Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Why Do You Push Me and Laugh

I hurts so much.

When I try, when I reach out, when I am needing help, when I try to talk, when I ask,

Why Do You Push Me, and laugh?

It is not funny to me. It hurts.

I know I am not always stable, not always right in the head. It is not by choice.
You say I don't handle stress, but you don't do anything to alleviate my stress. You act like you have the answers, like you understand what is happening, like you have adjusted, like you are normal, like you care. You even say at times, "I love you." And that is nice to hear, because I believe.

But when I call you, when I talk to you, when I am seeking help or need a change or to get on track or to move one step away from the edge or to make progress or to make life better...

You PUSH me... you rattle on with jokes and laughter, it's a game, you twist my words and laugh. You make up riddles, jokes and play on words. You wont get serious; you don't take me seriously. Around, and around, and around we go. Poking, laughing, questioning, laughing, telling and laughing.... anything to beat around the mulberry bush and never address the point of why I asked to talk.

So, I coil in, steaming for a blow up. I cry, get angry, force myself to walk away. I wail, talk to myself, want to run, want to be put away, want it all to end. This is not how I want to live, no one would want to be treated this way... and I am especially fragile, still.... and no matter how many times we have repeated this ACT in our 'play of life' .... we don't ever rewrite the script.

One person can't change a whole cast.

I try to take a different part, to be under control, to be regulated, to be stable, to be kind, to not raise my voice, to not nag, to interact in positive ways, to listen and to talk, to encourage and help, to take and respond when you need something or to go somewhere....

And when you dream, I focus and listen and try to imagine your dreams being real with you... and do what I can to make them so.... I want you to embrace who you are, and to be and to have and to know.....

But whenever I start getting overloaded, when things pile up, are left out, spilling over, lying around, I aim to tackle what needs to be done. I work as best as I can. I pick, I pull, I put, I load, I place, I call, I write, I run, I answer, I deliver, I get, I fix, ..... and then it happens. I weaken... I tire... I can't keep up and I think.... oh why do I ever think ...  "I will just ask, that's it. We just need to talk about it, surely if they knew, surely if I shared, surely if only I told what my needs were, that I needed help, that I needed everyone to do their part, that I needed someone to work, to give, to be unselfish, to lift a finger not in their own personal luxury or delight or benefit, they would listen, receive, understand and respond in a caring way. They would help.

BUT, No....

I am poked, prodded, and make fun off. It is all one big game, a time to laugh, a time for me to cry... and I don't understand how to stop the program once it gets started. I try to change the channel, to redirect, to correct... and the volume is turned up to cover up my muttering.... and it goes in a never ending circuit... never ending that is until I give up, blow up, cut it with abruptness or anger or tears or defeated wails or confusion spiraling out like a small spinning top losing its ability to stay upright and keep everything going....

I know I am at the edge, I am looking in on the scene, I try to step out, to assess to figure out what I can do, But I am at the point I feel I am slipping. I speak, I ask, I implore, I reach out needing someone to take me serious and to grab onto my hand to keep me from falling.... And then the worst of worse happens, instead of a loving hand reaching out, I am pushed, and pushed, and pushed and pushed. A little more, a little deeper, a little harder, never letting up so I can regain my steadiness... no, the ground starts to loosen as the bits and pieces of my gounding in reality begins to crumble... it rolls from under my feet. I feel my feet teetering on the point between soundness and craziness....

I look up, I look out, I look into your faces .... hoping, longing, seeking, reaching... but in the foolishness of the game, you don't notice how close I am to the edge... you never seem to notice.... I try not to scream or raise my voice, I remember you telling me over and over you don't like when I do that, so I work so hard to keep what is pressuring up inside without giving air to the thoughts and words pushing up from within.

And as the pushing continues I know I am falling, it is to late, I can't contain my position in calmness, in maturity. I can no longer be the stability I should be.... no rope to grab, no safety net below, no tools to use to stop the accelerated fall....... down, down, down, twisted, dark, deep, pain, suffering, loss, sorrow, tears, cries, losing, failure, stupid, again, too far now, I can't be stopped... I can't roll the tape backwards, I can't undo what is being done, I can't even pause. Because I have already hit the ledge below and now I slip and keep rolling deeper, sliding faster, and the thoughts and words full me up - confused, painful, suffering accusations, utter rambling thoughts, raw, cutting, real, and I don't like what I hear but my mouth wont stop. If feels as though it can't like a balloon popped and letting the air out rapidly.

And deep withing comes the stored up suffering, the thoughts, the words, the frustration, the confusion, the expressions so cutting, so slicingly true. I cry, I wail, I grieve for what could have been or should have been or might have been.....

And I don't know how to make it right. So it stays a broken scarred mess... I want to stop this.

I want to never go this way again.

I am very, very, very tired of ending up at the bottom of my world.... cut up, painfully suffering. And I think about the hurt I probably have caused... how can it ever repair, when will this ever stop...

And in silence, we re-assume our roles ... ACT I is about to begin again please take your positions.... everyone quietly does what ever they want to do, no one talks about what happen, no one works through it, no one examines the script to edit the scene and make certain the exact same scenario happen again. No silence, avoidance, and distance is the response.

Maybe they don't think it can be any other way. Maybe it is too hard to even try. Maybe the door seems to have closed, and it is too frightening to peer it open again. Who in their right mind would want to go back there again? The pressure seemed to have been released and everyone can pretend for a while again that everything is OK.... yes, we area all OK... And for many, for others it seems, OK is all they need or want or can deal with.

But I never want to live OK, I don't just want to survive, to simply make it no matter what.

And it is this friction the causes the resistance, the rub, the clash.... that will wait until all is full once again then the pressure builds to overflowing. Then I dare to try, to address, to examine what went wrong, knowing that I am back close to the end, weighted down, tired, and vulnerable....

God, Jesus, Holy Spirit, I NEED YOUR help. Is it that they can't do anything to help? Is it that I forgot to ask You directly instead of them? I am so forgetful and weak. When will I ever learn? Please help me, hold me together, help me to take another step with HOPE in knowing only YOU are able to reach out and grip my hand to keep me from fall all the way down into hopelessness, sorrow, suffering, pity and shame. Forgive me Father, I am so sorry. I need you. Never let me go. I believe in YOU!

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