Self-same Silence

I'm not blogging, not because I don't want to.

Because I can't.

I'm fiercely in denial, in order to hold together the fractured pieces of my world. The other day I knocked a lid off one of my mom's kitchen decorations - a glass strawberry - and it shattered into pieces. My little sister taped it back together with scotch tape. Pathetic, and not entirely the same (there are still chips and tiny fragments missing), but it's there. This is me in every sense.

Only I'm effacing the reality, because I don't want to breakdown and start drowning again. Yes, I'm ready to hack blogging now - that's a difference; but I'm still flailing wildly against the quicksand of despair and screaming desperately as I try to prop up the crumbling citadels of hope and faith.

Lying is so much easier. It's pain-free, care-free, and un-stressful.

I need to talk about Conference. How wholly unhelpful it was. How hurtful it was. How much it brings to the surface everything I'm trying to force back under the water with all my might in the hopes that it will finally run out of air and just DIE.

But it never will.

It fights, and kicks back, and I'm just not strong enough to beat the Goliath; even if I am David.

My old Bishop -friend and more- called me last night, and I spoke to him of it. For the first time. My facade dissipated and I became real for a brief, choking moment. As the Assistant Director of the counseling department of BYU, he talks to people like me all the time. And he told me that he's having the SAME conversation with others. The SAME one.

But... I'm not ready to talk about that. Not yet. But it's coming soon.

Like a child growing inside of me, except it's fully aware; kicking, and tearing at my insides, until it finally rips its way outside of me. It's only a matter of time before that happens, and my guts and blood, and dripping soul will slather the pages of this blog for your prying, wondering, hopeful... pitying eyes to read.