The Groans of the Heart

It's been said that God understands the groans of the heart better than anything that comes out of our mouths. I sincerely believe that's true. But it's not an excuse to not pray; God wants us to ask Him for help. And I have to squarely admit that my prayer life is almost nonexistent. I try to remember God in the small stuff. I will stop, when it dawns on me how good something was, to just say out loud, "Thank you, Lord." I have started going back to Church after a long absence, but that's only once a week. Life doesn't revolve around that one short period of time each week. I try to stop myself when I know I've gone too far in doing bad things. Maybe that's God whispering to me out of nowhere to keep me in line with what I belive and what I know is right. The conscience is a powerful thing. That is where the Holy Spirit resides; God promised that He would never leave us, as we have the Comforter, the Holy Spirit with us, until the end of the age. (grossly paraphrasing Matthew 28) But anyway, this is not enough - it's more than many people, but it's not enough and I know that. And I have relied a lot on groaning instead of praying... I have relied on suffering through what I think I can do myself, as opposed to asking others - anyone - for help. God included. Where is this coming from? You see, this year, 2004, marks my 30th birthday. 30 - a milestone that society deems to be important. When you are young, it's the point at which you become old. But I've always been old in my head... older than what I should be. An old soul, perhaps. I have allowed the turning-30 thing to dance around my brain all year. It's in my air, under my skin... hell, yesterday morning I found my fourth gray hair. So much for aging like my dad... Daddy's like Dick Clark, with a fully shiny head of dark hair. He's only graying minimally around the temples. Daddy is 55. So much for that. I still hold onto hopes that I'll look like Tina Turner when I'm 60. Anyway, so I'm talking to my gf again and she's verbally bitchslapping me for having a "pity party." I feel like, huh? But we have a long conversation about my mental state and I realize that I don't know what I want, and it's causing some anxiety in my life. I'm turning 30, and yet... where am I ? What am I? Where am I going? I put myself on paths, but I haven't committed to much. I've made a lot of contingency plans and have put myself generally in a good position to do things, but my vision of where I would be or wanted to be has shifted over the last couple of years. And now I'm without vision, I'm some amorphous being that is learning to live for today. I'm a control freak without control. Danger, Will Robinson, Danger! To her, I am a consummate overachiever. I think I probably cemented that even more after tonight's conversation. She is right about a lot of stuff - has me pegged so cold that it's not even funny. I have so many good things, have achieved so much - but don't feel like I am good enough. There are some family issues wrapped up in there, but I can't explain all that right now. I didn't think I had big self esteem issues, but I do have some. I don't like looking in the mirror sometimes. I see every flaw that I inflicted upon myself and sometimes I just feel straight up ugly, unattractive, undesirable. I skated through law school, and I am paying for it with my mental health. I'm not where I wanted or expected myself to be, and I don't feel that I have credibility in the areas that mean the most to me. So I'm making backup plans instead of chasing my passion. And I'm being imprisoned - no, scratch that - imprisoning myself by the fears, the limits I set on myself. They say depression is anger without enthusiasm. Damn, I am really beginning to believe that that's correct. My friends look at me like I'm crazy. I have all this stuff - degrees from not one but two top schools; a job that pays my bills and I can live a little; decent family that cares about me and aren't assholes; a burgeoning career where I can be really successful. And yet I groan.... what am I escaping? Why am I torturing myself? Why can't everything that I've achieved be good enough? There is so much detail and I just can't get into it all. But know that I groan... I wish I could just make a stroke of the keyboard and let you into my psyche so that you could understand the volume of material that we went through. I just can't, I don't have the energy nor the time to do it. Plus, I have to pack for a wedding and I'm here blogging - to try to not forget the vast volume of stuff we've gone over. But such is my little addictive personality. Catharsis or sleep, catharsis or sleep... guess which I'm picking? When I was born, I had some kind of freakish illness that was hurting my back. Doctors suspected meningitis, but that wasn't it. Never figured it out... but it eventually went away. The symptoms: I was only comfortable in certain positions but outside of those positions... well, my father had never heard a baby groan until he had me. I groaned.... sucked up the pain, didn't cry out.... I groaned. How ironic is it that, on the cusp of my 30th birthday, I'm outside of a comfortable position and am finding myself groaning? I am a fortress unto myself, with my secret thoughts and opinions on everything. I have built up a lot of walls, and have been dead-set on being Miss Independent. I haven't let those walls down very much. Is it time to cry instead of groan? Perhaps. To hammer home that point even more, I open an email that's been sitting in my box for a couple of days. It's unread because it's the usual kind of inspirational spam that you just can let sit there because you know it's not particularly important for any particular day. But here is the sweet irony: the email asks, "Did you know that people who occupy themselves by keeping others company or helping others are the ones that actually need your company and help?" It also asks, "Did you know that those who need more of you are those that don't mention it to you?" Hit me baby, one more time - "Did you know that if you ask for something in faith, your wishes are granted?" And again: "Did you know that you can make your dreams come true, like falling in love, becoming rich, staying healthy, if you ask for it by faith, and if you really knew, you'd be surprised by what you could do." And there is the mirror... and it becomes yet another one of the times when I just want to smash it. Miss Independent doesn't need anyone's help. She gives help, but doesn't receive. But I need more help than I am willing to let on... I will grudgingly admit that that might be true. I am my own worst enemy. God, help me... to learn to stop groaning and to lean on You and others that You put in my life for a reason.