A few weeks ago I decided to run away from home for a few
days. I received some really bad news. So bad that when I heard it, I began to
shake and then just kind of went numb. I ran away to my sister’s house and
announced to her that I didn’t want to talk about it. She was amazing and let me stay as long as I
needed to. I wanted to stay forever, but eventually you have to grow up and go
home and face life. Somewhere out along the I-10 it seemed like the closer I
got to home the more the numbness began to wear off. The shaking returned along
with uncontrolled tears and anger. I
didn’t deserve this, and I knew I didn’t. I wanted to pull my car off on to a
dirt road out the middle of the desert and get out and scream at anything that
would listen, a lizard, a snake, a scorpion it didn’t matter. A thousand and
one thoughts raced through my head. I glanced up at a sky that looked
completely void of life or anyone or anything who cared and with every cell in
my body I yelled “F____! I proceeded to “F this, and F that.” In the back of my
head I realized I looked like a crazy women; 50 years old, driving through the
dessert yelling profanities at a universe that probably wasn’t listening. And
it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that no one saw my dance of insanity out in
the desert, or that no one showed up with any answers to my problems. It was
like the freedom you feel when you are alone; dancing to the radio, completely
lost in the melody. Having no partner to dance with is hardly the issue. But, the thing of it is, I felt better. Well,
most of me felt better, my throat hurt for 3 days.Forgiveness
A few weeks ago I decided to run away from home for a few
days. I received some really bad news. So bad that when I heard it, I began to
shake and then just kind of went numb. I ran away to my sister’s house and
announced to her that I didn’t want to talk about it. She was amazing and let me stay as long as I
needed to. I wanted to stay forever, but eventually you have to grow up and go
home and face life. Somewhere out along the I-10 it seemed like the closer I
got to home the more the numbness began to wear off. The shaking returned along
with uncontrolled tears and anger. I
didn’t deserve this, and I knew I didn’t. I wanted to pull my car off on to a
dirt road out the middle of the desert and get out and scream at anything that
would listen, a lizard, a snake, a scorpion it didn’t matter. A thousand and
one thoughts raced through my head. I glanced up at a sky that looked
completely void of life or anyone or anything who cared and with every cell in
my body I yelled “F____! I proceeded to “F this, and F that.” In the back of my
head I realized I looked like a crazy women; 50 years old, driving through the
dessert yelling profanities at a universe that probably wasn’t listening. And
it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that no one saw my dance of insanity out in
the desert, or that no one showed up with any answers to my problems. It was
like the freedom you feel when you are alone; dancing to the radio, completely
lost in the melody. Having no partner to dance with is hardly the issue. But, the thing of it is, I felt better. Well,
most of me felt better, my throat hurt for 3 days.who we are
Welcome to The Peacewriter.
We all want to belong somewhere, to someone. It is a basic human need.
If you have ever experienced a period of doubt or questioned your beliefs in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, you know that this is not a minor thing. It is tantamount to a crisis, and one that can be life altering.
Lose your testimony, and you stand to lose everything that matters.
There are those who exist on the fringes of the Church, who feel disenfranchised, even unwanted. If you are single, gay or lesbian, feminist, atheist, or uncorrelated, it can be tough to feel like a part of the community. You may feel that you do not belong.
You belong here.
If you have ever loved someone who endured a faith crisis, you know that there are a lot of gray areas. Uncertainty is the dominant force; black and white become moot points.
Those who have walked the same path share a common bond, understood by few who have not traveled the same road.This is the place to share common experiences, to find a voice, to be heard. This is the place to seek after peace, and to find it in the common ties we share.
This is The Peacewriter.
Please visit, and visit often. We intend to post new submissions regularly. If you want to contact us directly, click on the Contact Page or email us at thepeacewriter@gmail.com.
We welcome your feedback and submissions.















2 comments:
This is beautiful. Soooo beautiful. Thank you for sharing this. (I do the balloon thing in a way too. I make paper airplanes and go to the capitol building and throw them off the top.)
I am almost 49 and your story could be me. I ran away about a month ago, but in a different way.
I struggle with exactly what you described. I am going to do the balloon thing because I really need to let things go right now.
Thanks for sharing your story.
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