Nothing Is as It Seems...-11

I sit in this darkened basement, layers of emotions clouding my mind and heart. I feel like dousing myself with lacquer thinner but that would only prompt a hasty dash to the ER and a psychiatrist’s attentions, both of which are not needed at present.

No, these emotions are like baked on casserole; they have to soak and soften, or else risk chipping the glass it’s stuck to. Attempting to manually remove the domestic cement before its ready to come off can prove disastrous. Granted, the glass is chipped and jagged in some places, but like all good dishware, still holding up and providing a means to nourish others. Still, what to do with the casserole?

It was unexpected, encountering so many things I didn’t expect to deal with on arriving home. Changes. People leaving or being left. I’ve heard lies and truths (which is worse, I’ve not rightly decided). But what of it all?

I’ve had a surge of emotions, since returning. God (or the devil) has brought things up that I thought I had made peace with; the death of a dog (random, I know), betrayal, loss, anger, hurt, disappointment…each of these has bustled its way to center stage and stands there, belligerently glaring at me knowing I’m reeling from the transition from my college life to my home life. Even as I try to orient myself in this new sphere, as I heft my duct tape to patch up the holes I’d left and scissors, of where I need to re-enter…these emotions, like grisly shadow puppets on the backstage of my heart seem to pantomime my actions.

I have moments of clarity, don’t get me wrong. I’m trying not to wallow, but it’s hard when I’m in a different camp, not enemies, just strangers of the same force…it’s difficult to know how to say what needs to be said. Hard to know which tightrope to walk, or which one to cut down. Life isn’t that simple, much to my chagrin, and more than once I’ve caught myself staring up into the blue expanse, feeling like a Deist as these hurtful emotions seem to whisper that God just wants to throw things at me to grow me, through pain. I fear that they are right, even as my logical side stands up and reminds me that God is working for my good. But my weak side huddles, wanting to throw my arms around what is precious to me and hold it to my chest, prepared to plead and cry with God. Prepared to ask him to do anything but take the ones I love, to tell him that I will learn the lessons, take the pain, just pleading with him not to teach me by removing those I need in this life. But I fear He would.

I look at the shadows, and know that they don’t belong in the forefront of my world. I squelch them back into their box, re-affixing the duct tape to them, knowing that they are valid emotions but that they don’t own me. I stand again, prepared and raw, to learn what God has for me to learn, hoping that if I give him my treasures, He will protect them and leave them with me instead of taking them back. I have to trust this, it’s my only hope.