Wanna Ride In My Trans Am?

Travis is about 2 weeks into a mustache. He came home from work today full of quirk and hilarity. For those of you who know him, this will be nothing new- for those of you who don't, meet Travis Decker.

Initially he seduced me with this sweet poem (off the cuff- you know how he do):

Load the dishwasher
Do the dishes
With this mustache
I get all the bishes

Cut the peppers
Stuff the oven
With this mustache
I get all the lovin

Toast the bread
Spread the butter
With this mustache
I could bang your mother

(Not offense mom, he isn't talking about you- he is merely being relative. Also, I had to change the verb in that last line to something a little less R rated, cause I am just not that kind of blog.)

He went on to quote himself from a conversation at work:

"While you guys are playing call of duty I'm busy doing man stuff like having sex and growing a mustache."

Here is a quick picture documentary so you know he is legit:

Oh how I love this man of mine.

Dear God,

I just finished up Mere Christianity by CS Lewis. He spends a lot of time in the end talking about losing yourself in order to find yourself. Giving yourself up so that you may gain your real self. The one who is found only in Christ. My heart likes this idea. It sounds selfless and whole. Losing myself, in order to gain you, sounds exactly like what I was purposed to do from the start. My head thinks this idea is ridiculous. How does one, lose oneself, when oneself is the whole of what one is made of? I am not made of you, you just live in me. How do I throw away the me you created to live in, in order to become more like you? Do you see my confusion? How do I stop thinking of myself if I have to think of myself in order to live? I want to understand. More than that I want to be able to act this out. If you gave me my dreams, do I only reach them by throwing them away? Do I only become the person I want to be by stopping my own lame attempts, and admitting that they are just that, lame? Is it really possible to submerse myself so fully in you that all my passions and dreams are met just by existing as your daughter? Are my passions your passions? Sometimes I hear that you gave them to me, that they are with purpose. But if I am to lose myself, that means believing that maybe my ideas aren't your ideas. I suppose that would be okay. I don't however suppose I will fully understand this concept as a whole.
Do you mean that losing myself may mean, instead of mentally checking out for afternoon when my children are driving me mad, I stay and display my love and affection towards them by giving them even MORE attention despite their complete and utter annoyance? Do you mean I should not be so concerned with "me time", with my needs and want and desires....and just think about yours? What you would want me to say and do? This clearly is not my nature- I suppose you are suggesting that I do all these things completely unnaturally, until they become part of who I am genuinely. I "fake it till I make it".
You have guessed by now that I do have some understanding of all this- even if in my first paragraph I seemed like a fish out of water. I get it. I mean, I don't GET IT, but I get it. That is not to say I am any good at it. I'm not. The little bit of you that I have accomplished displaying at any point in my life is only by grace- because truthfully I am a disaster. And, I think that is close to where you want me to be. I don't think I will always be a disaster- in fact there have been times in my life when I was much less of a disaster than I am now- it is only when I become pious about any of it that things go really downhill. It is when I become really good, that I think I am good enough. It is at that time I end up back where I started, as a complete disaster.
I am rambling. What I need is this: I need you to show me how to lose me. I need you to teach me how to let go of what I think I so desperately need. I need you to make sure I stay as honest about all of this as I am in this very moment. I need you to remind me that it isn't about devotional time, or praying or reading or listening to sermons (even though those are important components)- but it is all about remaining open with myself and you and all your other kids about where I am and the fact that I can't do it alone. I need you to keep showing me you- even if I don't always recognize whats happening.
Show me how to stop leading, and just follow.

Love,
Brooks

Music is the Road Map to Memory.

Bleachers,
9th grade.
I failed PE that year,
But I did write
"God is dead"
In permanent marker
On the wood where I sat.
Cause I'm just a teenage dirt bag,
Baby.

Your bed,
Surrounded by Christmas lights
Colored, not white.
Is that why they call me
Sullen girl?
I am an alien here,
From the octopuses garden
In the sea.

You keep this love.
You make me want to stay.

Studying the backseat
Of a buick.
This interior is plush.
And you're a creep,
And I'm just like
An angel.

Uncle Vito's,
Half pepperoni half Hawaiian.
It makes me wanna
Kick off my shoes
And run in bare feet.

Hotels and humidity,
Ingredients for delicious armpits.
It's cool though,
You got the top down
Seat back
Rollin in your Cadillac.

Ticks and Tocks Mean Irreversible Endings.

Time cannot be kept
You cannot hold it
Lock it away
In order to make it stop
It slips under doors
And out of key holes
For a moment you may feel
As though your grip
Is sufficient
As if the smiles
On the faces
Of your babies
Shall be kept frozen
In your own mind
They won't
They will roam in and out
Never as clearly
As the moment you thought
"I must make sure to remember this."
One day you will wake up
Without noise and nonsense
Without cold little feet
Grazing your legs
Or incessant talking
About dreams of mermaids
And the insatiable need
For a proper breakfast, stat
One day you will realize
Although time cannot be kept
It should have been more cherished

We will wonder
How we missed so much
Why we didn't breath in joy
Like air
Why we didn't work harder
To laso time into
Submission
Or atleast
Build more sufficiant doors
To lock it behind

Remembering.

Most of you know my ongoing struggle with depression, anxiety and OCD. I don't mention the OCD much, but that is probably the biggest problem these days. I am not compulsive, I deal primarily with obsessive thinking...if you can legitimately call that a disorder. I think terrible, ugly, awful things- for no reason and then I get anxious about having thought them. Anyhow, that isn't the point of this. So, I have had this on and off war with medication. To be on, or not to be on. I currently am, and it is working well 3 weeks out of every month. Perhaps you can guess the one week it does not take full effect. I am not giving you a hint.
Nothing major changes that particular week- life just becomes a bit more of a struggle. My thinking is a bit out of control and I can feel my anxiety peaking for no reason at all. It feels a lot worse that it actually is, after having 3 good weeks in a row. I became agitated today with my anxiety. I was just pissed off that I was dealing with it. I kept trying to figure out why I had to have one bad week. Why everything couldn't just go as it should regardless of what time of the month it is. Can I not just get a break? I gave in- I am on the meds. I am working not to feel like a complete and utter giver-upper for caving to pharmaceuticals- CAN THEY NOT JUST DO THEIR JOB ALL MONTH?!?!!?
Then I remembered being off meds. I thought about lying in bed just waiting to crash. Just waiting for God to cut the strings and allow me to hit the bottom. I imagine Tom Cruise from Mission Impossible. I was just hanging, inches from the floor- knowing at any moment I would no longer be suspended at all. And then what? A mental institution? I know that sounds dramatic, particularly if you have never dealt with severe mental issues- but I was sure my mind was going to win, and it would be the death of me. Only, it didn't and it wasn't, and I NEVER hit bottom. My nose did not so much as graze the floor. I have been in that same place a handful of times in my life, and God has never dropped me. I remembered as I cursed the dreaded "week", that if I can get through months and months of hanging by a thread, I can surely get through a week. Not even just get through, but conquer. I may have to pull up my boot straps, throw up a few more prayers, and focus a little more on deep breaths, but we got this. I need to be thankful for what I have. Thankful that somehow humans have created the proper mixture of chemical compounds to keep me from spending everyday in bed, missing this precious life. Thankful that even if my hormones get a bit out of whack- it's just a bit, just enough to keep me on my toes. Just enough to remind me that yes, medicine is a good thing- but God is the best thing...only He can help me renew my mind every day, of every week, of every month.