I'm not who I am.

I cry in the bathroom at work. I cry when I get home from work. I cry when the dog won't quit licking my face. I cry when dinner turns out below mediocre. I cry when friends text me or leave me voicemails that I'll never return, because I just don't have it in me. I cry when I think about all the things I need to do that I'm not doing. I cry when I think about all the people I'm disappointing by not doing what I need to be doing. I cry because some people don't realize all the balls I'm dropping and can't find the strength to pick up right now.

When I'm not crying, my body is lead and my mind feels like that weird moment between when you press the power button on your television remote and the moment when the picture finally shows up. It feels like my mind is always just waking up, clumsily reaching out and searching for something it can't find.

This all basically means I'm tired and lazy. I often find myself apologizing to my 9-month old ridiculously energetic puppy. "I'm sorry Dodger," I'll say as I trudge up the stairs to the apartment after a walk cut short. "I just can't." We used to walk together for at least 45 minutes each day--20 minutes here, 20 minutes there. Now we do good to get in 20 minutes total for the day.

And then I cry when he sits and stares at me while I lie on the couch. At least he's not a real child, is all I can say.

This isn't all for lack of trying. I try so hard. Oh, happy day. Joy to the world, the Lord has come. Rejoice in the Lord always. I've got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart! (Where?) 

I (halfheartedly) sing songs. I (try to) pray. I (try to) read my Bible. I still go (drag myself) to church, surrounded by the good example of happy people who obviously love Jesus more than I do, but these days it feels more like an obligation than a joy. But, despite all of that, I tell myself I need to live out the joy of my salvation and let my little light shine and all that other happy stuff that should make me smile incessantly. I don't think I ever believe myself. It always feels like a little girl talking back to a 7-foot man wielding a chainsaw. Futile.

So, instead, I curse the sun's rising. I can't get out of bed. I'm irritated by everyone I know (sorry, guys.) I Google suicide methods (out of curiosity). I nurse headaches and stomach aches I never had in sunnier days. 

I try to tell myself that I don't really need to take a bath, because it takes a lot of energy to take a bath (I end up doing it, BTW. I'm not running around with last week's dirt behind my ears). I skip meals if I'm too lazy to put them together. (I know. It's such a struggle even to pour cereal and milk.)

I'm not fun to be around anymore. I can't even make myself laugh these days, so I don't see anyone else enjoying my company. I'm five steps behind instead of 10 steps ahead. I don't look forward to anything. I don't see anything in the future.

I'm not who I am.  I'm sorry.

Almost as scary as a bill.

It makes me a wee bit nervous when I see a letter in my mailbox from my church. 

I always imagine it's a letter, more like a written notice, telling me that I'm no longer welcome to attend Church on the Boulder* because I (pick one) made a joke so off-color there's not an HTML code for it/accidentally referred to "God" as "Dog" in every reference in the church newsletter/talked back too loudly at the preacher during his sermon/sang a *really* bad note on stage/never bring my Bible inside the sanctuary. 

The only way I know I'm safe is when I read the greeting. I know I'm safe when it says, "Dear COTB Family."

"Whew!" I say to myself at that point while uncorking a bottle of wine and cleaning my gun in preparation for a night of sinful debauchery. "They didn't revoke my non-membership!"** 

(Another indication of a safe letter? Thickness. If it's thicker than one or two pages, it's safe, because it's probably a long explanation, with pictures and forms, of some building project thing.  Nobody would waste all that paper on something just for me. Unless it's a lawsuit.)

* Not actual name of church

** I'm not one of those "afraid to commit" people. I'm just too lazy to attend the membership class after church on the Sunday when it comes up every other month. I mean, formal membership is not necessary to participate in anything...well, nothing that I've wanted to get my grubby hands involved in, anyway. The only difference is that, if I die while I live here in Gautier, Miss., and attend that church, my obituary should state that "She attended Church on the Boulder" instead of "She was a member of Church on the Boulder." 

Covenant-keeping God

I'm going to bed super early tonight and would love to blog so much more today, but I have all kinds of flu-like symptoms and feel like death warmed over.

But...I will post this song. :O)

Exodus 6

¹ Then the LORD said to Moses, "Now you will see what I will do to Pharaoh: Because of my mighty hand he will let them go; because of my mighty hand he will drive them out of his country."

