Tuesday, December 28, 2010

I am Not a Juicy Hermit Crab

I hate being squeezed. Hugs are one thing, squeezes another. Emotions squeeze so tight; they don't stop even when there's nothing left to squeeze out. It's a break at the press, then back to it again.

Ever since April, when I went to the Storymakers Conference, I felt different. Something changed for me, that weekend. James and I both had an experience during one of the conference workshops that I won't share because it's one of those things that are better left to marinate in the sauce of privacy, but it was one of those life-changing things, something you know you'll never forget.

I've struggled since then, with life here as I know it. There are people I care about and love, but I desperately want a new space to grow. I'm a hermit crab who is being squeezed into hermit juice, shell cracking yet holding strong, and there's no new shell as far as the eye can see.

need to get out.

My sister is moving; the one who lives three minutes from me. She'll be moving two hours away. Not far, and not across the country, but still--underneath, I kind of believed that if you don't take something for granted and are thankful for it every day, that it would stay the same.

Yeah, I didn't really believe that, but something deep within me hoped. Our daughters adore each other. Karen is the only thing that has anchored my tether to our city, the only thing pulling at keeping me here.

Now, I'm adrift.

Pulled and tossed by the waves, each one washes over my head, pretending to be kind by washing off the salt from my eyes, but leaving more deposits. Soon, I will weigh too much and drown.

I find myself crying during the week far too often.

Some may say, "You sound depressed." You'd better believe it. I'm tired of pretending I'm not. I'm fighting against it every day, the squeezing, seagulls pecking at my shell, snatching bits of me because I'm bursting at the seams.

I need a new shell.


Karen said...

Thanks for making me cry too! It is nice to have a sister so close by, and I know what you mean. Hopefully it will be the start of something good and new. For both of us. It won't be the same, but thankfully we'll still be able to see each other often.
I love you, Becca!

L.T. Elliot said...

I know this must have been hard for you to write, to feel, to live--but you said it all so beautifully. I'm sorry for the squeezing. I'm sorry for the heartache. I love you. Very, very much.

Kimberly said...

As often, okay, always, I'm with L.T.. So sorry you've been hurting and fighting, so desperately hoping you find that new shell and THRIVE.

Something I'm slowly grasping is that change hurts. Every single time it hurts. And the bigger the change...well yes, the bigger the hurt. But it's the big, hurty life changes that have always lead to the most joy for me. The amazing oh-yes-I-CAN-do-this feeling and the sweetness of realizing you are and can be so much more than you thought.

You'll look back at your hermit crab days someday and be awed by the how small you were by comparison to who you grew into. Because you won't be a hermit crab anymore, dear friend. Your Heavenly Father has far grander plans for you than that. ((hugs))

Kazzy said...

oh, I am sorry you are feeling squeezed, but I appreciate your honesty.

I had a dream last night that we moved to Kansas (don't remember why). Part of me was thrilled to be closer to my parents and siblings in VA, but the other part of me was heart-broken. Over the past 17 years we have lived here in Springville (outside of Provo) I have had early periods of "ugh", but I have grown into it, and it has grown ON me. It is a tough thing to find the right shell. Does your husband ever talk about a possible future locale change? Where would you most like to be?

kbrebes said...

Beautiful imagery, Rebecca! Please send me your email address to kbrebes@aol.com because I don't have it and can't find it. Thanks!

Amy Ramsey said...

Oh my dear sweet sister. How I love you so much. I know we don't ever get to see each other, but you are never a skip, a beat away from my heart...

Helmbunch said...

Oh my dear friend. I have felt just that way so many times. Bill used to call it "the old gypsy blood making your feet itch" syndrome. Each time I felt closed in and wanting change so bad it hurt, I wondered how long it would be before there was relief. All I can tell you is that after 20 years of wandering, I can look back and see that the Lord had a plan for me. He has a plan for you as well. I know he does, with everything in me, I know this. I cry for your pain. You are so important to me and my family. We love you. Know this. I will keep praying that you find your new shell. Even if that shell is far away from me. Sending hugs!!

Heidi said...

I feel that the really painful changes are the ones that bring the most blessings. They make us stronger and capable of so much more. Besides, the Lord has little use for people with narrow experience. Not to mention, you'll have more resonance in what your write because you've been there. Meanwhile, I would seriously consider medication (you have kids to raise, after all). At least try 5-HTP. You can find it in the vitamin section of the pharmacy. I couldn't have gotten by without it this past decade . ..