papa was a rolling stone

this has not been my best week.

It seems as if all my bridges have been burned,
You say that’s exactly how this grace thing works
It’s not the long walk home that will change this heart,
But the welcome I receive at the restart
{mumford & sons - roll away your stone}
...


these lyrics are kinda how I'm feeling.  like I just muck everything up all the time.  the ol' hormones have kicked in big time this week and my head is haunting me.  I don't have the energy to fight and in not having the energy, my self-destructive tendencies start to kick in.  self-implosion.  okay, so maybe I'm being just slightly dramatic.  or maybe I am just beginning to recognize this before it hits and I'm in the middle of it.  bottom line, I'm my worst enemy.  I don't cut myself slack, because in my head all I do is cut myself too much slack!  and this whole two weeks with no sugar is proof of that.  yeah.  I haven't recovered from the weekend.  at all.  not too sure if I can.  ha!  but on the flip side, I've held down my lent-no-booze-committment without any problem.  so it's not that I give up on everything.  so I shouldn't be so hard on myself, should I?  grrr.  {don't worry...this isn't even really making any sense to me either.  I'm a tired, rambling girl tonight!}

I think it boils down to this:  I have lived my life being called a procrastinator, believing that I had no discipline, being told that I always gave up and took the easy way.  and to this day, I believe them to be true.  so I live up to what I believe.  and I can pull proof out and show you throughout my adult life how I gave up on things, changed my mind, caved, conceeded, waited until the last minute, and avoided hard work.  never do I look at these situations, this proof, and see how no one guided me or mentored me when I didn't understand the path to take or how my childhood/church/upbringing distorted my view and crippled me, forcing me to be so unsure of myself.  I don't look at how I was bullied by a classmate in school.  I don't look at how little I trust people.  I don't look at anyone else and their adult decisions, just how once again I didn't measure up to expectations.  I don't cut myself any slack.  and I don't forgive myself.  I don't even know how.  so here I sit, giving up again.  and beating myself up over it.

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
I struggle to find any truth in your lies
And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know
This weakness I feel I must finally show
{mumford & sons - awake my soul}

...


so I guess it's time to change the soundtrack of my life.  the tape player in my head that consistently sends me messages that are lies.  grace is for me.  for my life.  for my sin.  for my salvation.  for my relationships.  the welcome I receive at the restart.  sometimes I get it.  this week I know it, but I feel so far away.  which I am learning is when I am closer, more surrounded, more loved than I even know.

okay, I know this is pretty raw honesty here.  but it's my cheap therapy.  sometimes talking {writing!} it out totally helps.  not too sure tonight, but it gets the conversation started.  for me at least.