Skeletons in My Closet

I hate myself.
Behind this smile, I question
Every word, action and intent.

I hate it when people tell me
"Quit it!"
If I could, know that I would
Choose to believe;
But I feel if I turn on the switch quickly,
I failed to take the appropriate time
To process.

I would love to go to Jesus
And live life fully in the freedom
That He is enough.
I wish that I didn't need substitutes.
I wish I didn't beg for friends' company.

I won't call you.
I recognize this codependent habits,
So I dare not manipulate quality time
To position you to enable my sin.
Sometimes I can't tell if I'm trying to be a friend
Or just wishing someone would be a friend to me.

I don't know who to call
If I shared my true thoughts
Would they be too much?
Will you let my tears run their course
Or will you try to patch me so I can be on my way?

I hate the silence.
Maybe it's a lack of good communication
Or you're trying to see your availability,
But years have taught me
A lack of response is to be angry.

I hear your conversations.
How you had dinner there and here,
And sometimes I wonder why I never
Came across your mind.
Is it because I was busy;
Not married;
Don't have kids?
Or was I weird
Or did I come across as needy?
I'm sorry!

Truth is, I have learned how to be alone.
I managed my time the same way my brother does:
We play stories in our head
For the lack of friends in our stead.

I wouldn't assume you to know
The skeletons in my closet.
I wouldn't want my burdens to overcome you.
After all, the only one I need
To talk to is Jesus, right?

I feel so worse knowing that my mind
Seems to need more than Jesus.
I wish I could be perfect.
Lack the struggles I face.
Not only do I hate myself for the thoughts I battle;
I hate myself for having the battle at all.
You can tell me all you want
There is grace for our weakness.
But then, how come when I reach out,
I'm told to suffocate my pain by being silent?
Where is that in the Bible?!

I have a pain
That leads to tears.
When told they should be ignored,
My cries turn into rage.
I feel a falling down,
And I wish I could get back up.
I want to stand firmly.

Jesus, You already know
The skeletons in my closet.
Hold me close and do not
Let hell have the last laugh.
I ask You -
Help me in my unbelief!