Tuesday, August 03, 2004
In the Closet
Do you ever feel that you can't deal with anyone or anything? I do. Today feels that way a bit. Sometimes I get tired of the need to BE something. Someone's mom, someone's sister, someone's friend, someone's wife. I don't want to have to fill what I think is the responsibility of those roles. Just give me a break.
One time when I was lonely and lost I went to a friend's house party. Didn't know anyone except him and his roomates. Bad place to be when feeling insecure. I needed something to surround me...something certain and "impenetrable". I soon found myself upstairs in a closet. No one would ever find me there. It was safe.
I sat on the floor of the closet, pricked by fallen hangers, crunching on discarded term papers, poked by belt buckles, trying not to smell the shoe odour. I didn't care too much though, because the environment matched my mood. Soon my solace was disturbed when I heard the guys going to bed. I was frozen in the closet, not wanting to even breathe. I couldn't pop out of the closet, especially not knowing how unclothed I might find them. I crouched in the closet almost another 2 hours, until I was certain they had fallen asleep. As I crept out in the darkness, one of the them stirred and asked the other "what was that noise?" Seeing my stealthing shape, the other had figured out what was going on and reached out to push my head down. "Santa and his reindeer on the roof. Go back to sleep." I sat for another 5 minutes until I knew I could make a sure getaway.
I thought I was alone in this need to be in a space so tight that nothing could penetrate it. Much later I embarrassingly recounted this story to a girlfriend of mine, who confessed that once she had that very same feeling and curled up in her daughter's crib.
If you don't know what I'm talking about then this will seem stupid. If you can identify with this, know that you are not alone. What I have learned now that I didn't know then, is to take Jesus into the closet with me. It hurts too much to be in there alone. Let His arms enfold me and be my strength. Not bitch to Him about how crappy things are for me, but let Him love me. Hard to do when we don't want to be loved...and yet we so desperately need to be.
One time when I was lonely and lost I went to a friend's house party. Didn't know anyone except him and his roomates. Bad place to be when feeling insecure. I needed something to surround me...something certain and "impenetrable". I soon found myself upstairs in a closet. No one would ever find me there. It was safe.
I sat on the floor of the closet, pricked by fallen hangers, crunching on discarded term papers, poked by belt buckles, trying not to smell the shoe odour. I didn't care too much though, because the environment matched my mood. Soon my solace was disturbed when I heard the guys going to bed. I was frozen in the closet, not wanting to even breathe. I couldn't pop out of the closet, especially not knowing how unclothed I might find them. I crouched in the closet almost another 2 hours, until I was certain they had fallen asleep. As I crept out in the darkness, one of the them stirred and asked the other "what was that noise?" Seeing my stealthing shape, the other had figured out what was going on and reached out to push my head down. "Santa and his reindeer on the roof. Go back to sleep." I sat for another 5 minutes until I knew I could make a sure getaway.
I thought I was alone in this need to be in a space so tight that nothing could penetrate it. Much later I embarrassingly recounted this story to a girlfriend of mine, who confessed that once she had that very same feeling and curled up in her daughter's crib.
If you don't know what I'm talking about then this will seem stupid. If you can identify with this, know that you are not alone. What I have learned now that I didn't know then, is to take Jesus into the closet with me. It hurts too much to be in there alone. Let His arms enfold me and be my strength. Not bitch to Him about how crappy things are for me, but let Him love me. Hard to do when we don't want to be loved...and yet we so desperately need to be.
// posted by Annette @ 11:59 a.m. 
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As a little girl I frequently hid in an empty cupboard in the kitchen. It was next to the stove and often nice and warm, with a fragrant scent from the wood. Mom was close by, what could be better. Wish I still could go there sometimes.
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