A Cry for Prayer from a Stumbling, Lost Soul

This is my last resort. I didn't want to blog because I was so sick of everyone questioning my stability and sanity. I was severely depressed for most of my life. Nothing new about that. What I wish people would see is that I'm not that person anymore. Every broken nail doesn't leave me screaming. (Exaggeration, but you get it.) It sucks because I'm going through a really tough time and I'm afraid to talk about it because I don't want people to look at me like they used to. Look at me like they're wondering if I'm going to go home and slit my wrists. Dying is the last thing I want to do. I'm nowhere near ready to die. I keep praying for one more day to try to get it right. I'm not afraid to live anymore.

With that said. I am struggling a lot right now. In my faith and just in general. Last night was tough for me. I came to some harsh realizations and my past came back to bite me once again. This is what I wrote in my journal:

I hate my life. I hate who I’ve been and what I’ve become. Nothing feels right.
Nothing feels safe. Everything looks as hollow as I feel. Everything feels
as hollow as I look. The look in their eyes tells me that it shows. I know
it shows. My name is synonymous with train-wreck and this time there’s no
survivors. I know this isn’t the end, but I’m so burned out that I don’t how
to start moving again. The way he looked at me made me feel like a pitiful
creature that was falling apart. Only I'm allowed to know how much I'm
crumbling. So why do I let him see it? I hid it so well, so why did I let him in
on my pain today? I could've kept my mouth shut.I know he wonders why I sit here
at all hours talking to people that I'll never know, never meet, never feel. How
do you explain to someone who is so happy and thinks you're so content, that
really you feel empty? Like you've just been going through the motions. Like you
haven't really been alive.

Today at church I cried three times.

1. First in main service. All this talk about Failure To Thrive. That's exactly what it was. I was living, but I wasn't thriving. I'm still not. I was (am) afraid to love and afraid to trust. I'm afraid to let go of the past because it's the one thing I can always count on the be there, whether I want it to or not. So there I sat. Throwing the past in between me and Jesus. Letting myself fall into a rut. I am still so scared.
2. I cried again during Turnpike when I overheard Micah talking. He was saying something I've heard from him before. "I know this chair will support me. I know this chair will hold me. But I'm not going to sit in it." That's how I feel sometimes. I know God won't leave. He won't abandon me like the people of my past. He has showed me that time and time again with answered prayers. But what if the chair doesn't hold me? It's safer to just stand. I hate when I think like that, but I'm scared that's almost instinct.
3. The third time was at Catalyst while Greg was closing us in prayer. I had been holding back tears for quite some time. As soon as we bowed our heads and I was safe from harsh glances, I let go. I couldn't hold it in anymore. The truth? I'm jealous. I know exactly what Greg means about living double lives and how tiring it is. I know what it feels like when those lives suddenly crash into each other head on. What I don't know is what it's like to finally be free. It seems like everytime I start getting it right, I suddenly find myself back on square one, trying to juggle who I am and who I pretend to be. I want it to stop, but I don't know how. I don't think I'm strong enough to do it on my own.

I am so tired of falling. I'm so tired of disappointing everyone, especially God. I'm so tired of being me. I want to be free. I want to dance for joy knowing that I am fully and eternally loved. I do know it. I know it with every fiber of my being. But I am so scared. I'm scared just writing this. The last thing I want is for everyone to know how weak I truly am, but like I said I can't do this alone.

So there it is. Think of me how you will. This is just a desperate cry from deep within the depths of a stumbling, lost soul.