Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Flat Tires

On this day in history, well, a year ago at least, I wrote in my journal from a train in Australia.

"Another day. Who am I today? Today I am tired, cold-sick/stomach-sick, weak, and a bit defeated. Today I am depressed, feeling hopeless, isolated, forgotten, and far from home.

Why is it that I have never heard of a student missionary story even similar to mine? Do I think too much? Am I too uptight? Do I over analyze? Do I need serious help? Am I a nutcase? Do I ask way too many questions?

I am that girl with issues. I am that girl who throws up what she eats. I am that girl who is existing in her own life. I am that girl that you look at and feel sorry for because not even she can see how great she is. If I can write it, why can't I believe it?

At this point in my life I totally understand why a person would use drugs. Suicide is extreme and pointless, but drugs would be temporary relief from this unexplainable pain from the loneliness, the regret, the self-hatred, and exhaustion. I don't want drugs. But I can relate to someone on the verge of using them. I want to be numb. The women in magazines seem so far removed from the reality I wake up to everyday. When was the last time I woke-up exctited to be alive?

This is who I am. I am that girl, right now. The psychological effects of this experience are taking its toll. I am cultured out. I am exhausted. I am homeless. I am far from home and it shows. I do not recognize the face that glared at me in the mirror this morning. What have I turned into? Am I monster at heart that no one has ever met?Is this real? Am I the perfect character for the next upcoming psychological thriller? I am scaring myself. I am that sad girl, sitting on the city train to Sydney, wearing mostly black, numb to the world around her.

But I don't want to be that girl. I want to be someone else. I am tired of this existence. I want to be this girl:
-comfortable just being
-at peace
-content with life as it is
-passionate about living, dancing, people, doing dishes, whatever! Alive would be nice.
-still learning and growing
-able to see food as necessary nourishment and possibly even enjoy it
-honest

I need hope."

WOW. That is painful to read. Aye carumba! That girl isn't so far removed that I don't recognize her, I just haven't seen her in awhile.

That girl has had a hell of a year, traveled half-way around the globe and found herself, somehow, sitting amazingly upright, amazingly peaceful, amazingly all those things she'd wished and hoped for a year ago on a train in Australia.

Every part of me wants to dissect and analyze every piece of life: the "why"s and "how"s that make life fluid, vibrant, and mysterious. I want to understand better so I can come up with a formula, a tried and true method of making life consistent, predictable, and attainable. But "the only constant is change," and as much as I hate hearing that, I see it in my journals, my blogs, pictures, friendships, and experiences.

When I read about wars, I want to come up with solutions so history does not repeat itself or when I listen to my grandpa, I want to capture an ounce of the joy he tells stories of. Sitting in education classes, I'm reminded of the fluidity or constant movement of the human race and how amazingly, even upon bestowing our precious planet to the next generation of what was once those "reckless, irresponsible" teenagers, time passes, governments form, churches maintain attendance, and life goes on, almost seamlessly.

I have not at all mastered my wish list from the train and maybe I never will. It's a journey. It's a road trip full of detours, scenic routes, dead ends, and broken engines. There will be flat tires, flat hair, flat lands, and flattened egos, but either way, it's a trip that's bound to be a wild adventure.

That said, ask me tomorrow.

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