"Is it possible to live life without some form of anesthesia?"
I read the sentence above on Christy's blog within an hour of waking up from a self numbed sleep. Her question has been my own so often. Will I ever stop soothing myself with self destructive activities? Will I ever stop turning to food for comfort? Will I ever stop numbing myself into oblivion? Will I ever choose true intimacy over the company of me, myself and I? I have been able to resist the urge to make a zillion lists in a quest to fix my life. I know making a list won't heal the gaping wounds. It's what to do with the increasing self loathing as the wounds seemingly fester that hounds me.
I type all this while hearing in my head statements that Christians(myself included) say outloud in an effort to make the journey bearable. Statements which are often good and true yet still make me want to run screaming from the room. I hear them and think piss off - you're only trying to distance yourself from my humanity.
Fuck progress, I want perfection.
And I wonder if a day will ever come when I will be at peace with my imperfections instead of trying to outrun them.