To New Beginnings

7-10-13     1:45pm

SAMSUNG

It’s official. I got my driver’s license. What a trip. Exhausting. I’m sitting now in the quiet of our mechanic’s waiting room, letting myself settle to the ticks of a clock. (Eyes closed…) In here it is cool. I can begin to relax.

I believe that I failed my driving test. God passed for me. Praise God I had a nice examiner. I almost hit a truck and had to try backing up 3 times. I was terrified, fighting to stay in the moment and ignore or combat the automatic negative thoughts and keep driving through the flashbacks.

When we pulled in I was shaking, fighting off tears. I didn’t believe her when she said I passed. All she said was, “Ok.” Odd. I held it together long enough to get through the line and to the bathroom to cry. These voices were screaming in my head, “You FAILED. AGAIN. You are NOTHING. I hate you! I hate you! I hate you! You’re right back where you started. DIE!” I pulled myself together enough to go out to Mom and then lost it again. I was crying so hard. All the stress from this month all came out in tears and sobs. She held me, pouring out reassurance about driving, which had nothing to do with my crying. It was nice just me and her. I finally calmed down after some Jamba Juice. Now I’m exhausted.

I didn’t expect that reaction. I couldn’t forsee, nor would I want to. It helped a lot that I went to the gym this morning and wore my new outfit. I had a pep talk with God, felt empowered. I met my goal today – to take the drive test. I faced one of my demons. I didn’t back down. I did it. I just happen to have gotten a license in the process.

(deep quiet breaths…)

To new beginnings.
To spiral journals.
To taking back ME.
Life. Me.
To new beginnings.
To starting over.
To cleaning house.
To owning my behavior.
To God.
To love.
To faith.
To life transparency.
To me.

To new beginnings.
Cheerio. ~

© Michelle Routhieaux 2013

Being set free

6-14-13     10:36am

I woke up today feeling good. God is moving me quickly in a new direction. I’m not sure toward what but I am following as best I can, sometimes running to catch up. The past week has been bad, complete with temporary paralysis, aphasia and severe SI. But right now, in the moment, I feel good. I see color today. I am taking my mom to join my gym. I’m hoping we can spend some time working out together on our shared goal of getting healthier and losing weight. It will help to have something in common.

I’m moving forward in my room. I bought new wall art, a butterfly shower curtain I had intended for the bathroom but will work perfectly for the closet, and started condensing boxes in my closet and garage. I have a vision of a new white full bed and new mattress covered beautifully in the comforter and sheet set I had at USC. A regal safe place to lie my head. I want to build a home for myself. The hospital is the only place that has ever felt safe and I consider it my home. But it’s changing and I’m changing and I need my own safe place.

I stopped BrainPaint on Monday. My mom turned 65. My psychiatrist is going on vacation. We’re battling my insurance to get one of my meds. I have new neighbors. That is a trip. More about that later. Our house is infested with brown widow spiders. I’m not hungry anymore. I’m really spacey and I can’t remember anything. But in this moment I’m happy. I started doing GRAPES again last week. Today my E goal is to do 5 minutes on a machine at the gym. I don’t want to but I did get dressed. I am floating through my day. I feel the happy wearing into confused.

I’m scared to go to Dizzy’s. It doesn’t make any sense. I haven’t been going to jazz things in forever and I’m afraid C will be mad at me. I feel ashamed that I forgot, afraid I’ve been replaced. A friend pointed out a few weeks ago that since I got out of the hospital I haven’t gone back to my life. I guess not. Another jazz friend wanted to know where the fuck I’ve been and if I’m ok. A valid query. I didn’t tell him I forgot. Until he confronted me I had no idea I wasn’t going to jazz. I had no memory. I don’t remember what I was doing and when I do I don’t care or get scared. My slate has been wiped clean – without the use of ECT. ;) I do remember praying for a release from all of the pressure and stress and things I was tied into. I guess this is it. It does feel freeing to have no idea what’s going on. (stare…) I don’t know what day or month it is and I don’t care. I forget what time it is. I forget to take my meds. Not good. I forget to eat. I don’t know where I’m going. I miss deadlines and appointments. Usually this would upset me but I don’t really care. It takes a lot to get me agitated these days. It’s like BrainPaint erased that response. I like it. Except when I need to feel upset and I simply feel nothing. Either way, I’m moving forward.

