Wrecked ~ (Diary Entry #2)

Dear Diary (Heavenly Father),

July 29, 2021. A day never goes by when the same three words linger in the depths of my soul: I'm dead inside. Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. To wake up every morning is a blessing and a force. Forcing my body to move. Because I know better than to lie down all day for no reason. Things won't get done and all the fingers will point back to me. My heavy heart pulls me like an anchor and sinks within. I try to be optimistic. It's in there fighting against the pessimism. I trust in You every day because if I don't...how will I survive?

I'm not complaining here, let's just be clear. Take it open and honest. I'm grateful that I have permission to eat, breathe, live, move, etc. Many people don't have that luxury. Sure, tons of money, a mansion, fans, fame, the desire for recognition. That's an easy lure for anyone and I don't look down upon those who strive for it. But truly, what does it mean? Without You God, why does it matter? As easy it could be to gain, it's just as easy to lose. Everything is temporary, but You are timeless. So while it's not a problem to pursue passions in this world, it means nothing is said passions lead people away rather than towards You.

In learning what I know now, Your Word is really eye opening and I'm happy to progress. To become a better person. Which is why I'm at odds with my emotions. Now we have never been in sync, you know this. But, this sadness, it's confusing. Tears want to soak my cheeks and race down my face for endless hours. My body moves, my mouth speaks, yet someone else is at the wheel. It's good if it's wisdom or advice to guide others to You and to help out in general. But when it's an out-of-body experience? I'm numb. I see myself going and going, but don't feel it. What have I come to? Did I do something wrong? Nevermind that last one, of course I probably did something wrong. Typical.

Still, my hope and faith tag team as a defense. They're doing a darn good job because I haven't grabbed the gorgeously, sharp knife glistening in the kitchen and stabbed myself to death. In fact, I don't see the point of it anymore. I'd go to hell for it, so why attempt? Besides, how am I supposed to carry the purpose set for me if I'm dead? I'd regret it terribly so. In knowing this, I keep fighting and refuse surrender. With You by my side, anything can be overcome. And You do and allow things to occur for a reason. So, whatever those reasons may be, I'm positive that it will be worth it.

However in being highly aware of all of this, I can't stand the battle. I know I'm not ungrateful and I know that I'm pushing so hard to do right. But then, it's like it only takes one sentence and I want to blow up everything in sight with no shame. The depression, the sadness, the torment, the wickedness, the violence, the anger, the drive I suppress balls up and swirls deeply. A bomb waiting to explode. But it wouldn't matter, because in this family, it's clear that I don't.

That aside, I look to dismiss. You are the most important, family a distant second, and then friends/others. The more I remember that, the more helpful I become. Maybe I'm confusing selfless for self neglect, but does it really matter? It's what's best. Because if I don't, then selfishness will rise, pride will rise, and that can't ever happen. Not again.

Sincerely,

Diary Writer