the proper way to fill holes

No I am not talking about grouting tile. No way in he*k am I gonna talk about that on this blog. Do I look like I know anything about home improvement? No. Just take out the "me" from "home" and boom, you'll get what this blog is about. ho improvement....

*silence*

Okay. Back to our regularly scheduled programming.

I wrote this last night when I was feeling very emo. So watch out. Grab yo kleenex or skip this one if you wanted to laugh. Srryyy I can't be funny alwayz.

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Why do I fight against being broken open by hard things? Or against faith? Why don't I ask for things that are so clearly in my heart? Why don't I try courage and, like DO the things I know will make me a better person? And not just because God is asking these things of me but because He is all-knowing and He knows my future (all things are present to Him). So of course he's going to ask me to do things that are uncomfortable or weird or hard or don't make sense to me. Because I can't see the whole picture. I don't have that ability because I'm mortal. Whoops. So yeah. I should just trust Him and in Him. And stop dragging my feet. I need to stop dragging them. I can't get anywhere.

I am tired of waiting, and I think waiting is tired of me waiting for it too. I’m sitting by this subway line as it passes me by, and every time the doors open, I want to get on, I would like to leave this platform right now but I stay there, and wait for the next train, and so it goes.

I am tired of filling these holes with things that don’t stick. If I was a floor made of tiles, then I wouldn’t be grouted. Not even close. Because the things that I am using to try and fill up all the gaps, they aren’t working. Things including but not limited to:

• boys
• boys texting back
• boys giving me any attention at all
• music
• tv shows
• driving around late at night by myself and worrying about the future
• social media, likes, follows, reblogs, etc
• mirrors (literal and not-so-literal)

I don’t know what happened, but somewhere along the way, I forgot who I was. This isn’t a one-time thing. It’s recurring. It’s a recurring nightmare and it’s been (literally) keeping me up at night. I’m finally on sleeping pills because the Sunday night would come around, every seven days, that son of a gun, so dang reliable, when you pull the trigger out goes the bullet, and every time I would lie down to rest and then came the thoughts. Thoughts like you are not good enough to be here, you haven’t gotten caught up on a lot of homework assignments, you should be managing your time better, you spend a lot of your time alone these days, you’ll probably be alone for a long time, school is the most important thing in your life, why can’t you figure out how to date guys? why don’t guys ever want to date you? is something wrong with you? you’d probably be a catch! but...you’re alone. you’re still alone but you have school at least. your family and friends aren’t here but you are, for some reason you are here and it’s driving you insane, why, why here? remember when you’d drive home late at night and cry because you felt too much?

I have decided to be ballsier, and I mean that in every aspect of life. I can’t be waiting for this train anymore, this perfect, proverbial, temperature-controlled subway car to take me to the perfect place away from here. I am going to get on the next time it stops. The next time the door opens I am leaving this platform because yesterday, today, tomorrow, it’s all the same to the one who’s in charge. He’s in charge of me. He cares about me. Tonight I knelt down and I laid my head on the bed like a child lays in its mother’s lap. And I cried out. I said, “What do you want? What do you want?” And He answered back, very clearly, very quietly, but quickly: “What do you want?”

Things that would probably fill up these holes:

• the scriptures
• praying more
• being in the temple
• asking for the things I want the most but cannot ask out of fear, or something else gnawing at me--having faith

Some people get in car accidents. They barely survive, and then they get prayed back to life. Miracles. And it wasn’t so much to prove that they could do it, but that God could work miracles. He wants us to pray for those things. Not all of us get in car accidents. Some of us get in life accidents. Like depression or anxiety or crushing inadequacy or loneliness or searing doubt, the kind that burns you so badly you’re not sure you’ll come out the other end whole again. But that’s the whole point. Faith is hard. It kind of turns you inside out. It shakes things up in your life a little bit, usually a lot. It doesn’t make sense all the time, because it has a lot do with “future you,” the person you’re working towards, the person Heavenly Father sees and is wanting for you. “Yeah, I know you want this, but what’s coming next is best.” See, for me, I think he just wants me to try something. Get on the train sometime. If it’s not right for you, get off at the next station. We’ll get there.

I am tired of these holes. I am tired of being a sponge, I am not meant to be porous, I have too many tears coming out of me to sustain this way of life. There is only one fix for this.

2 Nephi 31:21