Dear Daddy...

Dear Daddy,

I can’t do this. I just can’t do this anymore. It’s getting too hard, too complicated. I just want to quit. I know, I know. I’m supposed to do hard things. Builds character, perseverance, dependence...on you. I know, you never said life was going to be easy. I know, in fact, that you promised quite the opposite with the sure fire promises “I’ll be with you always...” and “Take heart, I’ve overcome the world!” Yup, I know that. I know a lot of things. Wanna help me figure out why all that knowing doesn’t seem to be making any difference? I can’t handle it all any more. It’s too much. It’s just too much.

Dad, I’m so stressed out. I don’t even know where to begin. I have homework and papers and quizzes and projects up to my ear lobes and I want nothing more than to curl up in your lap and fall asleep. I just want to sleep. Dad, I’m so tired! Where has my day gone? How is it that I’ve been awake for hours and have nothing done; nothing to show for it? What is my life except for a mere attempt to look like I’m alive, like I’m trying? Dad, wake me up or just let me sleep! I can’t handle the middle ground.

Dad, I’m sick. I’m sick of putting on a good face. And my good face no longer hides turmoil as much as it does the emptiness – the lack of anything else. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Nothing new. Good. God’s got it. One day at a time. We’ll get through.” All phrases. All excuses for an answer which screams “I don’t know. I don’t what what’s going on. I don’t know how I’m doing. I am numb, I don’t feel anything!” And just when the numbness starts to go away, there is radiating pain. An achy-ness like I can’t describe. It hurts so much to feel.

But I don’t even know what I’m feeling. Dad, I don’t even know what I’m angry at! I don’t even know if I can articulate why life just hurts so badly! One disappointment, followed by another. But it’s just disappointment. It’s just life! Make me get over it. There’s nothing there. My life is no worse off than anybody else’s and most days are really quite survivable in the scheme of things. In the long run, they really aren’t so bad. Why can’t I see that? Why am I wearing a mask that says I’m okay – when I’m not really okay – all while I have NO reason to NOT be okay?

Daddy, I am so lost and so confused. And I am so frustrated with you! I can’t make sense of where I’ve been – let alone make out a shadow of where I’m going. And, quite frankly, I feel totally in the dark about wherever it is you have me now. Can’t I have a hint, just a hint, about where any of this makes sense? I just want a window – even if it’s a dirty window, broken and boarded up. A window. I’m sick of this brick wall. This brick wall which confines me and traps – allows in no light and makes me feel as if there is no way out at all...