I feel like I’m being moved by God’s current down the river that is my life. It is moving so fast that I can’t see the shore. I close my eyes and feel myself move. He carries me. He brings me through the rapids, over the falls and safely to shore. I just have to let go. I put my arms out. I am free. I hear this song a lot. I am a child of the one true king. :) I have nightmares that tell me different, that scare me. They’re not me. I’m being set free.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2013

God Bless the Queen

“I have a message for you. You deserve the best.
Don’t settle for anything less.”
– Pastor

purple flower

Something weird happened to me in church today. I usually greet Pastor after the service but I was talking with someone so I hugged him when he walked by. I said, “It’s nice to see you.” He placed his hand firmly on my shoulder, looked me square in the eye and said, “I have a message for you.” I said, “Okay.” He continued, “You deserve the best. Don’t settle for anything less.” I said, “Okay…” And he turned and walked away. (???) I know God was speaking through him but I’m not sure why.

I asked Diane later why everyone was crying today and she said, “Because Pastor has liver cancer.” I said, “I know. But he had cancer last week too.” And he’ll have it next week as well. She said folks are realizing the mortality of the pastor, a mortality I’m well aware involves family for them. I feel no emotional attachment to the issue. I guess it could be considered rude. I feel it is a calling.

I joined the choir of this church in February, maybe March. God told me to and I listened. I wasn’t sure why. I’m not particularly fond of the music, though it’s beautiful, and the closeness of the people frightens me. But I know I am supposed to be there and I like it. I am learning to love hymns and to socialize with people. There’s something I haven’t told them. I don’t understand it fully but I know why I’m here.

The pastor is going to die. Maybe 10 years from now, maybe tomorrow. But he is. I felt it my first day there and it hasn’t gone away. By nature in new situations I look for a system, a pattern of operation. I want to know how things work and where I fit in. I need to know the rules, the standard operations, where they keep the toilet paper and which row I’m supposed to sit in. I look for areas of need and devise systems to improve them. Here my ideas aren’t warmly welcomed. I realize I’m on someone else’s turf and I need to back down. But I’m here for a reason.

When Diane got in her car accident there were angels with her. And they were in the church when she returned, and they were with the pastor. A heavy presence centers the ground, prepares it for his message. He glows gold. He knows he is dying. I know that we all are. I feel a purpose for me in this transition but I’m not sure that it’s welcome. When I look around, I see areas of change, things that can be improved. I have ideas. They are not ready yet. I am careful not to mention my ideas much. They are seen as an intrusion on established customs. They do it their way. If this were DBSA, I’d be -. I hate -. -‘s always wantin’ to change things. I like them my way. But sometimes her way is better. In this case, it doesn’t matter whose way things get done as long as they get done.

My mom says I’m cold for caring more about the logistics than the emotions of the people. Yes. I guess I’m cold. It doesn’t mean I don’t care. I care deeply for these people. Deeply enough to fight for growth and change, to pick up where some upset person left off, to continue the business of a church when its people are in mourning. The pastor is going to die. I don’t feel sad about that. I feel a little joy. This man who is so close to God will get to meet Him. And what a lovely meeting it will be. My soul smiles when I think of it.

I know I don’t have the normal social reactions most people do. I think God blessed me with my coldness for a reason. I just want to help. I don’t process things the way others do. It is a blessing and a curse. One of my providers thinks I have Asperger’s (high functioning autism). At first I was totally against the idea. Change. Fucking change. But the more I look into it, I agree. I need to talk it over with my other providers. In this situation it allows me to be functional with a lack of emotion, but I can’t understand what’s going on because it’s not happening to me. I don’t think like that. I plan. I live by systems and order. I expect tragedy. I live.

All this to say, God spoke to me through the pastor today and I’m not sure what it means. But I’m pretty sure it’s important. God bless the queen.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2013

Benefits of Pain

4/10/13     9:35am

  • Forces me to slow down, to be mindful of each thing I do
  • Refocuses my attention on God
  • Shows me what is and isn’t important
  • Humbles me
  • Makes me greatly appreciate the little things when they come back
  • Gives me permission to take care of ME
  • Allows me a space to heal
  • Reminds me this is His plan, not mine
  • Increases my empathy towards others
  • Purifies me
  • Reminds me of all my blessings
  • Shows me how frail I really am
  • Causes me to seek help
  • Causes me to want to apologize & forgive
  • Breaks down my walls/barriers/facade
  • Lets me cry
  • Takes my focus off of thoughts & feelings
  • Gives me new perspectives

I am thankful for pain.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2013

I am so blessed

1-13-13     6:55pm

I am so blessed. I taught dance for the first time today in about ten years. It felt SO good. It was ME. By chance I met a little girl who wanted to dance and her mom said it’s okay. She’s about 7. I didn’t ask. I bought her some tap shoes and brought my pink duct tape. She wanted to tape her headband to her hair. Lol. Her favorite color is pink like mine and I had a blast. We jumped up and down and walked like ducks and cartwheeled and ran around and still made progress. She is so sweet. I feel like me.

