Fighting The Ghosts In My Head
A reflection and a prayer of sorts...
“I come alive when I hear you singing, but lately I haven't been hearing a thing. I get the feeling that I'm in between a machine and a man who only looks like me.” - Thrive, Switchfoot
I’m in-between jobs again. The last one didn’t end all that well and I quit before I was fired… ahem, separated. For some reason my previous employer doesn’t like the word fired or let go. In the last month, I’ve beat the new Spider-Man 2, finished Swagger seasons 1 and 2, helped my dad build a dog run for my sister’s dog Jax, and started (and finished) Season 3 of Outer Banks - a show I previously watched with a group of friends in Seattle.
Lately, it seems so much reminds me of my time in Seattle. Unfortunately, it's a lot of the lowlights or a reminder of why I left and will no longer put up with certain things. The payoff is hard, untilled ground and a fight to thrive in my new normal. Gosh, remember when we heard that phrase every moment of every day. That phrase created so much tension, well the events and circumstances around it really.
Some days, that’s what I miss most, the tension with folks. Because it meant they were in my life, and I hadn’t realized most of them weren’t aware of the tension. When they were, it was too late, we were just catching up to what was already really…there.
There’s a line from Switchfoot that pings in my head from one of their albums that served as the soundtrack to my senior year of high school - another hard year in my life internally. Externally, it seemed I was having the time of my life.
“I want to thrive, not just survive.” - also Thrive, Switchfoot
I don’t want the simple answers, nor do I want to toil at the hard answers for nothing. I want to be able to breathe - even among rubble. I often think of the good things I have. A roof over my head, a partner who comes home every day, a vehicle that's reliable and ours, and a few treasures - electronics, people, music, and a kitten. My wife Angelique and I are rebuilding a life together. As she reminded me this week, we now get to be near to family for events big and small, important and mundane.
One thing I want right now is a place I feel safe enough to let my guard down a bit. I’m constantly fighting ghosts, constantly in my own head, and my heart feels like it could just stop sometimes. Lately, I’ve let Bloons Tower Defense (6 to be exact) be a distraction, because I’m decently good at it and its low stakes. Failing at defending the imaginary tower is less painful than failing at defending or even building any real-life towers.
I used to know who I was, and where I fit in - these days I feel more isolated than ever. These are the wounds of church hurt, harm, and fallout. Save the arguments about “people hurt you, not God”. It’s spiritually bypassing and it’s actually not true. The truth is I haven’t spoken to God except for a few formless groans and a few f-bombs here and there. I am angry with, saddened, and disappointed in His people, and in Him. I am and it’s a lot to process when you can’t run.
In a city, you can find spaces to hide. Explore far enough and you’ll find some places no one knows you and places no one will find you. Not so much in a small town, let alone one you grew up in. When you fail, so many people know. Even people who normally would not care. So, what do I actually want? And what might I be afraid of? What am I running from? How can I find this sense of thriving?
“Am I a man when I feel like a ghost? The stranger in the mirror is wearing my clothes.” - yet again, Thrive.
Some of my conversations end up where I’ll admit there is a fear I won’t and don’t amount to much more now that I’m far too removed from what I thought was the Lord bringing me. He brought me to that place, right? Now that I’ve lost it all am I destined to my own Job story - Am I just stuck somewhere in the middle?
Some nights I stay awake and think of what I might be able to build, but honestly my brain won’t let me get too far before it all comes back to spaces that caused so much pain. How do you dream when all your dreaming just makes you remember the deepest hurt you’ve ever felt?
Trying to move on from this head and heart space is difficult, but I know it’s good and healthy and why I decided to try and move on. Why I decided to try to hope. In the end what’s at the end of the tunnel is worth it. Spoiler alert.
I wrote in reference to one Switchfoot song earlier, and another comes to mind now as well. Their song “Restless” off the same album Vice Verses. I preached and ended up using these lyrics as the landing point during my time in Seattle. It stuck for me as a good anchor point in that text. Goodness, I miss preaching and teaching and simply finding the heart of the text and leading from there. These words still ring true in my Spirit today.
”Until the sea of glass we meet, at last completed and complete, the tide of tear and pain subside - laughter drinks them dry. I'll be waiting, anticipating, all that I aim for, what I was made for. With every heartbeat all of my blood bleeds running inside me - looking for you.”
The truth is I am looking for wholeness, joy, true hope. A dry spot from anguish. I am longing for that space which is free from loneliness and from feeling less than. I long for Jesus to be near to me. Not far, not at arm’s length and not while I feel shame from nearly a decade of work and growth and Go(o)d things?
I find myself here like I shared at the beginning of this reflection waiting to hear back about work, applying for another job, and wondering how far my savings can go. Yet, I’ve got a roof over my head, family nearby, a wife I lay next to each night after we play Mario Wonderland and laugh at our kitten who has found a new warm place on the dry towels. I find myself contemplating If I’m ready to return to a church community. If I even know how to be in that world anymore. I’m wondering if I’ll ever be able to read a collection of texts that I loved so much because I loved the One who inspired them. I wonder if they won’t make anger or pain well up in me instantly. I wonder a lot of things these days, barely a faint shadow of a prayer in my time in the car or staring off into space.
I wrote a few lines last time I started writing this piece and I’ll leave them as a close. Asking whether or not God wants to consume me and wondering if that’s good or not so good or maybe the only good you and I can ever know.
Are You chasing gravity, swallowing me whole?
Are You coming gradually to make me a ghost?