 ² God also said to Moses, "I am the LORD. ³ I appeared to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob as God Almighty, but by my name the LORD  I did not make myself known to them.  ⁴ I also established my covenant with them to give them the land of Canaan, where they lived as aliens. ⁵Moreover, I have heard the groaning of the Israelites, whom the Egyptians are enslaving, and I have remembered my covenant.

 ⁶ "Therefore, say to the Israelites: 'I am the LORD, and I will bring you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians. I will free you from being slaves to them, and I will redeem you with an outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgment. ⁷ I will take you as my own people, and I will be your God. Then you will know that I am the LORD your God, who brought you out from under the yoke of the Egyptians. ⁸ And I will bring you to the land I swore with uplifted hand to give to Abraham, to Isaac and to Jacob. I will give it to you as a possession. I am the LORD.' "

Favorite song of the week

"You are my strength, strength like no other..."

I sang this song in my head while I was in the MRI machine for an hour and had to pee and wasn't supposed to move or even swallow too hard

My eye and MRI

I had an MRI done today, so doctors can figure out what's causing my eye to turn red (more than usual) and protrude (more than usual).

When the symptoms first popped up last week, I assumed I'd just given myself an eye infection. I touch my bum eye a lot, because it requires "maintenance." (It creates a lot of eye boogers and leaks a lot of water.) So when I went to the optometrist Monday, I assumed I'd be sent home with a prescription and a warning to quit touching my eye so much.

Instead, I was referred to an ocular surgeon and scheduled an MRI, because apparently an eye infection doesn't cause the eye to protrude, and the redness is an eye bruise. As the optometrist said, it's possible something is growing behind the eye.

My mom knows what's going on, only because I had to call her for some of my medical history. And she's already assured me that she'll come down "when something is scheduled."

(Hold on, Mom. We don't know anything yet. Park the horse and buggy...)

If I have to make a guess based on no years in medical school and the occasional episode of ER, I'd guess that if there's any growth behind my eye, it's part of the lymphatic malformation/lymphatic hemangioma/cystic hygroma/whatever people are calling it these days that already exists as part of my birth defect. It's not unheard of for that particular birth defect to grow, and I had parts of it removed from around my eye when I was a child.

I guess I should be thankful if it turns out to be just part of my birth defect. I mean, after all, it's not cancerous and might not even require surgery, if I could live with the idea of a more protruded eyeball. ("More protruded"? Whatever.)

On the other hand, if it *is* part of my birth defect, it's like the birth defect wins another point on the score card of life.

Of course, I could be wrong and it could be a random cyst or absolutely nothing.

P.S. I wiped out my entire HRA account to pay the $1,000 deductible required under my health insurance plan, because an MRI costs $5452! Gee whiz...so much for rolling that money over to next year's plan!

This made me LOL

If you grew up in church in the late 90s/earlu 2000s, you know who Jennifer Knapp is.

She was a highly regarded singer/songwriter, released several albums, then dropped off the face of the earth with no explanation. Her Web site languished without an update for years. Her record label released a couple of greatest hits/live albums after she disappeared. 

It was even rumored that she had dropped out of Christian music because she had...teh gayness!

But her longtime fans can rejoice. It appears Jen has returned.

Rerun of the desire to have a train solve my problems for me

I once posted an entry about how I was having such a crappy day that I wished a train would kill me.

This is pretty much a rerun of that post, except amended to say that, as I was walking Dodger tonight, a truck passed us on the road and I remember thinking, "I kinda wish that truck would swerve and kill me." 

(Geez, I'm pretty dramatic, aren't I?)

In a completely related note, I got a signed "final warning" letter from the major boss that says my performance has not been up to par. (Long story. I'm not even going into it now, or my anger will flare up and I will sin in all kinds of ways just short of cursing and throwing up my trusty middle fingers.)

So, basically, it appears I will be kicked to the curb soon. Luckily, I'm on vacation next week, so I have plenty of time to decide if it's smarter to quit or be fired, and what kinds of cheeky things I'll say on the way out if I do get the boot of doom.

Oh, I guess I can also job hunt for jobs that don't exist.

P.S. Other positive? Maybe I *won't* have to work this Christmas! *insert eyeroll here*