Once I thought the fog couldn't get any worse

it did.

And now all I want to do is cry. God told me to be weak. I don't like that. I like being strong. This is what I said to Eddie: I've always been the talented one, the funny one, the smart one, the spiritual one, the innocent one, the strong one. And now I do things like lay on my roomate's bed and cry. Or sit in prayer and have no idea what we are really praying for because my heart is pounding in my ears and my tears are streaming down my face. Or try to write songs and end up in a puddle on the floor.

Ignite is tonight. I told Austin I can't be on worship team tonight. The truth is, it's because during worship services in the last month all I've wanted to do was sit in the corner and cry. I can't stand on stage pretending that I mean the things I sing. I'm lost. I *know* things, but I don't *believe* them. I had a long talk with Amanda. All I could say were things that I have known since I was a baby, but I don't believe. It's so hard to say that. It's hard to confess that. It's not the strong thing to do, the "christian thing" to do.

ugh...