Her Granddaughter.

My birthday is tomorrow. 16.

This time last year. Hell. I'm doing better this year, trying to stay out of it. For some reason, though, my birthday will present a challenge. I'm trying to stay away, but I'm scared that I'll give in. It's been a couple weeks. Maybe just this one day.

I say this as I'm thinking about what my mom told me today. My grandma is going to give me her first diamond necklace for my birthday. I asked mom why me, out of the rest of her granddaughters.

Apparently my grandma really thinks something of me.

Which is great. Except I live with myself, I know who I am. I know the fucking hypocrite I've grown to be over the last year or so.

She thinks I'm this amazing young lady with an amazing heart for God and amazing passion for serving and for the church.

And I was. Sometimes I still can catch glimpses of that. But too easily is it shoved out of the way by my dependent thinking. "God, leave me alone."

She sees that I want to go into missions.

And even that, as of lately... I'm having a heck of a time trying to hold onto that desire and dream and passion. I don't know what's happened.

I feel so unbelievably false.

If I mentioned this to someone, I can guarantee I'd get a speech along the lines of "It's okay. We all go through it."

Shut the fuck up. Is that supposed to help?

Sure. All Christians struggle with inconsistency. We struggle with not feeling close to God. We struggle with wanting to go our own way.

Most, though, it might be a week off and on.

For me, I'm excited if I feel a portion of that passion for even a fleeting moment. It's the other way around.

And I know "I'm not the only one." Doesn't help matters much though. Doesn't make me feel any better. Doesn't make me suddenly want to give up everything I cling onto.

I guess for the last almost two years, I've been waiting for that one thing that would change everything. I've tried so much, with so many failed nights mixed in there. I don't know where to go anymore. I get tired of trying. Tired of trying to rekindle that relationship. I miss it. Promise you I do. But I don't know how to get back, and I don't know what's left to do. What works?

She still sees her granddaughter.

An amazing young girl.

I see me for who I am.

A fucking hypocrite.

kadi.

Show Me The Stars

I don’t want to hear anymore lectures.

No more sermons.

No more being preached at.

I don’t want to be told what I am and what I’m not. I don’t want to be told how I should be and that I’m not enough of something.

I don’t want to be told that I should talk to my parents.

Talk to my brother.

Talk to everyone and tell them what the scars are.

I don’t want to be told I should be more outgoing.

And I don’t need to be told one more time that what I’m doing is an addiction and that it will only get worse.

Or that I need to take that next step. The step after giving him my razors.

I just want to be held. I want someone to whisper into my ear,

“It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. You’re safe. You can still change. He sees you. He hasn’t forgotten you. He still loves you. I love you.”

That’s all. I don’t want anything else attached.

“I love you.”

I don’t want “I love you, but…” or “I love you, so…”

Just

“I love you.”

I want someone to hold my hands, look me straight in my eyes, and tell me I’m still alive. That I’m going to make it. That I’m going to make it. That I’m going to make it.

I want to be told that there is still breath in my lungs and blood pumping through my veins. That he hasn’t won yet. And that I’m worth something.

I want someone to show me the stars, and tell me of a wonderful creation. Not the broken and abused one that tends to be the only thing I ever see anymore.

No more lectures.

No more sermons.

No more being preached at.

Just tell me I haven’t been forgotten.

And that I’m still loved.

kadi.

Satisfied.

Sometimes it would be so much easier.

Settle for the typical American life.

Husband. 2 or 3 kids. Job that pays just enough for us to get by.

It would be easier to be satisfied with what everyone else is satisfied, rather than have these big dreams and plans. With expectations. Goals.

And half expecting to fail.

It would be easier. But, maybe I don't always want what's easiest.

I've always been the type of person that wants to know my life impacts someone, even in the smallest way. I'm not always happy with school and family and such because it doesn't seem like I can make that big impact. Skip high school. Skip college. Let me go work with kids in Uganda or Indonesia or the Phillippines and let me know that I'm that light in their lives. Let me know that I can die and my life will mean something to someone else. Let me burn out bright.

I want to change the world.

Even if it's only a few peoples' worlds.

More than anything. I want to know I've made a change in what's around me.

I want to know I'm not useless. And that my life was used by God. That something came of pain and joy and failures and victories.

kadi.

You Cannot Let Him Win.

