And it burns like third degree

(Switchfoot – I won’t let you go)

God is good. He isn’t good because I have incredible friends, nor would he be not good if I had no friends. He wasn’t not good when I was denied the job I had been working towards for as long as I can remember. No, God is not good because of my life circumstances, but the persistence of my awesome friends loving on me allowed me to once again acknowledge the goodness of my God. I am still grieving my loss (although the DSM IV says I should have been done 8 days ago), but I finally have been able to acknowledge that God cares even though right now it hurts so much. I still can’t hold on to hope because the tiny glimmers are vanish before they even really become real, but now I can recognize how God helped me through it so far. God gave me a best friend who didn’t get upset when I yelled at her via text about how God doesn’t care and she even invited me into the craziness of her life and continued to be my primary support while I was drowning and she certainly had more important things to do. God gave me a manager who was understanding and accommodating and coworkers who understood at least enough of what I was going through to not make me take my whole breaks or even tease me about it…and that is huge, because I used to constantly be in trouble about not taking my breaks, because my choices were either take them or cancel them, but I wasn’t taking my breaks or cancelling them…I was just working. And I had people at church who loved on me when I was falling apart…and one who invited me in without even knowing what was going on…and I (kinda mostly sorta) started eating and drinking and sleeping again…so yeah, I don’t a job. I don’t have my dream job, but I know God is still here even when I am laying on a futon in an office crying my little heart out before I put on pajamas and go to bed. I might continue to be sad, but it is okay to be sad. It isn’t wrong or bad. It just is.

Damaged people know they can survive…also, because I am pretty much the most terrible liar in the whole world…I can’t help but admit on my completely unrestricted blog that I told a half truth today…which yes I do recognize is the same thing as telling a whole lie…so to set the premise for this confession, when I was a second year, someone asked me how I would kill myself if I wanted to do it…I had absolutely no idea. My guess would be that the intent of the question was to judge my safety before allowing me to start setting my own rules because this person thought I shouldn’t set rules because I would set myself up for failure and be so frustrated with myself that perhaps I’d do something I shouldn’t. In reality, I desperately needed SOMEONE to set rules for me and if she wasn’t going to do it I was going to set my own rules. I needed structure; I created structure. It worked extremely well for me and brought me a lot more progress than talking (okay fine, writing and miming) about my fear was ever going to do. So anyway, back to the point, I had no idea and didn’t have the insight at the time to understand why I was being asked, so I figured I should probably figure out how I would kill myself if I wanted to do it. So yes, I do have a plan, despite the fact that I denied it today. But the intent of today’s question I KNOW was to assess safety, and there is a huge difference between knowing how you would do it if you were going to and having any intention at all of actually doing it…not to mention that I am way too exhausted these days to have the executive function to actually carry out any kind of plan even if I did want to. But it WAS still a half truth…the question was technically phrased do you have a plan you were thinking about…and that thinking about part is where I made it a half truth…’cause at this point it is hard to call anything I am doing thinking…mind rambles might be moderately descriptive…or maybe neurons firing almost randomly to create an approximation of a bubbly life while joy is lost…but I mean, thoughts are kinda stretching it…

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