My mom took me to mass at St. Mary Magdalene's today. There's two things wrong with that sentence. The car ride over there was interesting in itself. My mom was trying to pry details out of me that I did not want to give her. I kept yelling at myself for not hiding certain things. My mom seemed very amused by the whole situation. I was not. My life makes my head spin. When we arrived at the church I was calm. I liked the feeling of being invisible. I liked that no one knew me and I felt like I didn't need to hide. But at the same time I longed for some sort of familiarity. It was like my heart was being tugged in two different directions. I found my mom and I a seat and I sat down and tried to take in my surroundings. I was filled with unimaginable emptiness. Week two. A video played before mass and I thought to myself, "If this becomes my parish, maybe I'll get involved with that". Mass started and I sang the opening song with as much devotion as I could manage at that moment. Last week I couldn't utter a word. This week I sang. I used my perfectly out of tune voice and lifted it up to God. I focused on every word. But nothing. I couldn't feel anything.
You have to understand how Catholic I am. How attentive I am at every mass. How it brings me to tears and sets my heart on fire. The truth is that during mass Heaven meets Earth. Being Catholic and understanding and believing what I do is my greatest gift. So for me to know these truths and experience what I'm experiencing does not make sense. I'm fighting to feel Him. But He isn't there. I'm just empty.
During communion I sat in my chair and I was singing with my whole heart. I wanted Heaven to hear me. I was pleading. My prayer was broken up when I heard someone sniffle and I looked up and noticed my mom was crying. I looked at her and I touched her hand and asked her what was wrong but she just shook her head. I wondered if she felt something.
When mass ended and I was sitting in my mom's car with the bulletin in my hand I couldn't help but look through it. I was looking for only something in particular. Youth Group. I wonder if they would want me.
Tonight as I sat eating dinner by myself I had a thought. I was taken back ironically to the first time I had attempted suicide and I was in the behavioral health center. I was 13 and they had just asked me where I saw myself in 10 years. I remember being hesitant in my response. Even though I knew what I wanted. I think I honestly always deep down know what I ultimately want. The lady leading the session interpreted my scattered response for me and my hesitation and said the following, more or less. I have a good memory. "You're alone in an apartment. Maybe a studio or something small. And somehow some way you've managed to make it. But you just don't give yourself credit, do you? But you long for this sort of freedom where you can express yourself in ways that you aren't even sure of yet. You want to do great things. I imagine, actually, you want to save the world. What are you afraid of Stephanie? You want to get out, so get out. Don't allow people to limit your potential. You've been here less than two hours and you've already made a difference. I'm not sure you have even the slightest clue who you are and who you're capable of being."
I'm not quite 23 and my life is not where I expected it to be. At all. In any way. But I do have this apartment. And I'm almost always alone. I have a degree. And I do think I can save the world. I just need my heart to start beating again. Because I know exactly what I'm supposed to do with my life but I can't do it if my heart feels empty when I walk into a church.
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