I wrote a bunch of true stuff, but the truth is that Job's friends said all the true stuff and there was nothing true about it at all, really.

i am tired of hurting. i am tired of hurt that i think is going to make me burst, and the only thing i can do when it's like this is cut into my skin. tired of having a tired heart. tired of misunderstanding existence. tired of needing to be accepted by you because i'm too ashamed to accept myself. i am tired of the sick feeling at the thought of today and another day and a few decades of years worth. i'm tired of occasional good days that make me believe good is the reality. they're like a mean, cruel, trick. because even if they are the true reality, they aren't mine.

i'm tired of the jealousy i can't escape, as if it's my energy, as it's fuel i use to keep on. it devastates my soul, and yours. tired of this teeth grinding, this loud heart beating, this every night take a tablet in the hope that tomorrow it'll be alright.

yeah, it's too much for you, i know. i smelled a flower yesterday, and then the same one again today. it's on a tree in the backyard, they're spring blooms, they'll be gone soon. the bees like them, too. it smelled so sweet i just wanted to stand there forever, breathing it in. it's the first time i have smelled a flower without wrinkling my nose in disgust.

the last few days i've been going outside again, like i used to. i used to say that i can't breathe indoors, and it's still true. i don't know how much oxygen i have left. outside, i have been breathing. my thoughts have been shifting when i'm out there. somehow they move to God, about how us being here now is about us being one with God. about how everything is moving forward into him. that's when my lungs really inhale. same as with that flower. for some reason i keep walking away.

i'm glad to be writing this now. i gave up writing in my diary quite a long time ago. i don't pen it all down nearly enough.

i run a lot lately. i ate chocolate today, which was a bit of a rarity, come lately. sometimes i don't want to eat food at all. i don't know why all these things are wrong suddenly. or not so suddenly. maybe entirely gradually.

the main thing is what i see in my mind. a long road to nowhere, all the roads cut off. dead ends. road work signs that keep me out. it's like a tenacious fear that chains me to my insides: this, my pathetic life. amounting to nothing.............

i like ending posts with some poetic-y line about hope.
i don't know what to say, though. Job's friends would. i don't want to be like them anymore though. i only want to say the stuff that's really true. the stuff that mostly comes without answers.

i listen to the jon foreman station on pandora a lot. and the pride and prejudice station. i run to it, without headphones.
how are you? take a deep breath. i just did. sometimes it helps. even if you can't breathe very deep at all.


  1. Sometimes breathing shallow is all you can do. It's all you need to do. Keep breathing. It's not that the path disappears when it gets dark - it's only that you can't see it. It's still there, and those who have walked the dark ahead of you promise the light will come again. It's hope for you...but not for those who've gone that way before, because they've lived it. They know the dark and they've come again into the light at last.
    Keep breathing.

  2. Hey Emii. I hope this doesn't sound strange, but a week or so ago I remembered your blog from at least 5-6 years ago when I used to follow Nancy Rue's blog for tween and teen girls. I remembered so admiring your writing and boldness, opinions, faith and stories. I forgot the specifics of your old blog name though, then forgot about it. But when I was scrolling through my Pinterest followers today I found you. So crazy. I just wanted to let you know that your writing here....it is so raw, real, true. it's refreshing to read in a world that so quickly glosses over pain and pretends all is well when indeed it is not. so often it seems that pain is hidden and stuffed inside because people are afraid to let it out. I know that Jesus sits and shares in our pain and understands. I only got through a season of my life because of that. I'm praying for you, Emii. Keep breathing. even shallow breaths.


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