Dear God

I think when I write most of the time it’s in the hopes that you will read my words and know Im hurting; because I don’t cry in tears but always in words. I bleed in them too. My soul is so anxious. So chaotic. So unhappy. I feel it all the time how out of place I feel. How I get swept away by the tiniest of waves. I’m so weak. You love such a weak and fragile thing.

I sometimes hate writing because it just makes me hurt again and again as the words bleed out. I know this gift is to help me cope but it breaks me apart just the same. I am at my most vulnerable when I write. It’s the only time I really feel alive and honest in my skin.

I thought about my dad today. The monster that also shares this gift. Our words are different but I wonder if he wrote because he ached too. And it makes me hate him more for sharing what I hold must dear when he filled me with so much fear. I just want to have apart of myself not tied to the blood in my veins. I just want to be an individual person not bound to the tragedy and brokenness of my family.

But all the scars on my soul are markers of my DNA. I bleed the same blood my monster does. And it makes me hate myself a little more. To be like my father makes me feel sick. To share my love of words with him makes me ache. He took so much from me God, don’t let him take anything else.

Where are you God? When I was in the bathroom crying where were you? When I was lying on that cold floor where were you? When I stared at that bottle of bills where were you? When my heart broke where were you? When I sat there on the floor falling apart where were you? Were you there? Did you cry too? Did you keep me alive? Did you hold me? Did you protect me? Did your heart shatter the way mine did to see me in such disarray? I hope so. I hope that you my God cared for me when I couldn’t. When the world crushed my spirit and my will I hope you held me together then and that you will now.

I have a hard time breathing these days. There is never enough oxygen to fill my lungs. I feel like Il a second away from a panic attack. A breath away from my last. I feel like Im living my life on a sheet of glass watching the cracks spiral out, and waiting till it collapses under the weight of me. Will I fly? Will I fall? Will you catch me? Will you give me wings?

I need you God to rip apart the darkness inside of me. I need you to break my crooked soul into pieces and make me strong, make me whole. I need you to hold me all the time. To squeeze the aches out of me. To crush the demons feasting on me. I need you to destroy the hate in my heart. Destroy the pain of never feeling like I belong or am enough. I don’t want to feel dirty anymore. I don’t want to try to scrub away my past with shaking hands. I don’t want to keep fighting these same battles.

I’m tired God. I’m tired of fighting. I’m tired of bleeding. I’m tired of feeling awful inside this body. I’m tired of not liking myself on the inside or the outside. I’m tired of being strong. I’m tired of being okay. I’m tired of days as black as night. I’m tired of living like I died already. I’m just so excruciatingly exhausted of being a mess.

I know I have to do my part God but right now I am just trying to keep the stitches holding me together from loosening. I’m just trying to breathe and not drown. I need you to help me. I need you to be gentle with me. I need you to carry me through this…this agony.

Think of these words as my prayer. I need you to rescue me. I need you to be my friend. I need you to lie next to me and just be with me in this broken place. I need you to hold me cause Im so cold.

Please.