I didn’t want to go today. I was so down and discouraged. And I was afraid I would get in trouble for teaching in the back of an existing class. I organized papers and sat on my bed and stared. Literally all day. I was so cold that my fingers and toes were numb. Just be. But I put myself together to go and I’m so glad I did. I had a blast and the teacher wasn’t angry but surprised and delighted to have the option of having kids learn there too. I’ve never been much one to teach kids but I can adapt.

I have my own odd way of teaching. More quirky than odd. I use shapes and movement and chairs and build things up backwards. And it works. If you stick with it. I’m grateful to have the opportunity to find myself through teaching this little girl, even if only for today. I love dancing. And dancing loves me. (sigh) I am so blessed.

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© Michelle Routhieaux 2013

Janet was my friend

12/29/12     5pm

Dear Jesus,

I don’t know if she believed or not, but I like to believe that Janet is in your arms today. Please bring her all the comfort and peace that she couldn’t find here and introduce her to joy. Thank you for the time you gave me with her. She is an amazing friend. Please be with Chrissy as she deals with this trauma and help me to provide comfort and support to the group. Give me strength to hold everyone up, to maintain my link. Thank you for giving me the resources and fortitude to do this. Thank you for hope.

In your name I pray, Amen.

Janet 2010

Janet hung herself.
I’m going to the donut shop now.
To be with Joe & Chrissy.
(pause)
Janet was my friend.

Chrissy found her.
Janet was my friend.
I saw her on Wednesday. We worked, talked, had dinner.
I knew she was bad.
I didn’t know how close.

Was the cleaning up all part of the plan?
I doubt it.

She hung herself in the bathroom.
The bathroom we just worked on.
With the flowered rug.
And the Tinkerbell towels.

Janet was my friend.

We went to Noodles & Company after.
She bought me food. We talked.
She laughed.

I met Janet in 2004 in Henry’s group when she was living with her family in Borrego and getting ECT. She was a wreck, but she helped me. She would walk me through guided imagery. We talked on the phone hours a day. She jumped out of a car on the freeway, ran away. Her parents screamed at me. So much drama. But she was my friend.

I couldn’t tolerate her anymore and was glad she disappeared. I hadn’t seen her in years when she showed up at DBSA. I heard of a Janet and prayed it wasn’t her, but it was. I was scared it would be the same drama with her parents and Fidaleo and 17 drugs. But it wasn’t. She was different.

The crippling depression Janet experienced while at DBSA was a vast improvement from when I met her. She had skills, sometimes hope, and a desire for a good life. She lived on her own or with a roommate, drove a car, fed her cats. Those cats were her family, her reasons for living. And the whole month of Halloween.

Janet was a broken little girl living the devil’s fairy tale. With a body that wouldn’t die. But I guess enough is enough sometimes. Her body & mind were weary. It was time to let go.

I can’t imagine her believing it would work. One last try out of desperation. Care for the cats and care for myself. I don’t blame her. She endured years of torture, loneliness and pain. The people she wanted love from the most were mean to her. She had nothing left in the reserve. No doctor, dwindling meds, persistent severe depression. She had her note cards and her kitties and her best friend. She fought the good fight and now it’s over.

Janet was my friend.

I find myself grappling now with the what if and why questions. The words that have no answers. The words that need no response.

I’m going to the donut shop.
Janet was my friend.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2012

Jesus Loves Me

12/4/12     8:15pm

Dear God,

THANK YOU!

I am waiting for the trolley. I feel joy. I breathe in the cool night air. I breathe. I breathe… I feel calm. I listen intently to crickets and the sound of car tires over rail tracks and the wind. German discussions drift…

My hair blows softly over my face.
I’m free.

I’M FREE! (sigh)

I can’t explain the joy sitting here brings me. Folding laundry. Listening instead of just hearing. The deep appreciation of rising from the ashes, of being released from pain. I see colors. I taste. I feel God again.

19 days of pain have led to this beauty. I am set free. I savor the feeling. I know it is just for a time but this time is mine.

