an overview of my existence

Normal "Christians" don't get me.

People who don't believe don't get me.

I would say I'm stuck in the middle, but that makes me think of a dazed squirrel in the middle of the road about to get smushed because it can't decide which way to run.

So the verdict is in: I'm Nowhere.

And everywhere. My mind is all over the place.

I love God, but not religion. I have compassion for other people, but it would take pulling all of my teeth, slowly and painfully, to get me to go to church and hang out with other believers. My life is squeaky-clean, but only because I have been plucked off of my path, corrected, taught, chastised, instructed, protected, guided, encouraged, blessed, and washed in His blood.

My life has been messy, and although no evidence remains (unless I tell you, which I will and do, compulsively), it has left a mark on my mind.

Some say I suffer from low self-esteem. I say I have been humbled and I think it's better to slink along the bottom than pretend to be something I'm not.

Someone once said that I have "intimacy issues". No, the truth is, WHY would I want to let you get close to me? What's in it for me? More pain? Where do I sign? And, what if I'm looking out for your best interest by denying access to the inner realm of my head?

I'm more conflicted than a checker board, more divided than a cookie on a playground. Oh and I'm filled to the brim with bad analogies. My sister used to make fun of them, so over the years it's grown into a thing. Now I find myself making them up just to see how bad they can really be.

More about me, just so you know:

I was raised Catholic, but that's just because my parents had us in private school 'cause we lived in Oak Cliff. I became a Christian at the age of 17, my mom witnessed to me. Seems a friend of hers told her all about Christ one day, and she became a believer. Until this point I never knew anything about God.


I became pregnant at 20, married at 21, divorced at 27, and have been struggling ever since. I am an artist, although a non-practicing one. Too much in my head that cannot be expressed through paint. I'm telling you, blogging is better than the best of therapists. I started several months ago and have not shut up since.

I have so much to say.