Too fast—grinding and rumbling. I am greeted with metal on metal as I drive around town. All had been going well, no problems, but then one day I am caught off guard by something very wrong—and there is danger of not slowing down or stopping in time to prevent catastrophe.
Cars, right? Always causing grief and more expenses. But that is only a segway into a deeper occurrence in my life. I am not proud to or confident in sharing this, but I am no longer hiding as I used to. I hold the hope that it may help someone somewhere.
Too fast—grinding and rumbling. I stayed out the past three weekends too late after my bedtime (self-imposed for health and sanity) drinking. I have been celebrating my journey off of medication, but find my progress compromised. My mind grinds against the past, dredging up past pain, forcing me to relive it. My thoughts rumble—pain uncomprehended. The rumbling blends into the sobs that wrack my body as I curl up in bed—agonizing in the past despair, somehow unable to let go. Too fast—a year’s progress seemingly gone in two weeks. I know truth, yet struggle to be free in it. Is this because of the alcohol? Decreased meds? Lack of sleep? All of them combined? I do not know. There is danger here of catastrophe if I do not replace my thoughts soon enough because I will not be able to stop.
I find new parts to replace my brake pads, planning on fixing them with a trusted mentor. I am dependent on another for tools and knowledge. I cannot do this alone.
I find new thoughts to replace my mental brake pads, seeing the need to seek help from a trusted mentor. I am depended on someone else for the tools and knowledge to lean wholly on truth to slow and stop mhy racing mind. I cannot do this alone, Father.
“Remember your leaders, who spoke the word of God to you. Consider the outcome of their way of life and imitate their faith.” ~ Hebrews 13:7