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

the reflection in the mirror

I need to see myself through His eyes. Through the eyes of the Savior who died for me. . . who sees me & loves me, even when I fall. Even when I curse my existence. When I fall down broken on my knees.  . .He sees me. He sees me when I scream to the sky, when I hide the tears, when I shatter to a million pieces. He holds me. He loves me. He thinks I'm beautiful. . .
I need to realize I am more than just flesh  blood.  .my worth is not based on my weight or my skin or my hair or. ..anything physical. I am worth more than that. . .I am not just a body. . .I am a soul. I am Gods creation. & I am. . .loved by Him beyond compare. I need to break free of this prison I've built with icy hands. . .I've let it weigh me down too long. I let my husbands betrayal define me for too long. . .I can be free. I can be happy. I can heal. I can find worth. . .I can learn to love myself. . .I have to.  I have to be stronger. I have to find myself.

You feel stuck on the outside looking inside
Wishing this life wasn't your life
And you think you're damaged way beyond repair
Well you're not so far that I can't get to where you are
You wish you were someone else
Every night you fall to pieces
Knowing you can't save yourself
I can see you, I can hear you
There's a place where the broken go
There's a room full of second chances

You're not stranded on your own
You're not invisible- Disciple

do i fail to know whats in your eyes

Lately, I struggle with this self esteem even more than normal. I want to hide from mirrors. . . they warp me. I realize I cannot blame my husband for all of this. . .this voice in my head has always been there. Beating me up, tearing me down. . .but, to be honest, his transgressions has not helped it. I realize I could be stronger. . .it's so easy for people to tell me to just get over it. . .& it seems like it should be. . .but its not. It's a hurricane of voices surrounding me & they always pull me under.
Every time he touches me & tells me I'm beautiful I want to scream at him. I want to tell him. . .no I'm not. .  I saw what you like to look at. . .that's not me. That will never be me. I still carry some of the weight I gained with my last pregnancy. . . I find it hard to even try losing it. . .once upon a time I had more. . .spunk than this.
& I can't lay all the blame on my husband. I need to face up to my own faults. . .my weaknesses.
I need to fix me. I can never fix him . . .it's not my job. I need to fix me. I need that. . .to be enough. . .& pray he'll chose to fix himself. ..but if he never does. . .I need to be ok with me. I need to be able to face the mirror & be ok with me . .even if i never lose this weight.
I need to stop listening to the lies of the world. . .to the pictures that tell me what I "should" look like. I need to find my worth inside. . .the way God sees me. . .the way I was meant to be. Always growing, always learning, always. . .healing.
I need to reach beyond this worlds silly view of beauty & realize I can be beautiful in. . .all of this.
'll never be what you want, no (that's plain to see) Fabulous teeth and a smile that'll melt your heart" Eisley

living in wonderland

Today I was watching Dr Phil & it was about a woman who was with a "sex addict" (I use that term loosely because I really don't think it's as common as an addiction as they try to make it out to be). . .this guy was talking to other women, was on sex websites etc. ..& she knew this & just kept. ..dealing
& it makes me wonder. ..why? Why do we put up with it? Why do we not realize we are worth so much more? why do we let ourselves me second best. ..whenever its convenient for  him? Why do we let this world tell us its OUR FAULT . . . why?
Why do I do this? Why do I let him do this to me? Why do I compare myself to those fake women online?Why? Why do I let it bring me down?Why do i believe the lies? Why do we believe the lies????
Its such a hidden ugly matter. . . it creeps around so many bedrooms in the shadows. . .  & so many times its pushed into the closet. . .it's covered with trite sayings "all men do it. .its not real.  .at least he isn't with a real woman" etc .. etc. & if we dare believe something different we are painted in a different light. We are told we are cold, or selfish, or controlling.  I've been told it so many times
So. . .why do we do this to each other? Why do we keep wounding the already wounded? Why do we kick them black & blue while they are broken on the ground? Why do people think because its ok in their world it has to be ok in everyones world?
It's time to reach out to those who hurt. . .those who hide in the dark. . .who cry themselves to sleep. . .who to to bed alone. . .with their mind racing . . .heart breaking. . .
it's time
it might get colder, but wait til it's over, darling you'll find your way, & she said I will not look away this time, take all these cuts & make them shine. . .don't want to be perfect, just alright!" TFK

the love we used to know

Some days I wonder if its all worth it. . . I spend so much time alone. . .even when we are in the same room the grand canyon sits between us. I use the same words over & they fall flat on the ground leaving me empty. I hate this feeling, like I don't measure up. . .the days when I want to shatter the mirror from everything that pulls me down. The moments when all I want to do is scream to the sky as it crumbles down around me. So why do I stay? I've been called a fool , a doormat for staying. . .& sometimes I wonder if the din is right. It would be easier, some days, to just throw up my hands & walk away when everything is burning down.  Rome is in ruins & I feel helpless running around picking up all the pieces with bloody fingers & broken palms. Sometimes I don't want to move. . I just want to stay still & let the wind tear us to pieces. It all falls down & leaves me wounded in the blazing sun & its all I can do to breathe. . .& I need to believe every day is a new day , a new chance. I can can get down on my knees & scream to the sky & be heard by the Maker of the stars. Dear Jesus.
There i sat alone in the car the weight of what you'd done around me oh all around me and with the water rushing down my eyes it was all that i could do, not to scream" Eisley

the lines of my earth

There are days when I wonder if I will always live like this. . .with my trust shattered & my heart bleeding. Some days I feel hope glimmer on the surface of the world around me. . .& other days all I see is the clouds raining down upon my broken earth.  I realize some probably think I am insane for even fighting. . .maybe I really am doomed from the start. . .maybe all these battles are like Manassas. ..they seem important at the time but in the end. . .the win really means nothing. Just more carnage & loss. . .
Every day I wake up. ..& I realize it's my choice. I can either hold tight to the past with broken fists or I can open wide my hands & start anew. I can chose to continue to breathe in the stagnant stale air of crippled promises or I can open up my lungs to something new. To hope.
I've lived with the aftermath for so long sometimes it's hard to believe in something new. . .to believe maybe this emptiness is just a season & one day the dawn will crack the sky with fragile fingers & hope will rise. I got to believe we can be more than this rubble. . .we can be more than a painting in shades of gray. . .we can be light & beauty & grace.
Grace. Such a beautiful word. I long for shades of grace to set me. . .us. . .free. To break the chains of what we know now to be . .so much more.
the line of my earth so brittle, unfertile & ready to dry. I need a drink but the well has gone dry & we are in the habit of saying the same things all over again. . .i just don't feel it anymore" Sixpence None the Richer

the ones that run me through

I know. It's been a long time since I've written. Life has gotten crazy with a newborn.
Lately the distance between us is like the universe. It stretches out , an abyss of dark, that frightens me. I hold my breath hoping things will get better, but wondering if it will always be the same. I don't know if he is still looking at the crap. . . but deep down I feel he is. He erased all the history on his computer. Again. Yeah. I'm not stupid. It's just another. . .thing coming between us. Everything, I realize, is more important than me. Than the kids.  I go to bed, so many nights, alone while he is so busy doing. . .junk. Plain. Junk.
I'm tired of this
I dream. . .all the time..  of leaving. Of walking away. Packing up the kids & going home.
Why the hell do I keep trying , fighthing, when he doesn't give a . .bloody. . .dang.  ALl he cares about is himself. Maybe thats all he'll ever care about
I'm knocked out of this fight. I'm done.
I'm so. done
& I fall in love with the ones that run me through, when all along all I need is You" Switchfoot