It's been a busy time since my last entry. Starting seminary. Getting engaged to and moving in with F. Dealing with some family issues. Seasons changing. Demons resurfacing, most of which I have difficulty naming. There are days when my energy levels are so low that leaving the bed is a monstrosity of a task. Last winter, I noticed, my depression was fairly in check. I attribute that mostly to my being in the honeymoon phase with F. Don't read too much into this - my life, my partnership, is something I am thankful for everyday. But now that the novelty has worn off and we've gotten into reality, the hardships I faced for so long that had gone underground are seemingly returning. B. and I talk about it some, but school seems to dominate my conversations with him. That may be changing soon. I started smoking again, slowly at first, then full-force after my mother's reaction to the news of my engagement. To not be accepted by one's own flesh and blood is nearly excrutiating. I'm not talking about having one's parents disagree with a choice or decision. I'm speaking of the agony of knowing that the person you are is nothing shy of a monstrosity to them. To know how much effort it takes them to be in my presence without gagging or wretching kills me. Yet I know that who I am is unchangeable, irreversible. And at this stage of my life, I know that if a pill could change me, reverse this state of being, I would not take it. I can only hope and pray that doesn't condemn me. I believe it will not, but the old ways of thinking still have their nooks and crannies in my life, in my psyche.
Seminary has been good, challenging, and overwhelming all at once. I'm reminded often, even if inadvertently, of my faults, my shortcomings, my weaknesses. My selfishness rears its ugly head. My brokenness is exposed, bleeding, if only symbolically. I don't often share the thoughts that seep into my head. The effort I have to make while on the train platform to stay near the center. The attacks placed on me by the Enemy. I think of the times over the years when friends, but mostly total strangers, have prophecied over me, informing me of the grand role Elyon seems to have in store for me, the role I am to play in His/Her will. Apparently the side of Light is not the only one aware of this destiny.
It's always said that in order for one to be able to love others, they have to learn how to love themselves. Sometimes it feels like God has made me an exception to this rule, for so often, I find myself fully capable of loving the other and struggling endlessly to love the self. When I asked a friend where she thought my calling was, she said she saw me in the local church, because I know how to "love people where they are rather than where they can be." Riddle me this then - why can I not offer this same service, this same grace to myself? Why must I wrestle with the demons, the darkness so often, so frequently? Why do ghastly images of either my own demise or that of the people most dear to me push me into a crippling frenzy of anxiety and sorrow?
By next fall, I will be in my second year of seminary, about to change my life (and my name) forever. I have found the gift so many speak of - a person who does truly love and accept me where I'm at. A person who has more faith in me than I thought humanly possible. And I see in him the Creator, the God-mark. A sense of agape that just barely falls shy of that of the Redeemer. Yet I do not... I cannot... see myself as he does. I wish I could, but it seems to be the thorn in my side that I am shielded from my own self-worth and intrinsic value. In the meantime, the love I am given for him only seems to grow stronger and stronger, almost impossible to contain.
This is not a cry for help or assistance. This is merely a purging of some of what has built up inside of me. An honoring of the pain that has accumulated over recent months. This is a note of thanks to He who made me for giving me the blessings of F., of my friends and family at G-ETS, of my church family who has encouraged, affirmed, and embraced me fully, and of my own strength that has gotten me this far - a strength that is not truly of myself, but of Him and the person He made me to be. And one last note, to the darkness, to the opposition - hell or high water, you will not defeat me, break me, or tear me down. My life has one purpose - to see to it that the love of the Creator is made visible and made known to all within earshot, and that purpose, that goal, is far too great for you to overcome. Whatever you've got, bring it. For I will not be silent; I will not be quiet anymore...