Well, life is strange right now; one day still blurs into another now that we haven’t gone to church for several weeks; going to church on Sunday always helped the week feel right; Monday felt like Monday and Tuesday felt like Tuesday. Not so much anymore but hopefully a new routine will help that.
I miss seeing people; church was pretty much the only place where I was able to socialize with people. I miss The Doctor a lot, I miss Sherlock Holmes a lot too; a year of reading Doyle’s works very faithfully every week set my mind in a certain pattern that I really miss. There was a security in doing the same thing every week: talk, pick a story, read the story, see each other on Sunday and gush over that story, talk some more and then pick another story. Week after week for at least eleven months; it was one of the few things that stayed consistently the same and it made me feel secure. It was nice knowing someone else was enjoying the exact same thing I was and wanted to do it with me as much I as I wanted to do it with him.
That pattern has now been shattered and I feel like I’m floating in space or under a great big river underwater not really knowing what to do now. No more reading, no more seeing my best friend, no more church. I miss it a lot.
The only problem with all this is that my dad will use (already has tried to use) the church and even my best friend as a manipulation tool to try to get me to start seeing him again on his time table and not mine. I do not understand why he can’t wait for me to be ready on my own time or that it is impossible for me to even consider attending a church with him. It hurts a lot to have things that are very dear to you used as dangled bait in front of your face as though your a dog who can’t see that’s it’s attached to a string. It’s hurtful and cruel.
I am thankful, though, that I do know what I need to do and that I now have the freedom hold my ground as to where my boundaries are and what I feel comfortable in doing. I’m done in being constantly run over, in being emotionally manipulated and being mentally frightened by what other people think. I need to do what it takes to protect myself; I’m done with being forced into a tiny box with no consideration to my feelings or needs as a person while being told that that is “biblical female submissiveness”. I’m done with that crap and I’m learning to stand up for myself and for my mom and siblings against patriarchy that has been horribly twisted and blown way out of biblical proportion. Enough is enough. The sad thing is that very few people have been able to understand our side of it or are unwilling to see how big of a problem it is and that really sucks.
So, yeah, those are some conflicting feelings I’ve been working through and I’ve been very grateful to God that I, as of yet, have not yet been completely crushed under the pressure.
So, I’ve had been struggling a lot recently, but comfort things always come in handy around now; like reading. I recently picked up my collection of HG Wells’ novels and started the Time Machine as sort of an antidote against my Holmes-reading-withdrawal (I think I and The Doctor have become as addicted to Sherlock Holmes as he’s addicted to heroin, actually). It’s been an interesting substitute to say the least. I like HG’s way of titling characters without necessarily giving them all names, like “the Medical Man” “the Provincial Mayor” “the Time Traveler” “the Editor” and then there’s Filby, who has quite the personality.
It’s different but interesting and enlightening in many ways in regards to my own writing style but I’m not going to get into that right now!
The other comfort is that Kayla and I have been together again since she’s come home. I helped her rearrange her room and we’ve watched a lot of The Office recently and a couple comedies together. Although we’re very different in personality and have different tastes when it comes to almost everything (clothes, music, ect), we get along very well, and it’s nice to have someone to lean on. We make a good team. And yes, I have been very grateful for having my own room now that she’s returned. Except that I’m directly under her bedroom and Nathan likes to be in Kayla’s room and he does not know how to walk softly, so in the morning it’s like a jack hammer is on above my head while I’m trying to sleep. My mornings have been bizarre as of late.
So anyway, to tie this kinda mash of ramblings together, I’ve kinda been floating through space here, but I’m learning a lot about myself and about my personal needs and personal convictions; I really hope this devastating experience really helps build and shape me into who I’m suppose to be in the future.
Because my story isn’t. over. yet.