6/04/2010

Fractured

Authenticity is the trait I value most in relationships - seeing it expressed by others, living it out myself. Being real is rarely pretty. I hope that when people show me the places where they're broken that I'm accepting instead of judgmental. The reverse isn't always true. 


Maybe I'm broken in an abundant amount of places, or maybe the way my brokenness translates is unpalatable. Every time this is ... reiterated ... to me, I have a singular, go-to, flight-or-fight reaction. 








The above posture is difficult to recover from - and not just because of sand in the ears. It's hard to live life out loud when you feel like you're always doing it wrong. Pulling your head out of ... whatever you choose to stick it in ... often requires some clean up. Sometimes I believe it would be better to just stay hidden. Granted, it's most likely dark, and possibly it smells bad, but it's safe.


Right?


But the truth is, isolation - too much of it - is a one way train ride to Crazy Town. Luckily, I have friends who will only let me buy a weekend, round-trip ticket. Friends who know me well enough to recognize that's where I'm headed emotionally/mentally, and where I'll stay if I'm not gently pulled back (or in the case of one or two individuals, kicked squarely in the ass and dragged).


I've been hiding my head for a while. This past week, people who love me noticed, and commenced to woo, cajole and persuade me that the time had come to pull it out. I did. Now I feel like I need protective pads and a helmet - I'm exposed, unprotected, defensive. 


Yesterday, I had a discussion with an old friend that led to him getting quite an earful. When we finished talking, I apologized for being so honest. He laughed, and then asked, "Why? I tell people all the time, if you can't be real, I don't want you in my life. I'm not afraid of your junk."


I felt like I was home. 


So I've pulled my head out. Here I am. Fractured. Broken. 


But real. 


And trying desperately not to be afraid of my own junk.  





26 comments:

  1. Beautiful! Knowing you're broken is a gift. Many people go through life and never see how broken they are. Those that do are the ones that shine and keep life interesting. We may do some damage along the way but knowing how broken we are allows us to step back and clean it up. I'm very broken and very real. Many don't like that.. Today that's okay with me. Love me or hate me *shrug* It's all good.
    Glad to see you back Myra!

    ReplyDelete
  2. *hugs you very tight* I'm so proud of you for putting up this post and for taking that close of a look at yourself. Never regret opening up and reaching out! It's a hard thing to do, but admirable and always cathartic. I'm so happy to know you and can't wait to get to know you better.

    You are amazing, strong and able to withstand what life throws at you. Hiding your head is something you may have learned to do in order to survive, but now is the time to hold that head up high and charge full steam into life.

    I'm glad you have friends willing to call you on where you're headed. They are so important. Keep them close.

    You are loved.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Good for you. If you'll pardon me quoting a platitude at you, I think it has a lot of truth in it: "Those who matter won't mind, and those who mind don't matter."

    ReplyDelete
  4. Oh man, what comment can match Cara's quote.... Imma say that again, "Those who matter won't mind, and those who mind don't matter."

    ReplyDelete
  5. Well, pass along my thanks to those who pulled you out. (((hugs)))

    ReplyDelete
  6. "There is a crack, a crack in everything/
    That's how the light gets in." Leonard Cohen
    Broken is okay--and human. Knowing it and being determined to keep on going? Priceless.
    Thanks for sharing so eloquently

    ReplyDelete
  7. We're all with you Myra McEntire and you know why? Even with you're head stuck in the dark, smelly underbelly of the world, you are made of awesome.

    Hang in there, this journey called Life ain't always a basket of cherries but then where would be the fascination in that?

    Thanks for sharing and for being honest. And bravo to your friends. We are blessed to have those people in our lives, are we not?

    ReplyDelete
  8. Hi Myra,

    I know we don't know each other all that well, but I think it's because I only know you from a distance that this post touched me so deeply. You see, from my vantage point, you don't look broken. You look cheerful, outgoing, together and popular.

    For those of us who seldom feel any of those things, knowing, reading in your own words that, from time to time at least, you feel none of them, gives a kind of hope: the realization that they are not as alone as they thought.

    There is hope for the fractured.

    You, my twitter friend, are a courageous woman.

