A No Good Very Bad Awful Day

Dear God,

I really don’t know how to talk to you anymore, but I’ve been told that I should try.

Today I found myself with that familiar tightness in my chest (it’s no wonder they call it heart break) as I was struggling to identify to others how I’ve been feeling. We were all talking about communication--with others, with ourselves--and I realized how long it’s been since I really sat and listened to myself.

It’s because I know what I’ll hear. I’m a discordant medley of pain; grief, anger, fear and disappointment are all at war in my battered and bruised heart. Sure, I’ve been getting up every day and going to work or meetings or seeing friends. But that is all right here, right under the surface. When you scratch me, I hemorrhage agony.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d built up the walls again. Sometimes I feel like the walls are a good thing, a great thing, the only thing keeping me sane and safe. Because I never feel safe.

Ever since you took the boys from me, I’ve been holding on tight. I don’t want to lose anything more. Sometimes when I get this way I find it safer to reject new things rather than lose anything again. Last night someone called me, someone newly sober who wants my help, my friendship, and I could barely speak to her because I’m on emotional lockdown.

And food, the goddamn issues with food. Why couldn’t you have made me anorexic? Maybe not all the time, but at least when I’m sad and angry. Why couldn’t I be someone that finds myself without an appetite instead of being fucking ravenous all the time? While brownies or popcorn may seem to help, they are actually poison for me. Poison.

Part of me feels just too drained, too empty to be able to offer anything to anyone else. I’ve been told by those wiser than me that when I feel that way it’s because I’ve not been taking care of myself. Not making sure my own needs are met.

A friend told me today to go home and be good to myself. I am so disconnected from everything that I told her I didn’t know how to do that. She told me to do my nails, go for a walk in the beautiful snow. And to pray. She said that’s how you do it.

I’m so scared to crack the cement around my heart and trust you again.

That same friend said I should sit still. Let you come to me. How do I do that? Why would I let you back into my heart when you treated me so badly? How could you abandon me that way?

I’m angry to find myself here. I know it’s only been two and a half months--only a little less than half the time I was pregnant. I thought I was feeling so much better. I was wrong.

This letter to you is only an exercise, an attempt to make contact. But be careful if you show up. I can scream, and scream loud, and I have some things to say to you. If you were standing before me, I’d hit you. I want to tell you to go away, to leave me alone. When I listen to myself, all I hear is screaming.

In truth, I want to beg you to stay. Because even with my beloved standing here with me, my amazing friends, my internet support team--I have never felt so fucking alone.

So stay here, you bastard. Stay here and make this better. Because it hurts so goddamned much.

Comments

[DMouse]

Cecily, you are in my thoughts.

I hope find you find peace in reconnecting with God.

[Journeywoman]

Sometimes I take comfort in Dar Willams' view of God.

"God looks like a guidance counselor, God's got that smile.
God says, "How could this be? That's really odd.
You know I'll have to check my records. Silly me, you know I'm only God"

Sometimes I don't take comfort in anything.

Just wanted you to know that I'm with you in spirt, and cheering you on. No matter what.

[lorrie]

I don't know what is worse.

To not believe in God, and have no hope, knowing that cruel and random things will happen to us any time, any day.

Or to believe in God and wonder why Someone could sit back smoking a cigarette and LET things happen to us. If you love us so much, God, then WHY?

Would YOU let your worst enemy suffer the way God has let you? Of course not. And yet we are the horrible sinners, and God is perfect.

Let me know when you get some answers, I'm still looking.

[Sarah]

Dear Cecily,

I love you more than words could ever fully express. I hate that you are in pain and that I cannot do anything to make it better.

Just know I am here for you, always.

Love,
Sarah

[Sherry]

I'm so, so sorry you're feeling this way, Cecily. I can't even imagine where you are right now, but I know it sucks more than anyone will ever know.

I've been following your story in the shadows over the last few months, and there's one thing I've noticed and want you to know...You're as strong as they get, my friend. I know you'll make it.

[Debe]

I'm sorry for all the pain and hurt you've had to go through. I have no answers only love for you (yep, I've come to love you)

[Cat]

I'm so so sorry for the no good very bad awful day. I also want to say that I think the ups and downs are normal. To feel okay one day, then crash the next. It's part of the process. I think the goal is for the good days to slowly increase until they outnumber the bad ones. If I believed in god I would pray for you, but since I don't I am just sending good karma your way and thinking of you and hoping that tomorrow is a better day.

