Siren Call

Put me in a bottle and throw me to the waves. Let me float away into the unknown, let me submit to the will of the tides. Not for cleansing or absolution, for there is no ocean deep enough to dilute guilt, no current strong enough to wash away regrets. But escape…escape the waters can give. The choice of the coward, the way of the weak, but also of the desperate.

I will drift away from everyone I love, everyone I’ve hurt. I will sail from offered faith that I can never deserve.  I will let myself be tossed in turbulent waters, until I am forgotten, until I forget. Far from home, far from what I want to be and should be and yet cannot become. Far away.

The sea beckons to me — a kindred spirit as fickle, as inconstant as my conflicted soul. I long to surrender, for I am beyond tired. There is no rest in the world I’m in. No rest. I long to surrender.

So put me in a bottle and throw me to the waves. Let me float away into the unknown. Let me be as lost to the world as I already am inside. Perhaps then I can be found.

A Convenient Pretense

I’m okay.

Of course, you and I know that I’m not, but we’ll pretend that we believe this. You’ll pretend because you don’t want to cross my boundaries and I’ll pretend because it’s easier. You see, I have no answers for the questions I know you might ask. I could give you the words my therapist tells me to say, but they will only need more explanations. Bipolar disorder. Depression. Dysthymia. Names, labels. Answers that aren’t really reasons. Just another set of “whys”.

Or I could break down in front of you and pour out the jumbled, chaotic tangle of thoughts that is my inner reality nowadays and let you deal with it how you may. I could tell you that I’m feeling helpless, confused, guilty, hopeless, and exhausted. And sad. That I know I’m letting everyone who loves me down and that I have no more strength to do anything about it. At the risk of sending you into a panic, I could even admit that I long for the relief of not being here anymore. Oblivion. And that it scares me, wanting it.

But really, what can you do? You can feel sorry for me and give me a hug, if you’re the kind of person who does that. Or you could just settle for a pat on the back. Then you’d tell me to “Think positive,” or even “Be strong”, or any other platitude that I’ve heard and tried a thousand times before and I’d resist the urge to cry out in frustration and pain that you don’t understand! — because honestly? I don’t understand either.  And it would be unfair to take it out on someone like you who was only trying to be nice.

So I’ll just smile and tell you I’m okay instead. Yes, I’m fine.

Because really, what else is there to say?

Day 25 — The person you know that is going through the worst of times

God uses even the bitterness of tears to cleanse our hearts and unveil the sweetness of our souls. ~ from Reflections

To someone infinitely precious,

You are one of the most amazing people I have ever met.  There’s a light inside you, a glow, that comes from your soul, and it shines on everyone around you. You are sweet and beautiful and kind. And you are also one of the strongest women I know.

But you don’t always have to be. You’re allowed to be weak sometimes, to break down. You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel, whether or not it makes sense. Right now, you don’t feel like being wise, or capable, or ideal. It’s okay. People may have put you on a pedestal, but you don’t have to stay there.  I love you, whether you’re standing tall with a smile or kneeling down crying. Others will, too. The ones that matter, the ones that deserve you, will love you anyway.

You are dearer to me than my own heart. And it hurts so much because I know this darkness well — I am familiar with it, in a way that I had hoped that you will never, ever have to be. But despite the pain I’m feeling for you, I know that your light is bright enough. It may flicker, but it will never completely go out. I know this because I know the Source of your flame, and it is eternal. It will lead you through the dark and into the dawn again.

I believe in you always. And I may not be close enough to hold your hand, but in every beat of my heart, there’s a prayer for you, and a dose of faith that all will be well.  I love you so, so much. You are not alone.

Always,

Me

Day 13 — Someone you wish could forgive you

With some people solitariness is an escape not from others but from themselves. ~ Eric Hoffer

To everyone who expected more from me,

I’ve let you down. There is no way to deny it, no way to make it seem less of a disappointment. The thing is, when I am at my best, I seem to be someone strong and intensely alive — someone  who can fulfill all expectations with a smile. But I am weaker than  you can possibly guess, and sooner or later it overwhelms me and leaves you confused, bewildered, and disillusioned. I know this, know that it will happen. And so, even on the good days, when all is well and I can feel you beginning to trust me, I live with the painful awareness that it will end soon enough. And it does.

The heartbreaking thing is that I can’t promise it will never happen again. I desperately want to be someone who never lets you down, someone you can always, always count on. But I can’t. There’s something in me, something that has nothing to do with you, that keeps me from always being there. It sets me apart, until, inevitably, I find myself completely alone. And if this hurts you, if you see this as a form of rejection, then you must know that there is no one it wounds more deeply than me, and that the only one being rejected is myself.

Every day, I live with the guilt of failing you, of not being who you expect me to be, who I deeply long to be. You have to believe this, if you believe nothing else: I do not mean to be this way. I ache to be the person you think I am more than you can understand.

I do not know if you can still forgive me this time. But if you can, maybe it will get me closer to forgiving myself.

I am so sorry.

Love,

Your absent friend