Life has been hard lately. I’ve had to make some heartbreaking choices. I’ve been plagued by “what ifs?” My depression, which was already bad, has gotten worse. I try to tell myself it will get better. I try to tell myself that it will improve. I try to tell myself that it won’t always be this dark and bleak.
But it’s hard. As I take my medication cocktail of Pristiq, Buspar, and Seroquel I find myself wishing I didn’t have to do this. I find thoughts I don’t like dancing in my head. I find myself completely trapped in depression.
And I wonder if there’s an easier path. I wonder if there are choices I could make that may not be right ,but may make it easier. I wonder if there’s a way I will no longer be trapped in the vortex of depression. I find myself just wishing there was an easy way out – but I know it isn’t right. I know it isn’t what I need. But damn, it’s so hard when what’s right and what’s easy are worlds apart.
So tired that I couldn’t even sleep, so many secrets I couldn’t keep. Promise myself I wouldn’t weep, at one more promise I couldn’t keep.
It seems like I’m trapped. I have so much I should be hoping for and dreaming for and looking forward to – but none of it, right now. Right now I’m so completely trapped. And I hate every moment of it. I hate this feeling.
This may come as a HUGE shock to some of you, but I’m a huge Disney fan. I know, all of y’all are picking yourself up off the floor.
Tell everybody I’m on my way
And I’m loving every step I take
With the sun beating down yes
I’m on my way
And I can’t keep this smile off my face
I’m on my way. On my way to my new life – no longer hiding who I am. Living out as someone with an ASD, a demisexual, no longer hiding who I am. I’m loving each step (er, each roll some days?) I take because I no longer hide who I am. Living out. Showing who I am. Living as myself and not as someone else.
Yes, I know I’m just an outcast
I shouldn’t speak to You
Still I seek Your face and wonder
Weren’t you once an outcast too?
I’m struggling. I feel like an outcast – such an outcast. I don’t fit the cookie cutter mold I feel it cut out for Christians. I’m “rough around the edges”, sarcastic, and cynical. I don’t know what exactly I believe about God, and I don’t even know why I’m going into ministry. Maybe it’s because I want to right the wrongs. Maybe it’s because I want to prove to people you don’t have to be perfect to be a Christian.
But Lord, I feel like an outcast. A crippled, limping, orphaned outcast. And the thing is?
I ask for nothing, I can get by
But I know so many less lucky than I
I have no reason to whine. No reason to complain.
So many more have it worse. I just want to help people.
To make a difference.
To help people not harbor bitterness like I have, because it’s an awful way to live.