A Scribe of the King

My name is Aimee. I'm a Christian. I love to write and read. Most often I write Poetry. I'm nothing without my God who uses me to write out His words. And thus, I am a scribe of the most...

[scribeoftheking]

Today I’m having a small meltdown. We moved again yesterday, and even though I love the people who live here, I’m not sure that I’m emotionally ready for all this again. I wish that I had a life plan to tell them when they act surprised that I’m still living with my parents. I wish that I felt social. I wish that I didn’t feel like making connections with people won’t just end in hurt like it always has for me. I wish that I could walk back into their lives like I never left. 

[scribeoftheking]

My dad is out of town, and my mom and I are home alone together. She keeps telling me that I’m cranky and in a bad mood, but it’s hard to lighten up when she just keeps getting on me about everything, including school. It would be one thing if we could actually afford college for me, but because we can’t she wants me to take clep tests which I feel really unprepared and not ready for. But I don’t want to stress myself out and have a panic attack over a test that might never be applied to an actual degree anyway.

In other words, many tears have been shed this week, and no progress has been made.

[scribeoftheking]

Today I just want to curl up and cry. I don't know if I can handle this crap again.

[aheartfullofjoy]

Sometimes I think Jesus whispers to us, “You have to let yourself be loved.”

[madebyastarbreather-deactivated]

This is hard

[scribeoftheking]

I fell so alone right now, and I feel like perhaps I'll be this way forever.

[scribeoftheking]

Today was exceptionally hard. After spending time with the people I had to leave behind years ago, I was reminded of what I could have had. I had an amazing time with old (and some new) friends who genuinely cared about me. The like me because of who I am, not who I could or used to be. Now I’m home again. I forgot how lonely it is here. I forgot how little I have to keep me going here. If that wasn’t enough, we took my dog to the vet today. This vet claimed he should only be 45 pounds (he is 85). She told us this after only looking at the papers of his previous weight before she even looked at him. I know he needs to loose weight (he should be about 70-75 pounds according to our old vet and my knowledge of dogs). Weight is a touchy subject for my dog and I. The two of us have both been victim to quick judgments because of our extra weight. Now my mom can’t stop calling my dog fat. Then she brought me into it as well and insists that I need to “make healthy choices” and lose weight.

I’m okay with the idea of losing weight, I have it to lose. The problem is that I’ve been trying to lose weight for years. I’ve tried so many things, but nothing has stuck with me (other than the weight). I have started to eat more natural foods and less sugary options on a regular basis. Every time my mom has this “conversation” with me, I end up skipping meals and then bingeing on really unhealthy things when no one is home. Rather than actually making healthy changes, all I end up with is guilt, shame, and even more weight to show for it. 

[scribeoftheking]

something that's been bugging me lately...

So I have been overweight as long as I can remember. I've grown up understanding that I will never be skinny, and for a really long time I was okay with that. I was healthy despit my extra weight, and it didn't bother me at all that I was fat. Somewhere along the line, other people started to comment on my weight. I began to be less confident and comfortable in my own skin. I became the girl who didn't belong and couldn't keep up because of my weight. People would make comments about how great my friends looked and say nothing about my appearance. And then I started to hear the phrase, “"it's what's on the inside that counts” . It didn't take long at all for me to buy into that statement as truth. And every time I heard it, I heard “your beautiful, just not physically”. This didn't take long to become who I was, ugly and fat on the outside, but fine on the inside. It's taken me years to decide that this statement destroyed my ability to believe that I could be beautiful. I spent years trying to get my appearance to be pretty. I spent years trying to remove the imperfections. I spent years destroying myself so that I could try to be beautiful on the outside. I still fail to understand how we have adopted the idea that someone who is beautiful on the inside is not or can not also be beautiful on the outside. I think that it's time to change the phrase, or at least add onto it.

[scribeoftheking]

Sometimes, when you continue to bring good things to new places, and things start to fall apart around you, you feel like what you think is good is what is destructive. What if lack of openness and willingness to accept good things is what is destroying things around us? Continue to believe in the experience you bring to the table. Share those ideas in love, and be prepared to face closed hearts without letting them shut down yours.

[justcallmebishop]

Every no is confirmation that God is still preparing the perfect yes.

[scribeoftheking]

I sit here and dream, which shouldn’t be such a terrible thing. But it is when dreams shatter and crash down between. Falling through the cracks, breaking the seams It really is such a simple thing, but The complexity of it all and terror it brings, Never is there a simplistic real dream.

[scribeoftheking]

Today I got to enjoy a wonderful day with friends. I have so missed these adventures and certainly hope for many more in the future. We took a lot of pictures today, but these are two that I really love. 

[scribeoftheking]

This day went downhill fast and hard. Started out by waking up later than desired. Continued by unnecessary comments from our contractor. Spiraled with my dogs anxiety kicking so bad that he was trying to hide. Worsened on our walk where his anxiety flipped out when we passed another dog and I accidentally stepped on his toes causing him to give me a nice bruise. Shook as my mom told me that she couldn't support me going to India this summer with the team unless I could show her that I am “"willing to work for it”. Maintained as I babysat three kids and a puppy all evening. Tumbled as I tried to have a civil exchange of opposing opinions with my mother and father about construction. Oh but the cherry on top was that I finally got my email back from my school application. The good news is that we won't have to worry about how to pay for it, because I got denied. 

