I can’t get my thoughts clear. I’m stumbling on these realizations all at once it seems and it’s hard to swallow it all making it harder to say.
If I could define the human condition, I think I would use only two words: lost and broken. The pain comes like clockwork, doesn’t it? And when things are wrong, everything seems to tear apart at the seams until there is nothing left. Do you feel trapped at all thinking about this sometimes? I do. It seems so inescapable.
But the human condition is not so simple. There’s more that comes with the brokenness, more than we bargained for. There’s this need in us all to fix whatever is wrong. We find it in different things. But the result is inevitably the same. There will always be a day, a moment, just a glimpse of a feeling that there is never anything that will suffice. It’s more than just wanting more, it’s knowing that whatever you have will never be enough to make things right.
Hope. A part that some have more than others and a part I am lacking in. Do you ever look at people and wonder what they have, what they know that you don’t? I know in all reality they have the same doubts, the same questions, the same worries as me, but on the outside their hope seems irrevocable, unshakable, unrelenting. They have an ever-flowing cup full of things they know will turn out right, if they just have patience, if they just try, if they just pray…
I will always envy this person, the person I used to be and can’t seem to grab hold of anymore. I am not so deceived to believe that there will be no happiness on the horizon, no glimmer of hope or dreams come true. But fleeting. It will always be fleeing my side, running away from me. And I think this may be the first time I
will not chase. I will not chase after you.
I have spent far too long waiting on things that will never come. It seems I have been paralyzed into this state of inaction for so long that I have lost touch of so much of what was once me. We all have dreams, don’t we? We all have these places we see ourselves, these things we assume will work out and be a part of our lives. I refuse to assume that anymore. I refuse to assume that things in my life will just work out. So much recently has taken the fight out of me. I’ve felt broken to a million pieces and just when I begin to reset and make form, it’s gone again. There is no hope of bringing it back in my mind. There is no hope in me at all.
At work, my co-workers were teasing me for constantly letting people take advantage of me. Getting coffee, picking up lunch, staying late. These people have attempted to build me up more than anyone I’ve known before.
You can’t expect to be paid your worth when you can’t define it yourself.
That’s my problem. So often dreams are dashed, hopes are left unmet and everything falls to bits. So often, we get back up and start the process anew. When will the breaking point be where you can’t stand the process any longer and what will you do? Will you stand by and let things continue to happen- or for once could you make them happen yourself?
There are so few things I have control over in my life. I can’t control who will hire me, what the day will be like, traffic, prices, fights, or who will love me. And instead of taking hold of the few things I can control, I have let the uncontrollable sweep me away in this wave of commotion where nothing is ever right, nothing ever true, and nothing ever works out.
Hope is the most dangerous thing in the world to me right now. It’s led me to so many dark places, but at the same time those dark places would still be prominent without it. The difference between hopes met and hopes dashed is so slight. It happens too quickly to understand. It’s the big bet at the end of the night and you know one way or another things will not be the same.
I think I’ve let life happen to me more often than I have made things happen. There were and are always reasons why to wait, why to build a home here, why to stay and stick it out, but the reasons only weigh so much over time. And soon the persisting feeling of inadequacy isn’t so easy to swallow. Soon, waking up is not the only hard thing to do. Breathing. Laughing. Smiling. And you’ll accept it for a while because hope tells you that maybe things will change. Maybe the scale will begin to tip your way. But it doesn’t. It’s always a sliding scale in the wrong direction and soon you’re fed up with waiting. Waiting. It’s like clockwork the way things work out. And the pain is always on time. The hurt never fails. And when people say things will get better, you don’t disagree. You know better because things are never better or worse as much as they are cyclical.
This cycle, this place, these things, these feelings, they can’t stay. I used to think it didn’t matter where I was, it mattered who I was with. That a home was just four walls until there were people you loved in it. To find a place where you fit. To find your home. I’m going to do something I thought I never would. I am going to find my worth and not let it disappear. Not let even the people I love walk over me. Quit my job. Move.
Maybe all we’re ever doing is delaying the inevitable facts of life. That until there is a purpose to define the aspects of your day, there is no point. And until the point exists, life becomes a series of paths running astray. All I know for sure is that whatever we run from eventually finds us whether it’s hopelessness, fear, punishment, regret. I think one day there will be many things to regret. One day you’ll wish things were different. What I wish is simply that in the midst of the brokenness and beaten path, I’ll find a place in it all, a place that is not wrecked with hopelessness, but with purpose.
And sometimes after the wars within yourself, the risk actually pays off.