Losing the Answers

I have left a world behind-a world inside me and a world outside of me-and the wounds inside continue to bleed while I go about my life.

I don't know how to tell people that inside I'm falling apart when to them the wounds seem like they came from an imaginary friend.

These people don't understand how powerful brainwashing can be, how damaging abuse from a religious institution can be to one's psyche.

I'm trying to find my footing and my place and my beliefs and my next step.

You see, I lost my Reason for Existence, my Clear Answer to All of Life's Perplexing Questions.

Even then I still thought I was comfortable with the raw paradox of Divinity, but I had simply not experienced enough of the beautiful, painful, complicated, messy world.

Meanwhile, the dog still needs to be walked, the bills need to be paid, the dishes must be done, the career must be tended to, my husband needs my presence, and on and on and on.

If I told you I was tired, and I tried to explain why, would you understand what it means to be wearied in your soul?

Have pity on me. I used to have all of the answers. Then I had most of the answers. Then I had some of the answers.

Now I have none. I hold my fingers over my lips and in my silence I cry with groanings too deep for words,

MERCY UPON THOSE EXPERIENCING THIS FEARSOME AGONY,

for all those who
lost the Answer
and our finding ourselves.