Empty Hands

I want to say a lot. I think at this point I'm screaming at myself to. It's been now over two weeks without music and me releasing into song. I haven't written in my journal in a month. These little blogs here and there scratch the surface of what's eating away at my soul, if at that. I'm not really talking to anyone. Yet here I am just barely breathing on the verge of explosion yet still retreating further and further into myself. It's causing myself this great level of anxiety. This sickness that is hard to handle yet I have to just bear it anyway. That's what I always have to do.

Today at Mass I couldn't find the peace that I needed. The peace that I so often find and hate tearing myself away from as I leave my church. Instead my anxiety just continued to fill me. And I felt overwhelmingly alone. As we prayed the Lord's Prayer and everyone joined hands my heart ached in pain because I had no one's hand to hold. I was in an empty pew by myself, like I am every Sunday. For some reason today, I couldn't handle that fact that my hands were as empty as my heart.