(break to talk with Ringo on the trolley)

(zap) I look forward to projects. I eat colors, swallow time. I am pink and the whole world sings. Of joy, of deliverance, of me. My face smiles without me. I watch. She is beautiful when she’s happy.

This week I realistically contemplated going in. Today I don’t need to. When I see my doctor tomorrow the pain will be a story. I will be able to talk, unlike last time, and to think. I think. Anyway, there is such a difference. Like flipping a switch. I am glad to be on this side.

I could not appreciate gift without loss. Now I take it in, prepare and wait. Rest. Thank you, God. Weepin’ may endure for a night but joy comes in the morning. Amen.

My whole body tingles.
Joy comes in the morning.

(sing Brett Michaels’ song “Joy Comin’.”)

As my muscles being to hurt again, remember this feeling.

I used all my energy today.
Now I’m melting.
At least I can poop.

7          If I can feel such joy on Earth, can you imagine what it’s like in heaven?

FG       I don’t know.
            Probly pretty awesome.

3          Sparkles and unicorns!

13        Dragons & fire.

25        Peace & quiet.

7          And angels.

13        I want to paint the sky with a dance and pour out the rain.

FG       And for things to be okay.

3          Jesus will like my unicorn.

7          And I want to ride a sunset.

3          Jesus loves me.

FG       I know, baby. He does.
            Jesus loves me.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2012

Joy

P1160413-4

12/3/12     1:56am

In writing tonight about sadness and pain I am reminded of joy. I felt such joy singing today. I sang with my choir at a nursing home and for a few moments all of it was gone. God sang through me and I was filled with hope. My director said he’s going to call me Merry now because I’m so joyful. It’s true. Singing brings me such joy, especially gospel. I need to remember and do it more often.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2012P1160408-3

Listening to God

10/28/12     11:36pm

I’ve been listening to God lately. It’s an interesting thing.

I’ve been growing in my faith lately. A lot. It’s strange to me but quite welcome. I’m having a lot of memory problems and other issues so I don’t remember if I told you or not. Last week I watched this sermon online and it struck a chord – Family of Origin Part 5: The Lost Child. I’ve been attending The Rock Church sporadically and hadn’t been in a few weeks so I decided to watch online. It was just what I needed and it talked about something I hadn’t thought about in awhile – the still small voice.

I hear that voice a lot. The still small voice that tells me what to do.  I hear it more lately. No, I think I just trust it more lately. It tells me things and I do what it says. I’m never sure why I’m supposed to do these things or go these places on instruction, but there’s always a reason. I find myself in the right place at the right time, even though it was exactly the wrong place to me and I’m often upset about being there. The voice tells me where to go and what to say and whom to say it to, or not to. It redirects my path when I’m straying in a different direction, creates anxiety when I’m headed away or tells me to stay through the anxiety when I’m not supposed to go. Or to give or to compliment or to pray.

I am at once comforted and confused by this voice. The still small voice of God. I am comforted because I trust it and believe I should do what it tells me. I feel I have a companion, like intuition or a gut instinct that’s always right. But I’m confused and sometimes I doubt. Not because I don’t believe or I think it’s wrong but because doing what voices in my head tell me to hasn’t always turned out alright. It gets really scary sometimes and I end up in dangerous situations or do risky things. Or I give away all my money or run away or in some other way harm myself. I want to listen and obey this voice in my head that sometimes tells me to do things I don’t understand but that don’t seem bad, but I have a hard time trusting that He’s not one of “them.” The them that are out to get me, who tell me things in my head. Who scream at me and haunt me in the night. Who make me believe bad things and hurt myself. How do I know the still small voice is safe?

I guess the answer is that I don’t. I have to take it on faith. It’s just hard trying to tease out mental illness from religion when they’re so closely tied together. When God or experiences with God are such a part of my illness, or what society calls illness, it’s hard to know what’s real. I believe that when I am manic I’m not delusional, just closer to God, more able to experience Him and His presence. Somewhat of a spiritual emergency. When I’m experiencing weird spiritual things I have a choice to categorize them as spiritual experiences or psychiatric symptoms and how I define them determines the course of action. But what I’m hearing lately I don’t consider either. I just hear the voice of God. I listen for it. And I’m surprised because I follow it about 90% of the time.

