Freedom from the Frenzy

I don't know how many times I can get kicked in the teeth and still get back up. I just don't know anymore. I stand up, I dust myself off, and I ask for more. Bring it on! I practically beg to be beaten down and kicked. I want it. I need it. Maybe in some warped way it helps me fuel my own self hatred. If it happens I must deserve it. But no one knows, and frankly no one cares, what part of me dies in the process. If I keep doing this - I won't be the same person when it's over. I'll be a shell, nothing but a shell of a person - who is no longer capable of love, but who simply exists in a void of nothing. Maybe that's what I really want to be - maybe that's why I do what I do. I don't know. But I know I hate the pain. I hate it! I hate it and I want the pain to stop.

I've really fallen hard again. To someone so complex. Not an A, but still complex. In many ways the coping mechanisms are the same. That means I have to be careful. Very careful. I'm already in a dangerously bad spot in my recovery and I can't let myself go further off track. I need to maintain my sense of self. I'm not happy with me at the moment. The past year has been especially hard for me. But perhaps things are looking up. Perhaps the complexities are what I need to help me refocus. Maybe it's all intertwined for a very good reason and outcome. I'll hold on to that possibility for right now.

Yesterday, I asked God to give me a sign. I asked for a sign no one (not even me) could be dumb enough to miss. I wanted to know if there was hope in a particular situation. Well, I think I got my sign. A few small characters in a message and a dream. In my dream, I was in a casket that had no lid, and the person I wanted to know about came and took me out. I will take that as my sign. There is hope I can hold on to. It could be wishful thinking, but my dreams have always held meaning for me. When I'm able to remember them, they usually have purpose. So I'm going to cling to that for now.