    And maybe you’ve just encouraged another fractured person to pull their head out, peek around, and step out.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I have a few newly sober folks in my life. These past days has had a theme of all those people wanting to go down, underground, deep down to their dark side...quietly.

    Their challenge is to being honest with themselves, and then admitting each their own emotional position, and then throwing down a small showdown to keep themselves safely threading at the surface.

    Yes, we are allowed to throw a tantrum every once in awhile, especially if that's the only way to get our point across.

    Say it loud, say it proud,
    ...just say it.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Well I didn't know you'd gone anywhere other than rescuing very cute pups, but I'm glad you're back! We're all broken, but most of us cannot put it as eloquently as you.

    Thank God for true friends like that. We're in this together.

    ReplyDelete
  11. Glad things are looking up, whatever is happening. *Sending big fat squishy hugs*

    ReplyDelete
  12. I'm glad you have people with whom you can be authentic. No lectures, no put downs or comments that make you feel "wrong" or "broken" because you don't fit into a convenient little box, do things their way all the time, or -- heaven forbid -- are human enough to make mistakes.

    Your honesty and transparency give hope to the rest of us fractured people. It helps us know we're not alone.

    Thank you, Myra.

    ReplyDelete
  13. I gra-gree (Barti for agree) with writermomof5.
    You are such an excellent example in so many ways. In living authentically. In grace. In caring. In writing. And I only know you from afar. I can imagine what a gift you are to those who know you in person.
    You are so accepting. I have posted my brokenness. You have replied back in love and understanding and offered guidance. I appreciate that. I appreciate you.

    ReplyDelete
  14. Broken can be good. You've just proved it. (((HUGZ))) We are all truly in that same place. We are. Just different places are shattered, re-glued and re-painted.

    ReplyDelete
  15. We love you! Really, truly, love YOU for you who you are!! Broken, whole, all of you. You are an amazing friend and we can relate to how you're feeling. I think that's what binds us together as friends. We can all understand each other and support each other, as we've all been at similar positions or are in those positions now, and no matter what, we're all there on the side lines cheering each other on. HUGE MM hugs!

    ReplyDelete
  16. *gives you high five*

    Now THIS is the real Myra. The one who's afraid to show her junk, but values authenticity too much not to. The one I can be at home with. Nice to see your head above the sand. Love you!!

    ReplyDelete
  17. Love you -- You're not broken, you're just interesting. Me, I don't care for perfect people. They aren't interesting at all.

    ReplyDelete
  18. Also, I find "perfect" people threatening. Since I KNOW they aren't perfect, none of us are, I have to wonder why they're so committed to polishing up their facade and maintaining the appearance of always having it all together. No thank you. I'll take a friend who's as messy as me over someone pretending to be unbroken every single time.

    ReplyDelete
  19. A little cracked means you're not from a factory and you aren't a pod person. Hugs doll! Love you just the way you are.

    ReplyDelete
  20. Myra, I have so much junk myself and sometimes go to bad places. Fortunately, the grace of God has brought me to a place in the past few years that is wonderfully even-keeled and in perspective.

    I hope it stays that way always.

    But I want you to know I'm praying for you. And I'm not just blowing smoke when I say 'I know how you feel.'

    If we didn't have the ugliness, we wouldn't know that we were truly alive, and truly human as well. I have to keep reminding myself that only Christ is perfect, and my faith - not my deeds - is what makes me worthy and whole.

    Love you, sweet sister!

    “For in the gospel a righteousness from God is revealed, a righteousness that is by faith from first to last, just as it is written: ‘The righteous will live by faith.’” – Romans 1:17

    ReplyDelete
  21. I am so very proud of you for voicing your brokeness on here. God doesn't ask us to be perfect, so we don't have to pretend to be. I have a bunch to share w/ you about what I am learning, but won't write a book on here.

    "The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me... to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners."

    Isaiah 61:1

    ReplyDelete
  22. Knowing is half the battle and we're all broken in some way or another. It's how we pick up the pieces and move on that defines us, not the breaking. We're here for you!

    ReplyDelete
  23. To which I internally hoot and holler, "AAAAYYY-MEN!"

    ReplyDelete

Tell us everything: