Rollercoaster

Roller coasters and I have a love-hate relationship. I love to ride them, but I hate the feeling of my stomach in my mouth. I'm the person that people laugh at when they watch the video after. 

Before the ride launches off I get into position- hunch my body over the foam padded lap bar, clench every muscle I have in my abdomen and legs and begin to take deep breaths. I pity the person who sits next to me, behind me or in front of me on such rides. They know not what they get to experience. The ride begins. My breathing gets heavier with every clank of the coaster nearing the top. The short stop before the coaster pummels down the track is when the thought, "Can I get off now?" crosses my mind. We begin to wind our way through flips and turns and that, oh so dreaded, drop into the abyss. My mouth opens and a car alarm-like noise goes off and does not stop. (This sound I can not repeat even if I tried.) The ride comes to a stop. I close my mouth, wipe the terrified look from my face and through the strands of my strawberry blonde hair I scream, "Let's do it again!".

Unlike physical roller coasters that I freakishly love, I do not like emotional roller coasters. I don't know why I even am on one. Why did I allow myself to board such a thing? I do not like the way I feel now. I get all emotional over the silliest things. I am very fragile, sensitive and my heart is constantly aching. 

I am not comfortable in any place. There is no one or nothing safe to turn to other than God. I feel like I am stuck on this ride. I have no other option than to let the roller coaster run its course. I'm just praying it ends soon. I don't know how much I can handle.