[scribeoftheking]

This week (today especially) has been full of emotion and tears. I'm not sure why everything is hitting me so hard. I know that things will get better, but it's hard to have any hope when so many things are painful and difficult.

[scribeoftheking]

[scribeoftheking]

So I guess that I’m just gonna spew some of what’s going on in my head tonight. If I keep it in much longer, I’m afraid that it will slowly make me implode. So where to start...  Since I was a little kid, I’ve been a pastor’s kid. Now before I start, let me just make it clear that I love my dad and wouldn’t want him to change his job. While being a pk has its upsides, it also has some downfalls. Growing up, I taught myself that being a pk means that I need to uphold a perfect, or at least close to perfect image. 

This is contradictory to the idea that everyone falls short and no one can be perfect. So maybe you can imagine the pain of upholding perfect when in all honesty, I am so far from it. My need for perfection was only fueled by other people as I grew up. You see, I can be quite the actress, for a while I think that I even had myself convinced that I could do no wrong. Even when I did something “bad” I felt like I could just balance it out with all of the “good”. 

At some point, really about halfway through high school, our family moved. My good girl image remained, but it started to get a little harder to hold together without a few key things in my life. I lost a lot when I moved, it seemed like all of my escapes were left behind. My friends, orchestra, my classes, just about everything that I held onto as something that held me together. 

When things started to fall apart around me, and things weren’t even close to the perfection I had relied on for so many years, I had no idea how to cope. The only thing that I was dead set on, was the idea that anything less than perfect was unacceptable. If I wasn’t perfect, no one else could know.  So here I was as a Sophomore in high school, with no friends, no artistic outlet, gaps in my education after being near the top of my class, and no idea what to do with all of these feelings. This may seem mild or even trivial, but to the girl who had known nothing but perfection for years and refused to feel emotion, this was rock bottom (or at least I thought so). I continued to push through life, because to give up would mean losing the perfect image, which was even more unacceptable than any other option.  This was one of my first battles with depression. I’d heard that it runs in my family, but I refused to accept that it was possible that I could be at risk. So I suffered in silence. Everything became a struggle. It was hard to desire to do anything. I went through the rest of high school like this. I was too ashamed to tell anyone what was happening. Some days were okay, and I felt like I could make it, others I stood in front of the mirror trying to figure out any way that I could change myself to become someone more perfect.  I still struggle with depression and the desire to appear perfect. Somewhere along the way I started to lie, to myself, but to my parents too. I would say anything to cover up the gaps and lapses depression and lack of motivation brought. I still do. I am so secretive, so terrified that if anyone finds out what I truly want or feel that I will destroy the perfect.  I have deprived myself of so many opportunities because of these things. I dig myself deeper into the feeling of failure because I’m horrified by the idea that I might not succeed if I try. I’ve spent the past two years “taking online classes” so that I could try to make a choice for a career that would please my parents. I refused to apply for schools because I was afraid that they might not pick me, or worse, they would and then I would have to go there and face everything that terrifies me.  I hid everything that had to do with writing, because that’s a career that wouldn’t make enough money to be “approved”. I hid my paintings and drawings, because they might show something that may be dark about me. I hid my violin in the deepest part of my closet, because heaven forbid I let anyone hear me playing because it brings me joy. I gave up on training my dog, because he has some aggressive tendencies and I don’t want to admit that I can’t fix him. I covered up any hint of depression, because I couldn’t admit to a doctor, let alone my own family that maybe I wasn’t okay.  I gave up so many things, I gave up my future. All for some stupid, unattainable idea that I need to be perfect, that I need to please other people. I haven’t come out of a lot of these things. I still fear so much, and feel like I have failed in so many ways. I don’t know that I’ll ever bring some of these things truly into light. I do know however, that I am done giving up my future in order to live in fear. I know that the only reason I’ll hit post is because I think that not a soul will bother to read this. If you made it this far, I’m sorry that I rambled on. I just need to tell you one thing. I know that you probably have made your own mistakes and have lived your own horror story in some way, but please take this one thing and apply it to your own story: Stop letting yourself die in fear, and let yourself live in hope and love.

[scribeoftheking]

I guess that I thought taking my trip would fix everything. Like maybe people would realize that they missed me. Maybe my parents could work out their issues without me around. Maybe I would be able to love myself again. Maybe I could quit being so angry that i’ll never be my sister. Maybe I could learn to be brave, fearless, and carefree. 

I was wrong. I wanted so much from my trip to India. I wanted to find myself. I didn't get most of that. I got back and things were like they've always been. My mom and I still can't have a conversation about me. My dad still doesn't have time to spare for me. The two of them argue a lot. I still have no friends here. I'm alone,I don't feel brave, I can't be good enough for anyone, I still have no clue about my life, and heck my own dog doesn't even love me like I wish he did. 

I know there's hope. I know that I'll be okay somehow. I know this will work out eventually, but right now I just don't know how.  So here I am, broken, alone, and confused as ever.

[scribeoftheking]

Is it okay to shatter?

I’m sure it isn't so.

I try to pick up pieces,

But I want to let them go.

Another thought went missing. 

I’ve left it all alone.

I can't seem to see straight through,

I wish I never had to go.