Nightmares

I have very vague memories of a night, must have been a year or so ago; details of the nightmare are lost in the time that has passed since. I only remember that I couldn't scream. I was terrified, and I needed help, but I couldn't scream.

Eventually I managed a squeak; a small sound of distress, all I was capable of at the time; and he was there. We so rarely spent the night together, but he was there that night. He comforted me, and told me everything was going to be ok. A tiny noise, heard and recognised by the only person who could save me from whatever terrors I was facing.

It could be that this never actually happened. Am I remembering his nightmares as my own? I know I woke him from bad dreams once. Did I concoct it in last night's half-sleeping daze? An invented fiction that brought tears to my eyes, because part of me believes I need to feel guilty? A dream of a memory, brought on by watching Ink and sleeping in an unfamiliar place? I'm not sure. But regardless of the facts, of the history, the truth remains this:

I miss him. And I'm still not used to this new kind of aloneness.

Falling apart

Yes, hello, sorry. I need help. Um. Badly.

As many of you know I've been a Christian my whole life, and it's a huge huge part of who I am. But for the past year or so I've been feeling hugely distant from God. I lived in Plymouth for a year and I didn't really know anyone; I spent a lot of time alone, didn't go to church regularly. I'm so much happier in Cardiff but the root problem hasn't gone away like I hoped it would...

The reason I'm asking for help now is that it's affecting me more and more. I cry every day (literally EVERY DAY), I just can't seem to get things together. I've been rubbish at just getting stuff DONE. There's loads of phone calls to make and emails to send and an essay to write and a flat that needs tidying and people to get back in touch with... and I don't feel able to do any of it. I feel like my support's been cut out from under me. God kept me going through all the hardest times in my life, so to have that gone leaves me with no coping mechanism. I could go all hard and cold and keep the pain out by building a wall around my heart but I don't want to, I really don't want to!

Even today I was on a bike ride and I got off and walked because I felt like I didn't deserve to have it easy. I decided I was pretty much the crappest person alive and that God could never love me, that nobody could ever love me. Then when we reached a main road I considered just not hitting the brakes and seeing if getting hit by a car would help.

Yeah, I told you I was in a pretty bad way...

Don't worry, I'm not suicidal. Never have been. I just wondered if getting bashed up and waking up in hospital would make things better.

I've tried to tell people about how I'm feeling. My boyfriend has been an absolute pillar of strength, but it can't just be on him. I'm planning to go see TyTe as well; and I've emailed a Christian counselling service in the area, and I'll be going home soon...

Thanks for reading this far, if you did, and if you didn't you won't know that I'm calling you a smelly bumhole.