I need Your air in my lungs tonight

It's been a while since I've updated.
I've been here a few times & just stared at the whiteness, not sure what to write anymore. It all sounds the same. The same words, letters, & emotions pouring out of my veins , my fingers, my soul.  It's the same song played over & over until one has gone numb & it  no longer has any meaning.
Nothing has changed. Everything has changed.
It's funny, how you can assume you know the worst about something, someone & find out latter how wrong you were. When words can cut like a knife & lies can drown you.  Things can only stay hidden for so long before they find the light of day & I don't know what is worse, not knowing or knowing. It's a double edge sword either way, I suppose.
I fight all the time with the thoughts inside my head. Telling me it's my fault. It's because I am not enough, I never will be. I just don't understand. I can't grasp, how I can be enough, if it always happens. the same bullcrap always happens.  How can he tell me I am enough & be lying to me. Be talking to someone else. Be looking at someone else. How can I believe a word that falls from his tongue when I know it's all a bunch of lies
& of course, in reality, I'm at the point, that in some ways, it is my fault, because I stay. I endure. I put up with it.  I just don't feel strong enough to leave yet I am not strong enough to stay.
So where does one go, when there is nowhere to go?
my world is a lie that's come true, & I fall in love with the ones that run me through. . .sing it out, take what's left of me & make it a melody, i can't find the words to sing" Switchfoot

I run like the Ocean

I often wonder, am I weak or is this strength? When does fighting become weakness?How many tears must pour out of my eyes before I walk away?
I've been down this path a million times & I wonder. .. why?
As I fight alone, as I bleed below the fading stars, as I fall apart, as the blazing sun scars my eye, I wonder. Am I being the fool? Isn't it time I just. . ..quit? The truth is, I'm tired. I'm weary of looking over my shoulder. I am tired of sleepless nights wondering over words spilling from lying lips. I'm tired of looking in the mirror & realizing there comes a point in ones life when it's their fault. Their fault for staying. For running into the same walls time & time again.
Maybe I really do need admit defeat. To walk away while there is still breath in my lungs & blood in my veins.
I'm stuck in this hurricane & I feel helpless to ever leave it's winds. I am tired of being battered. I'm tired. So tired
I run like the Ocean to find Your shore. . .I'm looking for You" Switchfoot

I am the broken breaking seas

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. . .sometimes , though, they just break your heart into a thousand. I am walking around hollow. The deep knowledge that there is something going on, so cutting I am left breathless. I feel like a ghost, walking up & down these halls, my feet skimming the surface & my thoughts cluttered as a junk yard. This is not my life
This is a nightmare. I will wake up, blink at the light, draw in a deep breath & realize it's all ok. I'll laugh . . .until I fall to pieces. This can't be my life. I can't be this. . .thing made of ice & collapsing dreams. This is not me. THis can't be my nightmare? Right? RIGHT?!
But deep down. I know. This is my. . .breakdown. This is the final straw. This is my breath billowing out like a hurricane. I can't do this dance anymore
The music fades
I fall.
I break.
I scream alone. Falling. Fading.  Embers dying
I am. Over. Done. Finished. Empty.
There is nothing left to fight for. I am the Confederacy at Appomattox. Tears pouring down my cheeks, I realize my fate. This is the end. The end of all i fought for. All i put so many tears & so much blood into.
Its over.
"I've lost the song of my soul tonight" switchfoot

every night you fall to pieces

It's been a while. I've been busy with both kids. My daughter is now one.
Things haven't really changed much. I haven't even brought anything up anymore. Talking to him is next to impossible, no matter what it's about. He'd rather talk to his friend. He'd rather play his games. He'd rather look a fake naked chicks. I know this.
So when does one say enough is enough? I'm sure a lot would of packed up & left now. .. & it makes me wonder if I'm just weak. .. or is this strength? I believe marriage is worth fighting for, but. ..shouldn't both be fighting for it? it's hard to fight when ya always stand alone.
Sometimes I wonder if he even cares anymore. I know I am not perfect. . .never claimed to be. Maybe i expect too much? Maybe I don't do enough? I've seen wives of men with porn problems blamed. They dont do enough. Aren't kinky enough etc etc. What if there is some truth to that? What if in the end, it really is ALL me to blame?
*sigh*

hello hurricane

So he admitted he's been looking again & then blamed me. It's a vicious cycle & I wonder why I stay on. I wonder why I fight when he doesn't even give a flying dang. He just does what he wants, says his sorry when he's caught & then goes right back his crap. His stupid selfish crap. I'm tired of feeling like I'm not enough. I'm tired of him blaming me. I'm tired of it all.
I just want to walk away. I want to count my losses & run like bandit. I'm so tired. So tired.
All I do is fail.
All I am is not enough.
I will never be enough
he can call me beautiful
but it's a lie.
he wants fake.He wants plastic.
he wants. . .everything but me
where is the sun, feels like a ghost this time. . . .my world is a lie that's come true" Switchfoot

Mess of Me

I've lived most my life damaged. From early on I was told I wasn't good enough by others at school & for some reason, I allowed myself to believe them. I was bullied, & insulted. I was the class target to push over, take my stuff, laugh at, insult & those scars are buried so deep inside that they are ingrained with every breath I seem to take. I see them when I look in the mirror. I feel them when the hot water from my shower cascades over my flawed body.
I don't know why I believe the words.. .maybe because I've been told it so many times, by so many different people. Even now as an adult, I find out some immature "women" (girls) talk about me behind my back & all the ghosts of yesterday come back full force & drag me under. I believe the voices when I see other images of women on my husbands computer. When I step on the scale & see I haven't lost any weight. When other people think it's ok to talk about me behind my back.
I can be so stinking weak. I tear myself apart daily & then wonder why I feel so dang empty. I let the lies define me. I let my past hold me down.
I need to do this. I need to break free from the ghosts. I need to shatter the whispers inside my head telling me I'll never be good enough. That  I'm ugly & stupid & fat.  I don't always know how to get the images out of my head. .. they seemed burn within me, but deep down , I know with God i can do this. If I let Him heal me.
Thats what I need to do. I need His healing. ..
there's a face behind every scar- Plumb

And she said I will not look away this time, take all these cuts and make them shine.
And all this pain I feel inside, so I can find my way home again.
I will not look away this time, take all these cuts and make them shine,
don't want to be perfect just alright
-Thousand Foot Krutch

all the world could fade away

I don't believe the words anymore. They fall around me like missiles & I am left wondering what to believe. How can I believe the words when actions break them to pieces?  Every time he calls me beautiful. . . i freeze. It feels like a lie after what I've seen. . .if what I am is beauty. ..then why isn't it that he looks at?  If I am what he calls beautiful, then why does he look at everything I'm not?
This is the war in my head . . .at night the words chase around my head & leaves me breathless. I don't know which voice to believe. . .it's hard to know. . .what is real.
Why is it I can feel. . .ok sometimes & then crash so hard just a few moments later? What is this weakness that makes me stumble? & I can't lay all the blame on him. . .I am the weakness. I am. ..the fallen.
I tear myself apart and then wonder why I feel so empty. . .I believed the lies for way too long. I could rip it all apart but until I fix what is broken in me. . .I will always shatter. I will believe the voices that tell me I am not good enough. I need . . .to heal. To fix this. To fight down the fears & conquer the lies. I need to slay the beast that wants me to lay down defeated.
I can only fix me.
Everyone just stares right through you like you're not even there at all
Those times you look inside to see if something's beating so you could feel alive-Runaway City