Depression

There's many things I'm feeling,
Which make me wonder why,
Why it is I'm living,
And why I cannot die.

And when the pain surrounds me,
And keeps me trapped inside,
Not many people notice,
Or walk there by my side.

But in the shadowed darkness,
I see a glimpse of light.
I know that I must follow,
The path which now seems bright.

Its you who's helping me through this.
You I'm counting on.
I'll keep my eyes on Jesus
And I'll live on and on.

Should I have told?

My head is feeling so weary
From the battle that is raging inside.
Its a battle my head is having with itself,
Which I don't know whether to hide.

A part of me knows its good to share stuff,
Knows not to keep it locked away.
In that sense, talking about it was good,
I have said what I could never say.

This side of me feels the tension inside,
When I think of God loving me.
This part of me knows that accepting that fact,
Is soemthing with which I have difficulty.

This part of me knows my feelings are real,
They're genuine strains on my heart.
This side of me is desperate to deal with it all,
But just doesn't know where to start.

And yet there's another side to the story,
One which I think is all lies,
But what if I'm wrong and its actually true?
Can you see the battle over which my heart cries?

That side thinks I have done wrong.
Exxaggerated small negative feelings.
These feelings don't even affect me that much,
And anyway, are common to most human beings.

So why should I make myself different?
Use this for seeking attention?
It frustrates me that I makes such a big deal out of it.
I just wish it had never got mentioned.

Of course I believe God loves me.
Of course I believe He cares.
I only get tense becasue I make myself think I am,
I should never, ever have shared.

I am stupid, attention seeking and proud,
And yet, no, I'm telling the truth.
But am I? I think I am.
But am I?

Is This All?

Is this all there will ever be?
Shopping, exercise, this family.
Going to work every single day,
Where my effort changes nothing,
Meaningless work for meaningless pay.

I like buying clothes that help me fit in,
I love being with friends and making myself thin,
Discussing theology and faith and such,
But does any of this matter?
It doesn't change very much.

I think I'm scared of it staying that way,
I want to do more, have a part to play.
Is this all there is, no hope of anything more?
I'm told to trust in God's plan,
But I will never know for sure.

Christmas

Well Christmas day has happened and it was filled with fun,
Many many things to laugh at, many presents shared.
Games were played, dvd's watched, toys and gadgets prepared,
Ready to be used or played with throughout the rest of the year.

So when I am asked 'so how was your Christmas'? how can I not say,
'It was truly wonderful, a really special day'.
I can't because that is the truth, I really enjoyed myself,
I love my family so very much. being together is so much fun.

The only thing that was missing-the biggest thing I guess,
Was my true worship of Jesus, and willingness to be blessed,
By all that he can teach me at this special time of year.
I don't know why I won’t let him touch me, unless its simply fear.

I’m sorry lord I know you're there I know you know my heart.
But there's this stuff I ought to let go of, but honestly I can’t.
I want to please you, worship you, feel you, I want to trust in you,
But the truth is I don't and i'm scared and alone, afraid that none of its true.

I want to beieve.
Help my unbelief.

The gentle quietness surrounds me

The gentle quietness surrounds me
Like waves gently lapping at my feet,
The breeze calmly stroking my face
A peaceful serenity is in the air.

Funny how the external atmosphere
Can mis-represent all that’s inside.
Funny how there can be internal chaos
When all that’s outside is so nice.

Creation is such a beauty,
Friends and family are kind.
Everything plods along nicely,
No massive hurdles to climb.

But on the inside its different,
On the inside is pain.
All that’s within is tense and tight,
And I just cant escape my mind.

The harsh reality traps me,
Like a tight knot I can’t unravel,
The parched land of my mind screaming for liquid
A chaotic battle within my bones.

And yet

The gentle quietness surrounds me
Like waves gently lapping at my feet,
The breeze calmly stroking my face
A peaceful serenity is in the air.

How can this be?
Why should this be?
Why can’t I be thin?
Why can I not win?

Why is everything in conflict?

Say No!

I seriously have a problem
I can’t focus on anything but food
There’s muffins and chocolate and biscuits
So that’s it – my attention is glued.

