There are ways of being viewed that can make one feel isolated. Right now, it is knowing that I gained a reputation as the “slacker/pseudo-catholic”. I’m trying, though, trying isn’t enough anymore due to that people are tired of hearing the same reasons.
“I vomited most of the night.”
“I’m sick, again.”
I tried finding comfort in Scripture, but what I found was beyond isolating. The overwhelming feeling–the proof in words–that am being told I don’t belong. The proof that said what has held everything together was just a fabrication of my lonely head; all the times I thought I felt reassured, answered, directed, and told that I felt worthwhile was lonely lie.
Reading, reading, and rereading didn’t alter my being a catholic or my views. No, it dowsed the little light, hope and strength, and told me every memory that made up that light was false. Every memory of a voice saying words of love and protection; messages and answers found in everyday things; and every shred of that precious connection I thought was my gift was false.
If I believed that of all beings, I would survive one more day thinking He believed in me in the way I so desperately wanted someone to, that I would survive knowing I was never without someone who knew every part of me yet would still respond to me and help me believe that I was loved.
In everything I have read I have found words that have pushed me beyond panic and into a state of shocked hollowness. Those words told me that I was the Fool, and now? That connection, that knowing I will always find peace and answers, is gone.
[ Flight Of The Recently Departed
Jeannie Lynn Paske
watercolor, charcoal, pastel and ink