Distracted Head

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Tormented. my brain feels tormented. this isn’t something I would feel comfy sharing with my best friends, but I feel like I can share it on here for some reason. Because I’m writing. that’s why. someone once said, you ARE a writer. it’s not something you choose to do. Writers simply must write. that’s what I feel like. If i don’t write this down and get it out of my head, I may never be able to “function properly.” I’m not even sure what that means. Anyone who knows me or my writing understands that my thought process can take off on a tangent quicker than a beagle on a scent (for the country folks) or faster than Kim Kardashian on diamonds (for the city folks). I am undecided on anything you ask me today, “Do you want some coffee? ummmm…it…well…I ….” My stomach is literally growling to the point of nausea because I can’t make up my mind as to what I wish to feed it. I open the fridge door and just stare, only to realize that i’ve been standing there for minutes. When I was younger, adults would get on my case about focusing and completing a thought. My dad would ask why I couldn’t just finish one task, from the start to the end. Beats me…I still don’t know. I have an idea of course. In college, I was asked whether or not I thought I had ADD. “What? ADD? I don’t think…heeeeeeey, I like your boots! What were we talking about?”
I never wanted the diagnosis or the label so I never took the test…actually I think I may have taken the test, but never picked up the results. *chuckle. I was already on to something else. People will tell you that they have ADD and joke about it, but the truth is, when my brain starts to feel tormented is when I have to stop, slow down, and realize I’m not in this all by my lonesome. I think we all have “quirks” or “wiring” like that that causes us to need God. After all, if my brain never felt like this, i wouldn’t know His extreme and unexplainable peace.
I have attempted to read my Bible 3 times today, but couldn’t due to my distracted head. I don’t want any poor me’s as I hate those with a fiery passion thanks to my dad constantly telling me things like, “Pain don’t hurt, suck it up, and pull your boot straps up!” (Which FYI, makes no sense to a child, as I did not wear boots, much less ones with straps. I later changed it to “bra straps” as that made more sense to me.)
Kari Jobe sings quietly in the background about how she can find Jesus on her knees and I think that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Yet another example of me knowing what the solution is, (prayer) yet not doing it for some reason.

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