'm zonked. New circumstances mean a bit more travelling than usual, and it wears me out. The days are long, I'm dreaming a lot which means I'm not sleeping well, and I'm just running out of energy for everything. But I don't think it's a matter of getting more sleep, I need the energy that only the Lord can give.

That's me, and all the shadows that are lurking in my mind. Now I'm off to my sister's to spend some quality time with her and her fiancé. Should be good. If you managed to read (and pray) for all that then thanks.

God bless. Take care. x

Change

It may come as a surprise to some people, but I am terrified of change. It’s been one of the most important deciding factors in a lot of the way I have lived my life in the last few years. It’s the reason I stayed at County High to do A-Levels, and why I didn’t go to Uni. It’s a major reason why I took the subjects I took at A-Level – because I was familiar with the routine, with the teachers. I don’t get on too well with new teachers at first. I normally don't get on well with new anybody at first! I would say that I’m a bit of a perfectionist at heart. (I was watching a little kid colour a picture in yesterday, and it actually really got to me that they weren’t colouring within the lines...) I like things to be even, neat, simple, straight-forward. But of course, the world doesn’t work like that.

Things are constantly changing, rearranging, coming up, being cancelled, being rescheduled. Change for me means a lot of things, not many of them good. Change means new people who may reject me, people who might misunderstand me, people who might not like who I am, and people that could steal my friends away from me. Situations that I might not be able to handle, situations when I have to explain myself and situations when I have to talk about myself with people I don’t know. Questions I have to answer, questions about my family, about my background, about my lifestyle, and worst of all, about me. I’m not good at talking about me. I get embarrassed. I get nervous. I look at the floor. I look at the walls. I look for an escape, (but rarely get one.) I can listen for hours to someone talking about themselves. I can be interested in what they have to say. But I very rarely enjoy talking about me.

Giving my testimony at September training week was one of the hardest, most challenging experiences of this year so far. And yet, ever since that day, I realise now that something must have changed in me. My first week in Southend was awful. I cried myself to sleep every night, and I just wanted to go home and go back to my nice bed and familiar room just up the road from the church I had been attending since I was 4. Throughout that week, I met so many new people, all expecting something from me. And I was so completely terrified that I was going to fail them. I had no confidence in myself, no confidence in my abilities, and no confidence in God. When Training Week came, with all of its own challenges and tasks that I had to find the energy and the perseverance to endure, I was almost ready to give up. But I survived. And now I can look back at all the things I have achieved in the last three months. And yeah, most of them are really small and insignificant to the average person, but to me, there are some mammoth achievements in there.

I have made SO many new friends, had an (good?) influence on many young people’s lives. Shared parts of my life with people, some more than others, and shared in their lives too. I have risen to some challenges, and shied away from others; led bible studies, and helped others to lead; taken charge in some situations, and stepped back in others. And through all of that, I’ve learned some very important lessons. Life is full of its ups and downs. We never know what is around the corner. The world is constantly changing, constantly rearranging. But there is one thing that will never change. Something I can trust to always be there, always hold me, and always comfort me, is God’s never-ending, ever-changing, ineffable and incomparable Love.

I am still cautious about change. But now I know that change is necessary for growth. Change is needed to make people appreciate the status-quo. Change is required to make life that extra bit exciting. Change means realising what you’re missing out on, and working to make the world that tiny bit better. One word can mean the difference between happiness and total destruction. One song can change a million hearts. One life, can save the world.

Self Expression

I would say that this last week has probably been the worst since coming to Southend. But that makes it sound like it’s been a completely terrible week, and in retrospect, this week has just been another week in Youth Work. In fact, I’m not even going to go into all the little things that have made this week really hard for me. I was having a really rough time on Monday though, and during worship rehearsal my line manager pulled me outside for a chat. I wasn’t hiding my bad mood that well, to be perfectly honest. I was fed up. But she said some things to me which made me feel so appreciated and welcomed, and normally I would have thought she was just being nice, but the words came out with such a weight attached to them that I realised she really meant them. And I started crying. Although seemingly a really stupid thing, I enjoyed that moment with Rachel: blubbering on her shoulder, smearing all manner of eyeliner and mascara around my face, but sharing that kind of special moment with someone breaks down walls and barriers in the relationship that would normally take months, even years to dissolve. It’s a good way to strengthen a relationship.

