3. Rising

“No more tears of mine would fall, no more sorrow of Anna’s would exist. No more anxiousness would fill her.  I would be…no more.” –Blog 2

     There on the floor I laid…flat on my back.  Tears running onto my hair; across the short distance of my face to the carpet, they soaked it.  Looking at the ceiling the tears would change the shape of my physical view; I soon found myself metamorphosing into a fetal position—needing refuge. These times all I could think about was death. To just erase myself from this place.  Anything, ANYTHING had to be better than this.

Thus I laid there and cried. “God HELP ME, PLEASE God, Please HELP ME…PLEASE”, I murmured with the inkling of breath I still held.  Those were my last words as the carpet lost its site in my eyes, as my tears continued to drain and my eyelids—finally covered it all.

…Carpet filled my visuals. My hair drenched in tears and sweat…this was my reality.  “Ugh, this again”, as I realized I had awakened.  My eyes were nearly swollen shut, due to the excessive crying.  How long had I been asleep? I anxiously searched for my phone to read the time. “Two hours!!! I was asleep for two hours, that’s it?” Felt closer to a few days. Nonetheless, the realization of my body, mind, and spiritual depletion was nothing new.  Wait, yes it was!! I had had these episodes before. Suffering from depression was something that began as a young teenager for me.  But spiritual depletion Anna?  What do you know about spirituality?  For the first time ever, I was aware of my spirit—and according to my heart and mind—it was depleted!   

Somehow this time I was able to get up, solely by my nervousness of the unawareness to the time and atmosphere; thus an energy forced me up.  In past episodes my deadened body would just lie there; willfully, for hours, at times for an entire day.  If it weren’t for things or people whom needed me, I could have cared less.  I would have spent my life on that floor, why would I need to get up…for what?

When in desperation or in that state of ending it all, loss of a sane perspective is standard.  Being in those mental states, all I could think of was ending me—that’s it.  There were no thoughts of my friends, colleagues, my family, or my social networking friends. Their feelings were nonexistent for me at those times.  …Except for one—my dad.  Many occasions I would be 10 seconds from just doing it, my dad’s face would then show itself. I then would curse. Ugh, why was this always here to distract me???…”just let me die”, I would yell.  But his face, was so present in those moments, I just couldn’t do it.  Flashbacks of me being his little girl, flashbacks of him crying when he would have to leave after visiting me.  My dad is a sentimental guy and just imagining him crying, took my suicidal insanity away at those moments.  He had lost his first son to a disease. To lose me too, I’m pretty sure would kill him.  Every time I was close, these flashbacks would reoccur. I couldn’t do it. …Thank you Father.

Days later I spoke with a friend regarding the spiritual depletion I was feeling and how this was very new for me.  I was on the Agnostic/Atheist side of the realm for years.  I told him I could not believe much in anything, for my pain was just too great. I presented the universal question of all Atheists, “If God is real, why is there so much suffering??” Blah, blah blah! Lol He was a well accomplished man, both academically and in his career.  I trusted this man.  He had been like a brother, a teacher, a best friend to me.  I listened to him. He said, “Anna. Perhaps you should pray. Pray to be shown.” “Hmmmm”, I mumbled. It couldn’t hurt. I mean, everything I had tried up to this point was an F.A.I.L, hence I could try.  It may give me a new perspective and who knows, I may be shown something. Shrugging*!

Hence, praying became an everyday occurrence.  I would pray upon waking, during my times of sadness and anger, I would pray while brushing my teeth, while driving, and listening to others speak, I would pray during school time, I would pray while working out, baking, walking outside, in the store shopping, while doing my makeup, tying my shoes, studying—yep, name the occasion there I was, praying.  But when I say praying, I mean talking to God as if we had been “homies” for years and I just needed to vent.  There was nothing formal about it.  Just me and God…talkin’.  Well, lol I was talking.  I guess he was listening. His silence gave the perception he was listening, so I just went with it.  It actually felt good.  I was not one who had many friends.  Wait, let me rephrase that, I was not one who liked many people, hence I did not have many friends! Lol  But this one I could get used to!  It was like this one knew balance.  He wasn’t thirsty, he didn’t gossip, he didn’t hit on me, he didn’t speak nonsense like many people did which highly annoyed me, he was the most perfect listener. 

Many times after saying all I needed to say to him, “Thanks for listening God”, would follow.  There were no breakthroughs or epiphanies.  Nothing about me seemed to change. Just me, Anna, talking to a God I wasn’t really sure even existed.  I guess for me, the insanity I possessed, made it practical for me to talk to something supernatural. In my eyes I was already weird anyway—how much weirder could it get?!  So, with no new mindset or ways of living, I just talked to God. Six months passed…and I would have Never fathomed the change, that was about to take place.