Still fighting

I’ve been meaning to – wanting to – write something lately.  I have all this stuff floating around in my head but I can’t seem to make sense of any of it, at least not enough to form thoughts and ideas that would make sense to anyone else.  I’m silent because I’m a little scared, and a little weak, and still a lot insecure.  Opportunities have been placed before me lately and while I am grateful for the confidence in the presenting, I’m still unsure of my ability.  I actually watched a hypnotist on Dr. Oz yesterday (let’s not get into why I was watching Dr. Oz in the first place) and he was talking about using hypnosis to tap into the subconscious mind to free oneself of negative impulses.  He was mainly talking about weight loss and quitting smoking but he also touched on the idea of freeing people from their own self-doubt and lack of confidence.  I watched intently hoping to gain a tool of some kind that I could use to pry open my lockbox of insecurity and release all of it, but after 30 minutes of watching, no such luck.  I even thought about looking in the phone book for hypnotists in my area who might be able to help me.  I’m embarrassed even writing it, but I am glad to say I did not look. 

So no hypnotists in my future, and still no tattoo (Dad), but still hanging on to the same old fears and other belaboring junk. 

And I keep thinking of the words often spoken, “My grace is sufficient for you” and quickly realizing I don’t always believe it.  This then makes me wonder if not believing takes away from the validity of the statement, or just robs me of the ability to receive its truth.  The grace eludes me, or I elude it. 

There’s been a lot of screaming going on inside my head recently.  I’ve been listening to this Dave Matthew’s Song called “Gray Street”.  The chorus at one point goes:

            “There’s an emptiness inside her/and she’d do anything to fill it in/and though it’s red blood bleeding from her now/it’s more like cold blue ice in her heart/She feels like kicking out all the windows/and setting fire to this life/if she could change everything about her/into colors bold and bright/but all the colors mix together/ to gray/and it breaks her heart”

And that’s how I feel lately.  A little dramatic, I know. 

No placating encouragement needed.  I’m just doing a little wrestling.  Really wanting to curl up under shadowy wings and hide out for a while but hiding doesn’t seem to be in my cards right now.  Getting down in the mix, in the mess, and duking it out does.  I’ll be swinging like a madwoman and hope I’m not just shadowboxing. 

Maybe one of the punches will knock loose the lid to that box…