Restlessness

I am awake. I am in agony. It's 5 am, and while many people deliberately get up at this God-forsaken hour, I am not one of them. I've been up for about 45 minutes. Contemplating what a restless night feels like... How can I explain this in a way you understand?

For me, sometimes restlessness is like reading a book. And I get to this line and all the words are jumbled, like they're in the wrong order. And the sentence doesn't make sense. So I read it again.

And then I forget what I just read. So I read it again.

And then I realize that something is terribly wrong and I must have missed a lot of information. I realize I'm 50 pages ahead of where I left off. But instead of going back, I just read it again.

I try sounding out each word slowing. I say them in a different order on purpose. I try to suss out every possible meaning of this horrible sentence.

And then I read it again.

I read it until my mind goes numb. Or fuzzy.

I read it until I get angry in my sleep because I don't know what it means.

I read it until I get so frustrated because I keep on, keep on, keep on trying and everything is useless.

And for hours, my life is a circular riot of evil in my mind. I spin in my bed, 'round and 'round and 'round... I spin so much I feel kinda nauseous. And time is always always corrupted, disrupted, interrupted. I spin for what feels like hours without end, and realize I've been half-awake for only and hour. I spin and feel like I just having trouble falling asleep, like it's only been a few minutes of torture, and realize I've been half-asleep all night.

And sleep becomes of word of many meanings. I "sleep" but feel like I've been awake all night (that's how I feel now...). I call this half-awake. And half-asleep is what happens when I'm definitely asleep but my mind is trapped. I'm clawing at my consciousness and my dreaming is a reflection of my mental anguish. When I wake up, I feel like I've been awake all night. So maybe there really isn't a difference. But it feels different. And sometimes when I'm half-asleep I'm unconscious enough to the point that I keep my husband up with my spinning and my restlessness, but I can't shake out of it. I'll persist to disrupt him all night, giving us both a bad night's sleep...

I am aching for real sleep. But it seems the only times I sleep are when I'm under the influence of something sedative. Tylenol PM and Advil PM are my most frequently used drug. The doctor also prescribed me Benadryl because it's a safe, non-addictive drug that will knock me out. But I have to take two. Just taking one is like asking for a night of spinning. Anyway, I'm out of those, I'm gonna call for a refill tomorrow. Today... because it is today now.

Anyway, the Prolific Nocturne writes again. At least I always have that. If I can't sleep, I can write. Which is pretty much all I do...

Worst. Day. Ever.

I literally want to crawl under a rock and cease to exist.

I don't think I'm strong enough.

I am EPIC FAIL.

The Year I Turned 16…

...was invariably the best year of my life. It was 2004. My family was still traversing the U.S. Visiting every Independent Baptist Church that would take us, raising support for our impending missionary endeavor in England. I was a junior in High School. My brother was 7 years old. And, I didn’t know it, but life was good.

I was a baby Christian and the whole world seemed alight and alive! I started experiencing - for the first time ever - true joy. Freedom in Christ. A relationship with God… not just religion.

On the day of my actual birthday, my parents drove several hours out of their way to take me to my favorite city in the world: CHICAGO! I have no idea why I chose this as my #1 spot. It’s cold and windy and has the worst winters ever (3 things I utterly despise). But there is something about it that completely enchants me. One day, I hope to live there. For 6 months, a year. Whatever. Anyway, we went to Ed Debevic’s (I know - total cliché!) and drove around the city. It was wonderful. My parents had thrown a mini-surprise party for me a few weeks earlier at a little church in Dothan, AL. And while I loved the people there, they weren’t close friends. The day in Chicago was truly a special treat. The real celebration.

The year was, by no means, perfect. In August, we were back in South Florida packed our bags as these were our last days in the U.S. I went on my last trip with my friends in the youth group to Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure. Just miles from home, our church bus was hit by an SUV and landed in a nearby canal. Three boys died in the accident. It was tragic. But that night my best friend trusted Christ as her Savior. And for that alone- it was all worth it. That happened Saturday, August 7, 2004. And Monday, August 9 - we flew to England.

My year in England was amazing. Completely life changing. I made some of my best friends and memories here.

Miriam: She was the greatest, godliest example and friend to me - who even now puts me to shame. I was in her wedding last Christmas.

Steve: Mr. Down to Earth. He made me smile on days I didn’t want to get out of bed.

Mike & Becki: both good friends, as a couple and as individuals. Mike’s testimony and faith completely blew my mind. And Becki’s passion and adventuresome spirit fueled mine.

Amber: we were supposed to travel the world together. Next year - 2010! But she got married Saturday. And I’ve been married over a year now. And that doesn’t really allow for uprooting oneself and backpacking the globe for months on end. Shame, too. It would’ve been fun!

Mrs. Gritts: an inspiring woman if ever there was one. I am thoroughly convinced there is nothing she can’t do. I spent the majority of my time there saying, “When I grow up, I want to be Mrs. Gritts.” She pushed me outside my comfort zone to achieve above and beyond anything I could imagine.

Nathan: the coolest, deepest, awesomest kid and now grown-up I will ever know. I thought I’d be ministering to him in the youth group, but he totally ministered to me. His passion and zeal brought more people to Jesus than anyone I’ve ever personally known. He rocked my world.

Dakota: my baby brother, this kid strengthened my prayer life. The fear - the absolute terror - that we would lose him was an ever present battle of faith until he was probably 6 months old or a year. A very complicated pregnancy. A complicated infancy - I have never loved a human being more. Getting to watch him grow and learn with mature eyes (which I didn’t have when my other brother was growing up) has been a huge highlight in my life.

Damian Jr.: This kid - my other brother - had the misfortune of being born while I was in the throes of mastering my only-childness. He was cursed with being a boy and being born the day before my birthday. Our early years together were marked by resentment, strife, and a lot of hostility. But in England, we grew a lot in appreciation of one another. I walked him to and from school everyday. I learned to be a better sister. I am still learning. But truly Dazza is awesome. :)

My Parents: Damian and Ruth Ann Pickett are the best parents I could ever have asked for. But this became increasingly evident during my stint as an MK. My dad was a good guy, but now I started hearing him preach from the Bible. There’s a whole lot of pride that accompanies seeing your father behind a pulpit. He is one of the best preachers I ever had. And trust me, I’ve heard A LOT! He was a great counselor, advice-giver, teacher, movie date, dancer, TV show marathon partner, and scrambled eggs maker, particularly during this time of my life.

My mom is my hero. She got saved as a missionary on deputation. She is brave and strong and wise about so many things. If it weren’t for her, I’d still be deceiving myself with guilt-riddled religiosity and no relationship with God. Her testimony is publish-worthy. The world should hear about my great mother and her great God. Seeing how awesomely God has worked in her life challenges and encourages me daily. It took us a long time, but today I can say she’s my best friend.

I love my parents.

My 16^th year was a year of learning and growing for me spiritually, socially, musically, culturally, academically, and who know how many other ways! I got involved in my church - working in the youth group, teaching Sunday school, discipling kids, hosting families and friends in our home, organizing music for church. Heck - this is when I started writing music!

It was a beautiful year, my Sweet Sixteenth. I long to recapture those days. To bring my love for God and passion for ministry back to where it was then. To feel the joy of life coursing through my veins. To look out at my future with eager anticipation. To be hopeful. Happy. Young. Brace. Fearless. Dreaming. Innocent. It was the best year of my life, and I doubt anything could ever top it.