That is one thing that I enjoy about working for a church. I have so much love and support from the Leaders of the church, and even just the members of the congregation – so much more so than I would if I was at University or in a secular workplace. I guess in any workplace, you will all have one common goal – whether that is to make as much money as possible, or to spread the message of the Love, Hope and Joy that comes from Jesus. I’m so lucky to have such a brilliant and supportive leadership team, (I know not all the other Optimum Volunteers have) and it is definitely weeks like this that make me aware of that. God’s put me in Avenue for something great, but he’s also put a lot of other wonderful people here too – everything brilliant that happens here this year or in the years to come, is down to years of hard work, commitment, and a lot of sowing seeds by the members of this congregation. And now I am a part of that. I am starting some things which totally wouldn’t be possible without such a great leadership team backing me up. The leaders of the church, the deacons, and the church members – all have such a passion for the work that we (as a church) have been doing (in the church, the local community, and abroad in Romania and the Philippines) that it makes so much more possible! And even though this week I’ve been feeling a bit out of my depths and almost like I’m not making a difference, its words from Rachel, Phil, Jo or Julie that make me feel appreciated and loved. Thanks guys.

On Thursday I went to lunch with Jo, who is also on my Pastoral Care team. (He thought he should check up with me after my mood at Worship rehearsal on Monday...) We’d been emailing the last few days and at lunch I elaborated and talked to him in depth about some of the things I was struggling with and worried about, which is something I rarely do, to be honest. I find it really hard to talk openly to someone face to face, as Steve and my counsellors have often discovered. I’m a writer, not a talker. Poems are my self-expression when I feel the lowest – the darkest and most desperate of times of my life have been recorded in a poem somewhere. I’ve shared all my poems with Jo. (The majority of them have only been seen by a handful of people and it’ll probably stay that way for some time to be honest.) But through the conversations that I’ve had with Jo, I noticed something in him which I can connect to, and I’ve realised that he’s someone I can really talk to: which is why when he asked me to meet for lunch I said ‘Yes’ straight away. Normally there would have been quite some degree of hesitation where I would have rehearsed everything that I needed to say in my head a thousand times (and yet still never managing to say it in the conversation.)

Jo is a good listener. I talked to him about those dark times in my life, and he didn’t run away or tell me I was crazy. He allowed me to vent my anxieties and attempt to explain myself, and he helped me to see things in perspective. We had a good talk and I shared with him things I very rarely tell people. But I’m glad I did. Because I know that not only will it allow Jo to understand me a bit better, but he will be a good point of contact for me when I feel like my head is going to explode. And although Jo would probably never say it himself, he is very wise.

When all this time I’ve been worrying about things and was sure that God was ignoring me, he showed me how much God has been working in me. And that was a real relief. Even though I felt like I had no control on my life, God had his hand on me, and was guiding me. Every day when I felt like it could get no worse, God lifted me from the depths and renewed me in strength. It was quite funny actually, when Jo quoted me at one point, for my email signature for some time has been a quote from when I saw Switchfoot in concert, and it kind of sums up how we should view our relationships with God.

"Every morning is a resurrection."

Jon Foreman

Children

This morning I helped out at Playgroup for the second time this week. I've really enjoyed it, even though its not technically my job, its very rewarding to work with people who love, trust and adore so freely. Even the shy ones only took half an hour before they came up chattering away to me. One little boy is new to playgroup, this is only his second week, and he spontaneously bursts into tears. I was reading with him on Tuesday when he did it, but a quick cuddle and he cheered up again. Today when I saw him, he was very tearful, so we did some puzzles, and then painting (narrowly avoiding a disaster on my jeans) and then playdough and by the end of it he was running about happy as... well I don't know the saying, something thats happy... heaven!

It made me think about something I heard once about the difference between children and adult's natural state. Children, unless something is wrong (they are in pain, hungry, tired, Mummy is angry/missing) are in a state of bliss. They play, they make new friends, they make a mess, they are generally caring and mischieveous in the cheeky little way they have, but they are content. Adults seem to be the opposite most of the time. They are constantly stressed, about money, food, housing, bills, work, children, housework, the car, friends, health. They NEED to worry about something. It's almost as if they do not know what to do if they are not stressing and worrying about something. Stop worrying and stressing, and accept God! Accept the peace and that state of bliss that comes from knowing Christ is in charge! I'd spent less than an hour with the little boy before he accepted me as a friend and came to me for a cuddle. :)

"Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to such as these."

Matthew 19:14