I really don’t know what to say in here, but look, at least I’m brokenhearted. I still could not wrestle with the fact that a person could hate me so much as not to forgive me… My problem is I can’t take it…
If God is real, then why…why do I feel depressed? Why. Why. Why. There are so many why’s. But there’s one why I also want an answer for. Actually, two. If God is indeed real, why do I feel down and lonely and empty? But, why would I expect that question to be rational, anyway?
It feels so happy to free a burdened, lost, and anxious soul. I just came from a calm, sincere, and heart-to-heart talk with my best friend who I think was lost, and I’m just too inspired not to write about the experience immediately. If there’s one thing I realized, it’s that love finds its way without forcing itself. It finds your way, as it did mine, and as it did Thea’s. So I’m writing about how to help a lost friend—but maybe, just not the conventional way.
Slowly but surely—as the popular adage goes—I’m seeing my best friend live. It turns out that genuinely loving a person does heal. How does that work? How does genuine love heal? Well, rather than being buckets that only seek to be filled, would we not find more happiness, and thereby, experience healing, in being conduits of genuine love to one another?
An apparently emotionless father would have a daughter living in emotional hell. That’s me, the daughter. I’ve suffered many things from my dysfunctional father.
I searched the WordPress Reader for the term and came across a blog. Finally, I saw a definition of codependency that was clear as noonday. A codependent happens to be someone like me, but wait—there’s more.