Dear You,

It's like there's an invisible tally chart - every hurtful thing you say gets notched up, and is irrefutable proof of my worthlessness, and your contempt and apathy. Not because it's you, but because it's me.

It's like trying to buy the perfect pair of shoes, but you're blindfolded and you don't know what your feet look like. I will be taking medication until I find the one that fits. Then I will continue to take it for as long as I can. Understand this!

Two numbers on a certificate does not change me, does not sort me out, does not mean I am 100%.

I try to be good. I do. All my life you've reminded me I have to be good and I try.

If I fail, you're all there to let me know. So I have to do well, and I have to make sure I've won. 

I'm more fragile than you think. 

Every good thing I do, you tear to pieces. I am my own worst critic, I don't need you to join in as well. But you miss understood, and you patronise me now. 

You watched on when others hurt me, because I'm bigger and older you say it's fair when this happens. 

You say I'm negative, that I can only think of the bad, that my vision is skewed. If yes, why don't you help me? Why doesn't it make you wonder why I can only see the bad in things?

You are not special or unique in what you think of me. You are one of many. But of all of them, it was not supposed to be you. It was not supposed to be you.

And I can tell you none of this.

Paper, Scissors, Stone.

Paper: meek and humble, less-of-me-and-more-of-Him, lying closer and closer to the ground while the steam roller train of His glory runs me over and I & my life are nothing more and He is everything.

Scissors: wrestling and fighting and tumbling and tearing and screaming until final submission. Not hearing and not being heard, just allowed to rage, then, subside and bear the scars of battle.

Stone: standing tough and firm, unmoving and unobliging. This is where you deliver on your promises. Where you show me you can be trusted.

What would you chose? I choose to be a stone: to stand here and yell till you hear, to remind you of your promises and your goodness. To show you the emptiness around and demand that you save me. Show me you can be trusted, show me your love.

Build Me a Blanket Fort

Under the table,

Between the chairs.

Away from the noise,

The laughs, the stares,

Build me a Blanket Fort:

Beyond all the strife,

The pressure, the cares.

Somewhere I can hide

Build castles and cry,

Then wake in the morning

And know I'm alright.

Those Distant Bells

I don't remember when I first met you, but I bet you do. Did.

I don't know how many times you held me, took my photo, put up with me, but you loved it.

I don't know how many times we baked together, walked to the beach, collected plants or went shopping.

You gave me books, games and sweets. You told me stories, and fell asleep half way through when I'd worn you out.

I cried and cried when you left, I didn't, and don't, understand. I thought I did, I thought it was ok. But each time you come back up, I...

Somewhere, you're ok. Somewhere you're happy, and I'm glad.

One More Day

To live, and breathe and think again.

Collecting things to make me feel better:

Emails from a stranger friend on hope,

Texts from a friend letting me know all this is Ok,

Small bits of comfort here and there, like snowflakes on a burn.

Feeling the need to write.

It's been a long time since I did any blogging. I said to a friend today that writing doesn't help me, but I'd forgotten blogging. Not just as a way of pulling thoughts from my mind and letting them sit, but as a reminder of times gone by. I was reluctant to re start this blog as it's full of teenage angst and thought provoking posts that I'm not sure where they came from, but after all that's gone through my mind today I wanted to set some of it down.

Jesus loves me.

Loves me. 

Because he just does.

And I pulled a face and said no way he does. I mean, who could love this?!

But the funny thing is, he still loves me, even as I write this.

It's made me wonder what I mean by "I'm a christian". It's made me wonder a lot of things.

I pinned a quote today:

"It's impossible" said pride. "It's risky" said experience. "It's pointless" said reason
"Give it a try," whispered the heart.

What do you think? Give it a try?

Away...

I'm off for a year and as I have another blog for that time probably won't be around here much! you can find me at http://sallyisinparis.blogspot.co.uk/ :)