Sunday, January 16, 2011

Silent Screams

Kind of sounds contradicting doesn't it? How can a scream be silent? Screams are loud and usually make people's heads turn towards the one screaming. But I feel like I am screaming inside but yet am silent through it all.


It is only because it is my fault. I am not telling anyone. I am not letting anyone in. I feel guilty for feeling the pain and the hurt and frustration that I do when I watch so many around me suffer through harder things then the petty shit on my brain. I feel guilty for wanting to cry and run and scream. My life is blessed so what the hell is my problem? I feel like an ungrateful person. I feel like a forgotten daughter. I feel like a failure.

I have been absolutely blessed with this fifth pregnancy. A pregnancy that is in fact keeping me on my toes but a blessing none the less. A baby that is now at 16 weeks 4 days gestation age. A baby that I have longed to be pregnant with. A baby that I am starting to feel move. I have longed to feel those things again. Through my pain and my anger back in September God had still decided that bless me with this baby. To bless my family with this baby. I don't DARE ask why me for fear it might be taken away out of punishment. I am told though that our God is not like that. Yet here I sit silently in tears. Silently screaming at the top of my lungs. Gasping for breath so that I can bring one more scream out. Yet I don't do it. I silently let it build. I don't let anyone in, not even God. Would He really want to hear the same crap from me? Would He deem me ungrateful and punish me and make me pay?

The last week or so I have silently been trying to battle my depression. There are good days and bad days of course. I almost wonder with the increasingly different changes with my hormones, if maybe my mind can't hang on to the balance anymore. I don't want to increase my meds. So I silently battle.

Today at church I sat by myself. Running on four and a half hours of sleep I fought the tears. Hearing the pain that my pastor is going through with his family. Hearing the pain that a very special church family is going through. All the while thinking that I really don't deserve to be upset. Yet, I cry. I struggle.

I felt like I couldn't even sing the songs. As I would be nothing but a fake. Where is this God, this Father that I knew loved me. Why don't I feel that anymore? Why do I feel like He is no where to be heard or seen. Why do I feel like if I admit this out loud my baby would be snatched from within my womb because I don't believe. I DO really believe but I fight.

Our wonderful pastor ended the service saying a couple things. Some of the things he said were, "God loves you." "God is proud of you." I bawled. I dropped my head in tears. I sat silently screaming and feeling like no one gave a shit. Everyone walked past me and around me. I couldn't feel God although I cried out to Him. Proud of ME? He loves ME? Why? When all I feel like I am doing is being ungrateful. I feel like I am at a breaking point again and I don't like it. I feel like the dark is ever so slowly engulfing me again. I fight as best I can but what good is a fight if no one is there to battle with you? I tell my husband I am tired because I just don't want to worry him or my son. So I silently fight.

During coffee time a dear friend passed me, rubbed my shoulder and said hi. It was all I could do to put on a fake smile and say hi back. I couldn't say hi so I just smiled. Then another dear friend approached me and I put on the act. I put on the laughs and the smiles saying I was great. Saying the baby was good. Yet inside I was stomping my feet and screaming. Yet on the outside I successfully was able to wear my mask again. I looked at her and her eyes pierced in to me and I knew I had to tell her. I had to tell someone. So I just said, "honestly, I am struggling with the depression, so yeah....but it will be fine." Sure, it WILL be fine. But damn it Misty, you have to let people in to fight with you. Yet I won't do it because there are so many other people hurting. So I fight silently.

Sitting there at the end of service while the tears flowed I dropped to my knees just listening to the music. Not daring to get up and ask for prayer. I cried alone. Surrounded by the dark. Surrounded by laughter and people mingling but all I could think was, "suck it up Misty. Put on your big girl panties and wear the mask." So I sat back down and wiped my tears. Breathed a big sigh, got up put on my coat and did what I do best. I ran away. There are a few I want to reach to because they know this dark ugly path I have been on. Maybe just maybe they would care. But I don't even give them the benefit of doubt and I know that this is something I have to walk through on my own. I feel selfish. I feel pathetic. I let the tears fall briefly as I type and each one that drops upon my ever growing belly is like letting out a scream of relief. Then I feel the guilt wash over me again. I should be happy. I am happy. So why do I silently sit here screaming and fighting the darkness that is oh so familiar at this point.

Screaming silently but wanting to secretly let people in.


The dark engulfs me and
starts to entangle me in it's
thick, familiar web.
The voice of light seems to
be so distant at this point that
even though I can feel it's
warmth and see it's brightness
I see it getting smaller
and smaller.
I stand wanting to stomp my
feet and cry like a child.
I scream but no sound
can escape my soul.
So I stand there, silently
screaming and putting on a smile
so that no one will know.
God knows yet I won't let
Him in enough so that we
can fight the dark together.
No, I can do this on my
own, even though I know
that I am clearly not supposed to.
The road that has been
so familiar for me in the past
is beckoning for me to come
along it and walk it again.
To turn around, walk down
it's dark and lonely fear
gripping, bumpy surface.
I stand in one spot screaming
from within not knowing
where to turn and what to do.
I am reaching out my hand
to feel Daddy take my own
but where is it?
I can't find it's familiar
warmth and strength.
So as the dark pulls in around
me I stand not knowing what
to do and silently screaming
for help.
Hoping that somewhere, He
will hear me and care. That
someone will care.
Not out of sympathy, but because
they love me and have
walked it with me before.
But for now my throat tightens,
my teeth clench and
my body wretches within.
I put on the mask, wear the
happy face and take another
step, refusing to let the
dark win.
It is all I can do.


Radlife said...

Joyce Meyer said thateven in our darkest hour we should be praising God and that puts egg on the devils face. I know it's easier said than done but never let the enemy win. Say "God loves me" out loud as a mantra.
God Bless you

Radlife said...

What is the name of your church, I can't remember or find the web page anymore.

Miss-buggy said...

I actually attend a different church then the one you might remember. I attend The Bridge Church.

it is easier said then done. My brain is just empty. I know in my heart what I should be doing but when it feels like He isn't there you just feel darkness. The depression will work it's way out eventually. I just have to open back my mind when I can.

I love the new church. Very real people, people who are willing to take time for you. People who are willing to go through the shit to get to the heart. I feel very very blessed by this church.

Miss-buggy said...

do you still have a blog radlife? It has been a while hey. I forget your name. Hope you are doing well!