My peacefulness has left. It is elusive. And I need it back desperately. My demons are out to haunt me tonight. It started a little earlier today and I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.
Sometimes they'll show up out of no where, like a migraine. Then other times there's something that tips 'em off...also like migraines. This one was tipped. Tripped. Flipped. Whatever. It's here and it's taunting me.
I hate it and I can't get away. It will riddle my life with hate and rage and questions and fear and memories for as long as it likes, and then just like that-- it will be gone again. I used to just crumble under the stress of it. The crumbling has faded away for the most part, and it is usually replaced with a stronger me who can stare it in the eye and refuse to let it take hold. But tonight is different. Tonight I just feel plain and weak and tired of it all.
My comfort in retreating has returned.
I can stay up all night tonight and pray and plead with God to take them away. I know that he hears me and I don't think that he's ignoring me. We talk of these frequently so he knows these struggles well. But my peace and resolve are so far frayed that my prayers are more frantic than they are fruitful. This makes me sad.
I attempt to offset their effect by my outward actions and how I carry myself and present myself to the world. I am determined that if I continue to live and enjoy a happy, meaningful Christ-filled life that one day these demons will realize that they are wasting their time on me. There's no place in my life for them, so move along already. But until this happens I feel torn. I feel like a fake, a phony, a fraud. Because I so frustratingly want to live outwardly how I'm feeling inside, but at times, especially like this, I can't. I won't. It's icky. It's not that I feel like I need to hide it. I just don't want to bring anyone else down with me.
So, here's to new days, and a new day for me starts in about an hour.