I have eaten a lot of it already
When I promised I’d not eat a thing
I’ve ruined it and now just want more
But I am scared of the mood it will bring.

I get down when I have eaten a lot
Coz it means I am going to gain weight.
Gaining weight is the ultimate no-no
But to lose it – that makes me feel great.

I wont lose lose weight if I eat,
I might lose weight if I don’t.
That’s all I care about, I mustn’t forget
When I want to eat – I just wont.

Come on Kirst you can do it,
You really really can
Just say no way or no thanks
And always stick to the plan.

Normal?

Do I want to be normal?
Is that what its all about?
Fighting against the differences I see
Between me and others in the world,
My friends,
Society,
'The norm'.

I always hated being different,
Always afraid of telling the truth
About my likes and dislikes,
About the things I did and the way I felt
When it was different,
Odd,
Not 'the norm'.

And yet so many want to stand out,
To not be 'just another person'
And in many ways I so want that too,
But I guess I want it in other ways,
Like being noticed,
Having significance,
Being remembered.

I guess the ways in which I am 'different'
Are not the differences I want.
I am different in ways that are not seen to be good;
The ways that don't make you 'successful'
Like being unattractive,
Boring,
Dull.

The things I have always fought against,
And hid from as many as possible,
That I never mentioned, and couldn't laugh at myself for,
Because actually it all hurt too much,
Because I never wanted it.
I hated it.
Detested it.

Being ugly,
Being fat,
Not being funny,
Not knowing how to start a conversation,
Not understanding culture,
Not knowing the latest trends,
Or music,
Or celebrities,
And not even caring about those things.

Not being able to talk about surface stuff,
Not finding, 'when I was drunk' stories funny.
Not even wanting to listen to them.
Not wanting to laugh or being able to pretend it doesn't matter,
When someone does something,
or says something that is wrong.
Or that hurts someone,
or is damaging.
Only wanting to have fun when it is pure,
And not finding it fun when it isn't.
Basically being boring,
And highly strung.
-A goody-two-shoes.

Having to shave my facial hair,
Being very very hairy everywhere.
Having lots of spots all over my body.
Having a big tummy,
Big thighs,
Big bum.
Having a flaky scalp - otherwise termed dandruff,
Having horrible hair,
A horrible chin,
A tiny round head.

Having very bad eyesight,
Which I stupidly thought was my fault,
And am really actually very embarrassed about.
Having bad fingernails,
Fat feet with weird little toes,
Horrible shape,
Bad taste in clothes,
In music,
In films.

Never being fancied or having a boyfriend.

I hate all those things about me,
They are things I never said,
Mainly because acknowledging them,
Would make me vulnerable and able to be hurt by them.
So I didn't,
But it hurt anyway.
Really hurt.

I guess I wanted people to like me,
To think I had something to offer.
To feel like being with me added something to their lives,
But all that stuff stopped that happening,
And I hated me for it.
And I still do,
I always will do.

Now I guess I am getting to the age
Where my looks don't matter to people so much anymore,
So I feel like now its my time to be someone.
Its my time for everything to all be better;
So why is it not?
I thought it would be,
But its not.

I still want people to like me,
To feel I have something to offer.
To want to be with me because I add something to their lives,
But even now, at this age, at this time,
I am left alone,
Still vulnerable.
Insignificant.

I am afraid of going by unnoticed.
Living my life but leaving no legacy.
A meaningless existence where I just get by.
Being nobody's everything,
Just another person,
A nobody.
A shell.

I guess its the same for many people - most people,
But many of them have found for themselves
Their own little world within the big world.
A family that they can call their own,
Where they are needed,
Influential,
Important.

I don't have that, so the only place I can make a difference,
Is in the bigger, wider world.
And that is a scary place that is too big for little me,
With all my insecurities, and rubishness
My differences,
Oddness,
Incompleteness.

So I want to be significant, and to make a difference,
But yet want to fit into the normal way of doing that.
It makes no sense, how does that work?
What do I even want?
Who am I?
Nothing.
Empty.

This is my life.
This is my shell.