Loss

I am at a loss. This is the first time I have been able to write a new entry. Several reasons.  My laptop was infected by a virus, and had to be wiped clean- again.  I lost all my music, 1,000's of photos, paid for and created videos, and all of my written documents. Everything. It feels a bit like a fire or flood must feel.  True, I still have me. And my computer.  A fresh slate should cheer me.  Instead, I am being real here where I can, I just feel loss.

Recently, friends and family have had loved ones taken in death or threatened by injury or serious illness.  I am at a loss for words.  Comfort is so rote and common.  I do not understand God or his ways and seem to be swimming in confusion.  If the posting after a silence was supposed to be joy and happy fluff, then this is the wrong blog.

Right now, I am typing in a new format and homescreen.  WTH even my blog did away with my familiar controls and buttons. Nothing is familiar. Just the sense of having been here before. Isolated and drifting. Yes. I know this Lost place. It is painful, but here I am again.

In many ways, my job and finances are booming.  I do not have self-discipline, or a hard heart though.  My money goes out as fast as it comes in. From loans to friends to go unnoticed, to helping hands to family, to spontaneous gifts of "blessings" to others,,, I give and give and give.  Funny, for some reason in my pain, I am wondering why people are so willing to "take"?  Then I am angered at myself to realise that I alone have created this monster.  I enabled those I care about and gave freely. Until they just move on. Leaving me feeling used like a sour dishrag. Meanwhile, they do not know how to fish and sustain themselves.

It's awkward to admit.  The one place I learned to feel safety and shelter... is the one place I let them see "me". I let down my guard of being tough and happy go lucky, and like I had things figured out.  In a roar, my pain and built up REAL came through, and I am so ashamed.  It took being numbed by alcohol to let my hurt have a voice, and that was risky and hurts me deeply itself.  I was then ,,,,, well, I fear in my impaired state I was disrepectful or harmful? To the people I care about the most?  I am hurting to see the damage and it is seeming easier to just leave. Again.

I used to say - proudly- that I am tenacious and steadfast.  Yet, whether I am the one that physically packs my stuff and slips away into the night, or whether I wage a Custer's Last Stand and die being stubborn?  The result is the same. I left my right mind and I got left behind.  I feel the pain of this loss and self-realization. 

I am worth respect.  I was enough to begin with, or no one would give me a second moment.  When did "enough" turn into too little?

So, I work. The one thing I excel at is my job and being gritty, determined.  I do not have energy to eat. I sleep as though a dead person, but dream in vivid colors and sound. I still have just enough of God in me to keep me miserable and enough holy vision as to know my own end.  I feel helpless to snap out of it and choose one road or another. Instead, I turn, side to side, and feel loss of direction and peace.  I am at war with myself and just want to be free of the hell in my mind and heart.

Music and the written word either bounce off my numb exterior, or sear my tender, wounded soul. I can't even find refuge in the places I always trusted.


All of the above said, and not a thing revealed, solved, or assauged.  Hah, bitter chuckle, that sounds alot like prayer.  Endless futility and painful loss.

I hope to shake the UGH soon and at least return to a normal happy-go-lucky outward bounce.  Since this is the first time admitting some of my churning thoughts in awhile, then maybe I can ferret out some sense, law, and order to my chaos.

Until then, there is still an anvil on my chest, a rock in my gut, and heavy darkness in my spirit. I am lost.

The Other Side of the sunny girl everyone sees,

Jan M. Olsen
~J~