[karla]

I am so sorry you are having a rotten day. If I could I would come all the way from Georgia and give you the biggest hug. You are in my thoughts.

[The Good Rachel]

Cecily,

Your post makes my eyes well with tears and my heart hurt for you. I am so very very sorry for your terrible losses and your grief. I have nothing to offer that will make you feel better. Please just know that your heart is not crying alone tonight, and there are a great number of people out here with you in their thoughts.

[Ellen]

Oh, hon. I wish I had something wise and helpful to say. I'm so sorry you're having one of those days when it - when the distance we've put between ourselves and pain - all crashes down. I agree that it can help greatly to be still in yourself - to walk outside and look at the stars, just to listen to yourself and God (where you really might hear something you don't expect - I find that the assumption that the pain will come is often lots worse than what I do find).
I don't think you should worry about your desire to smack God around, btw. Do you read the psalms? Most of the ones that aren't singing praises are calling Him an dirty rotten SOB. You're in pretty impressive theological company, if that matters in the slightest. ;)

[wavery]

Oh hon,
It's such hard work. But scream away. You've got to process all of it, each piece. I've got room on my couch anytime.

[penelope]

Don't forget to breathe - unclench your jaw and inhale deeply - through your nose. It might make you feel like crying -- but your post made me worry that you're hardly daring to breathe at this point. I'm so sorry. Some days taking a few good breaths is the only way we can be good to ourselves.

[Danae]

Being agnostic, I can't help much with the God thing (Why must there be so much suffering? Is there a point to any of this? Your guess is as good as mine.) but I really do hope you're able to find peace in your heart again. And soon. Thinking of you.

[Suz]

I'm so sorry, Cecily. I hear your anger and pain and I'm so sorry.

[Lauren]

It blows my mind that you can even get out of bed and write.
The strength you show us is incredible.
I wish there was a way that a girl can help another girl in a situation like this. Coming to your blog will have to be that way.
I'll be here tomorrow and the day after that.

[Joanne]

I'm so very sorry.

[Bugsy]

Aha - (Bugsy nodds head). I so understand. When I lost my parents, one after the other to cancer, I hated God. I hated him so much that if he had materialised he would have copped it from me big time. Over the years I have wavered back and forth between trying to let him in, and pushing him far away. It sucks.

Although we are all here with you, only you can go through all this and that really sucks big time. We so wish we could take some of that pain off of you.

I guess there really is nothing I can say to help. Just that I understand a bit, and am thinking of you.

Take care hun.

[Kinneret]

I know we've never met but I'm here if you need a virtual shoulder to lean on.

I hope your pain lessens with time and you find peace, Cecily. You're in my heart.

[Sandy]

This is an awesome letter Cecily. Having the walls up has been a way of life for me, and I know how much it hurts to have them up. I'm so proud of you for having written this letter. I pray that your walls have a little crack in them after having written it.

[Dana]

oh honey....I love you. what an amazing letter.

thinking of you.

[Moxie]

I'm so sorry, Cec.

Rage away. God can take it.

[jaine]

anorexia is just as painful a battle with it's very own horribly quasi-unique demons. you don't want to be suffering from any ED (none are better or easier) -- they're like controlling inncubi and you're really in stereotypical hell.

i am so sorry that you're in all this internal, emotional turmoil. i can't help but steal/vote with moxie since i can read her comment directly above mine...rage away...get it out...if there is a god, (who i question all the time despite being spiritual) i believe she can alleviate...not fix everything...but help alleviate.

i hope hammer bathes your face with sloppy kisses...the dogs always help me...

much love, dear cecily.

[Menita]

Oh Cecily. I am so sorry.
I'm thinking of you - not knowing what to do, but thinking of you.
With Moxie: rage away.
I wish time could go faster so you could heal just a little. I am so sorry.

[Emily]

I'm so sorry Cecily. I'm thinking of you...and listening.

[evieballerina]

I think you should scream at Him. Give Him all you've got. Scream long and loud. Use variations of "fuck" liberally. He'll take it. He won't leave.