Sunday, June 18

Will the real Meg please stand up?

I learned a lot about myself this weekend. I can't say I am proud or happy about it all. I find it's easier to be in new circles, not old. I find myself more secure with new people. Not old friends. I find it's hard for me to be me. Even when I have somewhat of a grasp on who "me" is.

The play was amazing! I got to run camera during the performance, so I was glad I saw it in its entirety during dress rehearsal. That was a very good thing. Running camera was sweet, reminiscent of my days at GTN.

I also met my friend, who used to be my boss, earlier that day. It was really good as always to have a conversation about life with him. I admire his willingness to let me be me. To let me be as messed up as I am. I can just be. I don't have to be anyone I am not. And as time goes on, our friendship changes into something more and more beautiful. Something I am humbled to have in my life. God shows me the true essence of acceptance and love through this relationship and I value it. I value the peace that comes over me when I am in the presence of someone who has the gift of wisdom. And this man has that gift.

I had a rather fun Saturday. There were plenty of houseguests here at Chez Chad & Christy, and I loved having so many new people around. The down fall of this: my insecurity came back and I was overcaffeinated to boot. Friday night and Saturday morning I made a total donkey out of myself. I was not happy about it either. I feel shameful when I act loud and too boisterous. I try to grab all the attention for myself, not wanting anyone else to have it. And no matter what way one can slice that up, it spells selfishness and immaturity. Two things with which I hate being identified.

I also act this way when I am around guys that I have a crush on. It's not cool to be all giddy and retarded around guys, but I get that way around guys I think are attractive. You should have seen me when I worked at the television station. Ugh. I got all retarded over the IT guy there. I would always say the wrong thing and stumble over my words and be a total retard. It was no good. No good at all. I was that way this weekend a little. But that's all I'm saying. I am not divulging anything else. Lame. (That's all I need is to be all dumb over a dude.)

I really love the group I hung out with this weekend. I connect more with them than I think I have a group in a long time. They are totally used by God right now to meet my needs emotionally. What I need, God gives me through them. Christy and I sat at MoJoe on Saturday evening and talked for real about what I am going through right now. The girl cried with me. I mean how long it has been since someone did that! It was awesome. I really feel a real connection with her. I have such a love in my heart for who she is. Her heart of compassion is so amazing and so beautiful. I felt closer to sanity after that conversation.

I saw my friend Melissa today too. And she and I had a great talk. I was so super excited to talk to her! (I think quality time is my love language.) Anyway, she told me something that hit me. The last time I talked to her I told her that things were tough and crazy but I said that despite that fact, I wasn't going down without a fight.

I need to bring that side of me to the surface more often. I am a fighter. Things are crazy hard right now, but dang it, I have to keep going. I can't give up now. I have to keep going. I want to keep going.

If you ever saw the movie Titanic, you know that when the ship sinks, the people react to it differently. The string quintet keeps playing instead of going to a raft for safety, an elderly couple gets in bed together and cuddles as the water rises around them, and a young mother tucks her children into bed with a wonderful story. They all prepare to drown!

Heck no. No! That's ridiculous! Ridiculously lame. No. I always thought that was so stupid. I will lie on a piece of wood, I will grab onto a whale and swim... Something! There is no way I would go out like that. That's not beautiful. That's sad. It makes me sad. It's not poetic. It's lame.

I'd call up MacGyver and make my own freaking raft. For sure.

No way will I go out like a punk.

On 9/11 when United flight 93 fought back, man, I was not ashamed to be part of the human race. That's the way to go down. That's the way to leave. Making your mark. Leaving a legacy behind. When evil or death comes your way, you kick and scream and say, "Win all the battles you want, you so-and-so, I'll win the war! I've got someone bigger than you on my side!"

I have it in me. I am a warrior. I'm not afraid. I have moments of being scared, but I am not afraid.

And again I say, I will not go down without a fight.

Yet, on the other hand, the more one struggles when drowning, the lower he sinks.

Which is the way for me? Do I even know? Can I even make sense of all of this craziness around me?

How do I translate what I learned of God and his character into my life now? How do I not lose my mind dealing with all of the crap I have been dealing with?

I just don't know. I mean, it's just hard. And painful. And sometimes I want to feel anything but all the pain and sadness, so I self medicate. However that translates for me.

Dude, I know why my dad is an alcoholic. I know why people shoot heroin into their veins. I know why people have pre-marital sex and watch porn all the time. They're self-medicating. They're into the fun feeling of doing things that just aren't the best for them in the long run.

I know why I love food so much. I know why I overeat. I know why I just want to get drunk sometimes, why I think it would be so easy to start smoking again. I know. I get it. And I get why other people do it.

They tire of fighting and running from their pain.

They aren't so sure they want to fight after all.

But who do I want to be when this is all over? String quintet? Or United flight 93?

Who is this Meg? Denver/Safa Meg? Or yell, cuss and cry about it Meg? Mature Meg? Or whine and be the melodramatic actress Meg?

Sigh. It's late.

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