Tomorrow I'm going to sit down and tell him I've decided. I want to go these next fourty days without SI. But I don't want it to stop there. The longest I've gone is 39 days. I know I can go farther. I want this to be it. I want this to be the time that I finally begin to change. I'm ready for change.

And I'm going to tell him I need help. I want to get rid of any triggers. So I'm going to ask him to take my razors from me and never give them back. I cut my rubber bands yesterday. And I'll be without razors by tomorrow night. God, I hope You notice. I hope You see that I want to give it up.

Last night I had two people talk to me about all of this. In one night. Maybe it's time now.

I'm hesitant to give up the razors. He's right. I hide in them. Each day after school, hurting myself provided relief that most would never understand. And it was enough. But in the end, it will all "be put to shame". I tell Cara not to give up, that she would only be giving those girls what they want. Maybe it's time to listen to my own advice. Don't give up. You're only giving Satan what he craves. You cannot let him win.

kadi.

Let the Sun Rise.

New Year's Eve. For some, of course, it's a new beginning, new start. Change. But it seems like more and more lately that people look on it as just another year to stand up and be shoved to the ground. I've felt like that. I screwed up in 2007. More than I'd like to remember. And I remember New Year's eve last year. I "rededicated" my life. Promised myself I wouldn't be depressed anymore. That lasted a week. So, I figured this year wouldn't be any different. Just another year to get my hopes up about change. Then fall a week later.

But, just maybe this new year is something more?

I could very well not be here. My God could have decided that 2007 would be my last year. But 2008 has come. He's given me another year, and for some reason, I don't think God is a god of failure.

"You screwed up in 2007. I watched you as you built up walls and depended only on yourself. I watched you as you gave up on Me and refused to trust. I watched you fall this past year, willingly go your own way. But, I want to give you 2008. I know you can rise above this, rise from the ashes. I want to give you a new day. Let the sun rise. And maybe this time, let Me walk by your side."

Maybe this time next year, I'll look back and feel the same as I do about 2007. But it doesn't have to be like that.

"It's not the way it goes, it's your book now."

kadi.

You are brighter than the fireworks that paint the sky at midnight.
Jamie Tworkowski.

Something Real.

I've really needed to write today, but nothing has been right in my face, getting my attention as something worth writing about. But, I'm still going to go for it.

I've grown up in the church. As kids, they teach us early to always be the same outside of the church as we are in. Now, we hear more about that, but branching out. Make sure you aren't wearing any masks. Don't be fake. Be something real and honest and true.

I never thought I had a mask on. I'm a pretty good Christian at church, school, and home. And I'm generally the same person everywhere I am.

But what if having a mask on meant more than just that?

Eventually, the more layered of a mask you get, the harder it is to recognize who you are, and maybe even that you are hanging on to one of those masks.

It started October '06. Walls were put up between me and God, but I began to tear them down thinking everything would be fine. And it was for awhile. But soon, I screwed up. First layer of a new mask.

It continued until New Years. I went to church and left feeling like I had really changed. And I did. For a week. Quickly I fell again, harder this time. Second layer.

Layer upon layer, I grew accustomed to my life as it was. People talked about being happy with life and enjoying it. I didn't understand that anymore. I had become so used to who and what I was, that I couldn't imagine anything else.

End of May was the first time I hurt myself. It was only a simple bruise from a rubber band, but it was a start. By this time my mask had grown hard, modeling after my heart. My eyes began to close as I wasn't aware of what was going on around me.

It continued. The bruising. Soon, this past October, I cut. And I loved it. It scared me, this wasn't right, it never did feel right, but it was all I had. By this time, I had given on a God who created everything I see. My mask had completely remodeled my life, into something no one could recognize. I didn't let anyone in, until a month before. Even then, at that time, it didn't help. I just wanted to be left alone.

But then I told my parents. And my friend learned more about what was going on. The mask is cracking down the middle. I try to stop, retreat back to what I know, but nothing works. Nothing can save this life. A little bit of light is shining through. And I'm pleading for everything to stop and pretend I'm not here.

I normally try to say I would never take anything back, it makes us who we are. And some of this, I can see know, has helped me. But the first time I ever did anything to cause harm- I would take that moment back in a heartbeat. But this is what I have in my hands now, it's what I'm left with.

It never made sense- any of it.

"It's not right when you find comfort in harming God's temple."

kadi.