Some may call this anger.

I don't even know what I'm trying to say right now.
Or why I'm even saying anything.

I don't bring a journal to church, I always end up doodling in it, or I sit there and think of clever things to write down during the message, as if one day i'll trick myself into thinking that I came up with this stuff all on my own.

I can't write in my journal at church. I somehow always make it about me, or I write knock knock jokes I brilliantly made up, or I get frustrated cause my handwriting is so ugly, or my paragraph is off-centered, or the speaker talks too fast and I couldn't get the daggum verse reference. And I don't bring my bible because I look at Song of Solomon the whole time and laugh at the awkward parts. Or I look up pretty bible names for little girls that I could use for my daughter one million years in the future. Or I try to find the second shortest verse ever. If I'm not careful and I get my hands on one, i can highlight my way into friggin' oblivion.

I like to think I come to church - just me. I come to listen, not fidget with how artsy my journal looks or what version of the bible I like better. I like to think I come this way to ensure my attention on the important things. To 'hear God speak' or something. [oh hey. insert cheesy christian line here.] But I say I LIKE to think that, cause clearly its not true.

Because I had no journal today, no bible to mess with, I only sent like 4 texts, and they were to my mother. I did not fall asleep, I did not doodle, I did not bite my nails, I did not analyze the grammar of the speaker, I did not wait to see if the words to the worship music would mess up, I didn't eye stalk Matt Wertz, I didn't even try to figure out the key signatures for each song in my head and on my fingers... and I ALWAYS do that. I just sat there. And I just listened.

All I know is I've become so cynical I can hardly pay attention in church anymore. I hear the preacher. But my heart won't let me listen. I see his lips moving, I hear everyone around me turn the pages in their bibles, I see people raising their hands out of the corner of my eye. But I didn't feel a thing this morning. I listened but I couldn't hear. And I heard, but I couldn't listen. What was even weirder was I tried... but had no success. Because I'm so mad. The people around me are the reason I'm mad, but love is what they claim. Its what we all claim. I claim to Love too. What?

Thought running through my head as I'm taking communion and crying and hugging people and not reading my bible and not journaling but somehow still not listening - "HOW did I get here"?

So I cried. And I cried hard. I sniffled, I took communion and then I blubbered some more. Just in my seat, as quiet as I could, but I just wanted to scream the whole time. Someone rubbed my back, and someone sat next to me, and someone patted my leg but I wanted to push them away... and I also wanted to hold onto them... and I just hated it. I hurt I don't hurt I cry I don't cry I'm fine I'm not fine I hate you I don't hate you you did nothing wrong you did everything wrong.

I'm still hurting. So hard, and so bad. And so long.

I've spent this whole summer trying to feel pulled together. Ignoring when my ears burn or when I want to either throw up and/or throw something. Trying to feel strong, Trying to make things/people/feelings/emotions go away when clearly they are still here.

Oh hey big fat elephant in the room, how are ya? That was in May... Its August... You're still here... Great. Glad you've made yourself comfortable.

My heart is hardening, I can feel it. Its been a new defense mechanism of summer 2009, - HEY WORLD I'M FINE. I SWEAR. LOOK! HEY HEY HEY I'M FINE WHATS UP. I'm like that mannequin at the mall that looks really pulled together from the front, but then you look at the back & all they have done is just clipped and pinned everything really tight at the bottom where they think it can't be seen. But you see it. and then suddenly this mannequin's secret has been found out.

But not I'm not hardening my heart towards God, not towards service or people or church or anything really specific... I still believe in all that. Nothing has ACTUALLY changed. Its only towards [and this is embarrassing]...Love. Something I've always claimed to think was important.

Now how does this even make sense? When as Christians, we ultimately believe LOVE is the core of our being? That love is why we are even here in the first place? How can I be a christian when I'm to the point of screaming when someone mentions it?

Dear 'so called Love' , I just can't believe you lately. What are you doing? So do you see who you are hurting? Are you even the real thing? Or where you only put here to make 20somethings blog for hours on end?

I find myself wanting to grab anyone who will look me in the eyes, to make them tell me who they love. Just so I can see if they are lying.

Because so many people are lying!
Lying Lying Lyingggggg
youdon'tknowwhatloveIS you're lying.

So then I wake up every day and wonder who is genuine and who its just faking their happiness and who says those 3 words when deep down they know its not true and who actually hate themselves for that and which one of them doesn't even care and who's ex hates them and who's roommate dated who and how fast such&such's relationship started or ended or whatever and who's ex still cries and who slept with who and who snuck around with who and who's roommate texted my exs and who has kissed what and when and where and who has texted me or him or her and who looks prettier and who IS prettier and who is going where and what time they got home and thennnnn I get stressed about it and worry and get angry for myself and angry for others and then I just cry. Or I annoy my friends cause all I can talk about is hurt and pain and what is right and what is wrong and how differently things should have been handled and who is nicer and who can't be trusted and who is worthy and who is not. Who is hurting? who is good at hiding it? who is just like me? and who is too dumb to care?


And the worst thing about writing all this down is I'm still feeling this way. I'm still frustrated and I still don't feel any different. I'm so cynical in this moment I can feel it pouring out of my ears. Speaking of which, my ears won't stop burning. I'm lying in bed and I'm crying and I don't even know why.

Is it God? Or is it His fault? Or Hers? Or is it mine?

Is this what they call a quarter life crisis?

Or do I just need to get out more?

Would a new distraction actually cure all this?

actually please don't answer that.
Cause I'll probably think your answer is suspicious either way.