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Comeasyouareaneurysm23
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Name: Susie
Birthday: 3/7/1988
Gender: Female
Interests: learning to grow in God, creating art, growing plants, listening to music, writing poetry, journaling, reading, playing guitar, eating fruit, campaigning for Amnesty International, staring and having conversations with inanimate objects, and making lists
Expertise: zoning out, growing aloe plants, driving people places, creating random doodles, psycho-analyzing situations, drowning in nostalgia, and creating delusional realities
Occupation: Student
Industry: Art/Design
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  extolhim37
Member Since:
6/7/2003
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| I don't remember the last time I threw up. Each time I coughed and wretched, a voice in my head whispered, "Go, purge yourself of the poison." The "poison" was all my medicine. Pills. Caplets. Herbs. Nothing seems to be working...I've been nauseous, tense, and depressed for over two weeks. When the doctor took my blood last week, she actually found a vein on the first try; only the second one to achieve such a feat. She commented that they were situated awfully deep in my skin...a safety measure from God perhaps? My mother scheduled me for an upper-GI scan next week. Whee...swallowing barium. There's a demon inside of me that wants me to just give up the fight and lie down to die. When I laid there for hours on end, silently crying, a voice kept murmuring, "My daughter, my daughter, why are you in so much pain?" I am ashamed to say I turned away; I did not want to be comforted. I felt I had lost the most important things...faith, hope, Love. But I know He's not leaving my side until I respond to His voice.
"He said to her, 'Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.'"
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| Many people find spring to be a blessing, a time of renewal
to find hope, a new light. For me, it is a daydream and a nightmare
intermingled, a splatter of past memories and regrets, a pain too deep to
describe, a confusion too great for my mind. It’s having to find out that I’m
still the same, still confused, and still broken. There is the constant
reminder of those adolescents, of those children with the teary eyes and
bruises on their souls.
Let me tell you about a remarkable young man named Drew. He
grew up in a poor mining town, and works over 70 hours a week to support
himself. His drill sergeant for boot camp was killed in a freak accident, and
he has nightmares about it every single night. He draws incredible, imaginative
pictures, but they reflect a mind that is slowly deteriorating. And he is only
17.
If I told you I was in the hospital, would you come visit,
or pretend you don’t know my name? If I was on the street, and you saw me,
destitute, would you quickly walk away, or would you offer me a meal and an
understanding ear? If I were a child who was being abused, would you report to
the police or pretend you don’t see the signs? It drives me mad. Because admit
it, myself included, we are selfish people. We don’t give a crap about those
who really need us. We hurt the ones we love. We turn our backs to the Living
God.
The Lamictal levels are dipping in my blood, and I can
feel my vitality being drained, little by little. God on call, I need an IV
stat. | | |
| Though the fig tree does not bud
and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
I will be joyful in God my Savior. | | |
| This warning echoes and shatters, my friend
“Xiao xin,” with a touch of scolding
backed up against the corner again
sick of being a wallflower
but unwilling to step out
will I throw my heart to the hyenas
or be swallowed in a world of doubt? | | |
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