Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Real (August 24, 2011)

Part of my 'problem' has always been that I say things that most others only think. It's not that I don't have a 'filter' it's just that I genuinely don't care what people think of my realness.

It's no different now, it's just uglier because of the place I'm in. I'm not good at pretending and I don't put on a happy face for the sake of those around me. Why would anyone want me too anyway? What good has faking it ever really done for anyone? Those who love me love the me I am, not the me I could pretend to be.

I've said before that I go up and down. I never know what thoughts or feelings might hit from day to day, or even hour to hour. Sometimes, I'm mean, bitter and nasty. I see you with all sorts of blessings, miracles and general happiness and I want to be happy for you. But I'm not. I'm just jealous. I'm not saying it's right, but it's real.

Why would I even say that out loud? Well because. Because I feel that way, and one day you might too, for whatever reason. Or you may have felt that way already. If no one says things because they are taboo, how is anyone ever suppose to know that what they are feeling isn't unheard of and doesn't make them a terrible person? It's just real.

I can already see the shaking of heads. "Oh poor Bobbi, she needs Jesus." Well, I already have Him, thank you very much, but I'm not perfect. I'm still stuck here on this earth with heartaches, trials, attacks from the enemy and real. human. responses.

If that's too much for you, well, that's just sad. Because people hurt and if you aren't willing to get into the ugly, and really hear that pain, well, I don't know how you can ever really relate to anyone.

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