I’m listening to God. I feel peace. In the midst of chaos and crises and illness, I feel peace and assurance. I seek to raise others up, to show love. I’m becoming a better me. Listening to God, letting Him work through me.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2012

Grateful to breathe

10/16/12     9:54pm

Gosh, life is hard. (deep breath…)

I made food tonight. I’m so proud of myself. On the energy of a Rice Krispie treat I made chicken-flavored rice, popcorn and a few pieces of bacon. I never cook. It terrifies me. But I was hungry tonight and less terrified than usual. I sit here now listening to KLOVE and cry. I feel so alone.

Today was the first day in a very long time when I could rest. I slept in and took a shower and did some errands, at my own pace, on my own time. I tried the tv but settled on silence, then KLOVE. I feel so alone.

I went to Sea World with my boyfriend yesterday. (He prefers I call us “co-persons.” I don’t.) I had a really hard day, some of which was great. I’m having trouble communicating and getting sucked into the Borderline attachment/abandonment vortex. He’s leaving. It’s not that I’m imagining his leaving or that I’m scared that he will or that I did something to make him leave. He’s leaving the area for a traveling job and he doesn’t know if he’s coming back. I don’t want him to go. I feel safe with him. I’m using every skill I know to be honest and open, even when it terrifies me, and I’m astonished to find that he doesn’t hate me. He actually likes me most days.

I feel so alone. I know there is a purpose for this leaving, but I can’t see it right now. And tonight it is quiet and it all covers me. We’ve been playing house this week and I’ve been thinking I’d really like to do that, to play house with someone or on my own… My mom’s coming back from NY soon with her boyfriend and my guy will leave and I guess all will go back to the way it was. But I’ll be different. (crying)

I want to love. I want to have a family. I want not to be lonely. I want to need to cook more than three pieces of bacon. And to feel okay enough not to cry every time there is silence.

I feel close to God lately. He’s not but I pray for him. I know God is doing something in me. I want to use whatever that is for good. Tonight I just cry. I trust Him. I trust Him. I surrender it all. Every day. Every time. (deep breath)

I’m so grateful for the ability to breathe.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2012

Excited to be Alive

9-12-12     6:30pm

I feel excited to be alive.
I prayed earlier to feel the Holy Spirit in me and to be filled with healing. Around 5:30pm something changed. Every cell tingles, sparkles with the love of God. I feel excited to be alive. Not just alive, which I rarely feel. I feel happy and connected and free.

(big sigh)

I could float up in the sky…
I feel happy. I feel free. 

I don’t feel manic or depressed or paranoid. My head does hurt. I sing. I want to be alive. I want God to work through me for His good. I want to be.

I’ve believed in God all my life, but today I feel God. I don’t ever want it to go away. I raise my hands and twirl and sing and pray. I’m so thankful. And to think it started with a healing card. ;)

© Michelle Routhieaux 2012

Polka Dots & Puppy Dogs

2-27-12     12am

I’m sitting in my living room working on my friend’s MacBook Pro, with which I am falling in love. We are helping my mom with an aptitude test online and I can faintly hear the radio coming from my room.

I haven’t journaled in some time. I’m afraid to open the book. And when I do I just draw. I drew a picture today of my feelings. It was a bit weird. I send bizarre emails to my therapist and have started walking in circles talking to myself again. There is simply too much going on in my life. But my friend’s boyfriend fixed my wifi so I can work from the couch. I also love her dog. Quite helpful. And my cat is readjusting to life with a dog in the house.

I know I haven’t blogged in forever. I’m sorry. There just hasn’t been anything I can really say online. I’ve been having a lot of really intense symptoms mental health wise and some nasty body symptoms as well. My body is just freakin’ out and they finally found something wrong with me. But not something definitive. They’re slowly trying to figure out what’s going on with my neck/throat. I’m having trouble swallowing and throwing up and choking. The muscles connected to my larynx are popping and it hurts to sing. And apparently I have a nodule on my thyroid. So I went for a barium swallowing test and upper GI series and will have a biopsy of the nodule. I don’t really care what comes of it. I just need it to be over.

I just finished helping teach a clogging class at an elementary school. I had so much fun. It was physically more than I could really handle, but I loved the kids and having a reason to be out of my house. I also started bowling again. I didn’t go this week but I really like it. And the bowling alley cafe has awesome food.

My mom’s looking for a job. I’m trying to make meaning of my life. And it’s almost my birthday. I seem to have a birthday every other year and this is an on year. Last year I had a non-birthday. This year I want to celebrate. I’m not sure how but I’ll figure something out. I’m alive and I’m grateful. I pray a lot more these days. Give myself over to God. I realize that I have no control over my life and that scares me. But instead of just being scared I can acknowledge that I don’t have to be scared alone, that He is always with me.

