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Thanks for visiting my diary. I've been journaling since 1984 and have chosen to share some of my entries online. They are not all positive thoughts, but I hope that reading them might be a blessing to someone who needs encouragement.
If you are just coming to my diary for the first time, please read my introductory entry, where I share some background that is important if you plan to follow this diary regularly.
Please also visit my music page, where you can hear samples from my debut CD, I Believe, which features songs written based on experiences shared in this journal.
I've become increasingly dissatisfied with my life over the years. I wonder how long this can continue. There are days when I feel like happiness is something I could reach out and grasp or at least that it is something God might give to me. But most days I don't seem to feel like that. When I was a child, one of my good qualities was considered to be that I could sit and play with the same toy for hours. I am still that way to quite a degree. I can tolerate the same activity for hours on end. I don't put up much of a fuss about not being very active, don't ask to go many places or be entertained by others. But I am so very unhappy and lonely. Oh, I have plenty of friends, but the loneliness never leaves. What is wrong with me? Is this emptiness really just some sign that I'm not close enough to God? Will I ever be close enough? I thought I was open to Him. I thought I loved Him, wanted to hear from Him. But if that was true, then I would hear and this emptiness would leave me.
I have always said that suicide is not an option for me. But I wanted a lot more out of my life by this age than I have, and I can't see it ever going anywhere from here. I wanted to be 90 years old and have a kitchen full of pies and bread and great- grandchildren playing in the floor. I am almost 30 and have no children. I didn't want to be an old grandmother. But I doubt I will ever even have a child.
I wanted to have a steady income and just a little place of my own with a bit of money available to share with others who need it. Instead I am the one in need, sitting at my parents' house like some bump on a log. I have plenty of time for writing but no motivation. Here I am, enrolled in the last two courses for my degree, and I don't even care. Why? Because the degree means nothing. I picked the wrong major. I picked it because I was so tired of school and of struggling. It won't get me into any area of interest, and my grades are very poor for going on to further study.
Yes, I'm being negative today. Maybe I like it that way. I don't know any more. All I know is I hurt and I just wish somebody would hold me for a long time. But that isn't going to happen either, so I may as well give up on it. Get a grip and go on. That's all I can do unless I choose that ugly thing called suicide, and I'm not doing that. But there is no healing for any of this.
People aren't going to want to be around me if I'm unhappy all the time. So since that's my nature, then I should just pretend to be happy. Maybe then something amazing will happen, like I'll start meeting and enjoying people. Then maybe the pain will go away. Then maybe there will be healing for me, whatever that is. Oh, yeah, I hear you, whoever you are, reminding me of what I wrote the other day. Well, right now I don't think God wants me to be happy. I knew that moment of faith wouldn't last. I just hope that somehow I'm wrong and He's there and will keep me from drowning in this pain. But the voices tell me that it isn't His responsibility, that I created it for myself and I'll have to dig myself out if I'm ever to get out. And they laugh.
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