Sunday, January 26, 2014

Mourning.

I have a beautiful apartment. It is a large two bedroom on the top floor of one of the oldest buildings in town. The outer walls slightly slant from the old Victorian architecture. It has the old large windows through which the light of day floods every inch of every room. The building sits right in the middle of downtown. I can see everything.

It has a huge kitchen that invites me to cook and entertain. I love to cook and entertain.

I have artwork all of the walls and a 3D mural decorates the main wall of the living room.

It's all very chic and stylish. I feel so very bohemian living here...

But sometimes large and sunny, stylish and chic, are oppressive to the senses. Just empty space. All this space to live out an envious life and paint the appearances of loving life.

But I don't love life. Not this life. I had thought of it as a passing fancy, a temporary location which I pass through on a journey home.

No one knows how I feel. No one knows the death I've been experiencing or the mourning in which there is no light... It's as if... This world and life I created, this journey and path down which I walked, that I thought was so certain and so real, suddenly evaporated into an illusion. And all that's left is this woman, alone, in a big empty space.

And I tell myself how silly it is. It is silly, to be so distraught over the loss of what was every just mere possibility. A hope. Something I never came close to having and only deluded myself into thinking it was possible... And the very idea that my organs are vital to my womanhood, what is that? Just merely a narrow definition of self.

Why should I be so broken that I cannot have children? Get over it. It's not the end of the world...

But that's just it. It is the end of the world. The end of my world and the reality and facts that everyone else takes for granted. It reaches down to the core of my beliefs and aborts the very foundations upon which I have been living...

My world has ended. And now it's just an empty, hollow space...

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Dark Night

I just wanted a family. A husband and children, nothing more.

But God has rotted my uterus. And men... See me nothing more than a whore.

And I think about faith: I used to doubt my faith. And a priest once asked me, " Do you believe in God? Do you believe in Jesus Christ, the he came down from heaven was born of the Virgin Mary and died for the forgiveness of your sins? Do you believe in eternal life?" I replied, "yes." And the priest said, "then you have faith."

But what if none of that matters to you anymore? I still believe in the doctrine. I just don't care anymore. What of my faith then? Is that faith? When after giving up everything for God and trying to follow His will, and giving up all secular desire of money, success, esteem, and the only thing I yearn for, all that I long for is a good man who loves me and children whom we adore, and that dream is ripped from my heart and trampled on the ground...

Two days ago, I was at adoration, and I prayed and pleaded, after a most painful violation of trust, how Lord can I abandon this desire? A desire I thought was Divine will, that over and over seems frustrated. How can I let go, when the thought of such hopelessness would be a death for me?

This morning I ended up in the hospital. My womb and organs are poisoned and useless.

Thus is God's answer...

So what of forgiveness of sin and eternal life? When God has stolen my will to love or live...