I don’t know what’s going on or how to fix it. I know not the how or why. I’m just cruisin’. Sticking to one moment at a time. Not trying to write a masterpiece here but just a note to say I’m still alive and haven’t forgotten this thing called a blog. I’m just in the middle of a twister right now waiting to get out. Having some fun. When the writing comes back I will blog again.

Take home message: I recently discovered I love bowling alley corndogs and I’m now in love with the new version of leggings. I now like wearing dresses. And I’m getting tired of pizza. I thought I wanted a dog, until I lived with one and realized they don’t purr. If dogs purred, they’d be close to perfect pets. I love having a friend living here. I wish I was the one looking for a place to live. I feel scared a lot. I miss my tv. I haven’t gone to jazz in a long time and the void is rotting my brain. I still love laundry. I still want to feed the ducks. And I still love NCIS and stickers. I wear a lot of mismatched things now. I love polka dots, and all things sparkly. I’d really like to pay my bills. And going to an awful board meeting today made me appreciate my board meetings SO much more. I love being alive. Finally.

Love, Michelle

© Michelle Routhieaux 2012

And the story is me

9-5-11     12:18am

I feel like there’s someone telling a story in my head. I can feel the rhythm but I can’t hear her. She stands behind a screen telling her story in a mic.

“Once upon a time,” she says to a captive audience. I listen. I hear her and I listen. There are no words. I hear her. She fascinates me.

I hear purple and the sound of hoof-beats. I hear the sunset. I hear the birds. She sings to me the story that has no words, the story that lives in me.

When I hear the words I write them. When I feel the words I dance them. When I see the words I watch in wonder. The words, they live in me, and they are me. Like God. I hear the beat of the story with letterless words and it lives inside of me. Inside of me. I hear the story. And the story is me.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2011

God is So Good

12-19-10    3:35am

Good is so good. I had a wonderful day today. Stressful in the morning getting everything ready for singing at SeaWorld tonight. Phone calls, coordinating people and such. The weather was gloomy (my favorite) and everyone made it safely and mostly on time. The Shamu show had some extra help tonight. ;) Afterwards my mom and I and the two girls we were taking home stopped at the bay and watched the boat parade and then at InNOut…

Right now I feel kinda spaced out. Well, more than kinda. It is 3:30am. But that really has nothing to do with it. Lately I’ve been in a sort of haze. I’m either really stressed and agitated or pleasantly tuned out. I don’t feel particularly down. More like drugged. I just sit and stare. Staying home usually drives me crazy. I was sick this week and home a lot, but I was ok. It’s like half of my brain is turned off – the half that freaks out and cares. I feel very tired, very mellow, and I can’t understand what you’re saying. Sometimes it concerns me but mostly I’m grateful. It is a reprieve from the crazy, from the agitation. From the times when I can’t stop moving or rocking or repeating words. A resting time. A much needed break.

I’m grateful today for the people in my life. For getting to sing last night, and today with the choir. For having my mom who is my biggest fan and my best support. And for my God who makes it all happen. I feel joy. And I feel tired. God is so good. So so good.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2010

So Let’s Play

8-23-10                2:33am

I feel peaceful tonight, calm. (big smile) Listening to worship music on YouTube.

I was thinking about Tick Tick Tick today. The ending was missing something. On the end it should say, “So let’s play.” I’m not waiting for anything. If today is what I have, I’m gonna have fun. And I think you should too. Let it rain. Feel the drops on your face and smile. (rocking but happy)

Tonight is a haze. My body hurts but I’m happy. I feel free. I don’t know or care why. I feel like something big is about to happen that God’s been preparing me for. I don’t know what, good or bad, or why. I just know that it’s coming and whatever it is He’s got my back.

I am so grateful for what He’s given me. For my unique perspective. And for the ability to see that it’s time to play. Writing last night about illness and death somehow made me happy. It peaks my anxiety, but it’s like letting go of what isn’t and grabbing on to what is. And I like what is, even if it isn’t perfect.

(wave of nausea and trouble breathing… yawn.)

I can’t speak for tomorrow, but tonight I love and accept myself. It’s like a big warm hug from God. :)

It feels like I’m standing in the ocean and my emotions are changed with each passing wave… but the waves aren’t knocking me down.

It’s time to say goodnight… It’s time to say goodnight… It’s time to say goodnight (goodnight). It’s time to say goodnight… It’s time to say goodnight… (repeat until sleeping ;) )

© Michelle Routhieaux 2010