Understanding Me

I wonder… Am I understood?

I mean, obviously my words are read, and my meanings are interpreted- at least by my English speaking friends.

But do they understand? I wonder this because- to be honest- I don’t even understand myself. I know what it means to be inside my own mind- something that nobody aside from God Himself could ever know- and yet I struggle to understand myself. I have thoughts that come and go, some good- some not.

Is this normal? This perpetual fight inside my mind to know what my mind is thinking? It’s like a battle between myself and… Well myself.

I can maintain composure. I can smile on the outside, act like I have it all together. But if I can’t even understand my own psyche, how am I supposed to understand anything or anyone else?

Am I the only one?

Most of the time I think I have it under control. I think I can maintain at least some semblance of understanding within myself. But then something- anything happens and I lose all confidence.

Does this happen to anyone else? Am I crazy?

Maybe I should just stop thinking. Turn off my brain- stop the over-analyzing in its tracks.

But I can’t. That’s the problem. I like to think. My thoughts are my only comfort sometimes- even though they are often the very knives that destroy me. It’s like a sweet torture. But I hate it.

Why must my thoughts go on like this?

It’s like Twenty One Pilots says:

 I have these thoughts, so often I ought to replace that slot with what I once bought. Cause somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in silence. Sometimes, quiet is violent.

I try to escape my thoughts. Go for a walk. Listen to music. Watch unhealthy amounts of Netflix. But it’s those moments between the songs- the buffering of the next episode of Malcolm in the Middle– the quiet- that my thoughts like to overtake me.

Even as I type this, I wonder if anyone will know what I’m talking about. I wonder if I know what I’m talking about. I’m not crazy- I promise. Just a little frazzled.

Try to understand me. This is me being raw. Open. For the sake of helping others who struggle in similar ways. I’m still me. But maybe now you can understand who I am a little bit better. I have struggles- like everyone else. I have just come to realize that being open and vulnerable with mine- often helps someone be open and vulnerable with theirs. Let’s avoid the quiet that is so violent. And please- don’t create it.

God, I need you. Every minute. Send your wisdom and please- clear my thoughts. Focus them on you.


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