Though there's not much to the concept of ranting out strangulatory depression. I haven't really felt and thought the same, but the ghosts of thoughts have been there and I don't know why. I haven't until recently felt the futility of my entire existence, or of my work, but I have been very sad. I don't know how long. Not just sad, but filled with sorrow. And not suicidally sad, but everyday, when i've felt sadness I have thought at some point, "I don't want to live any more." This thought has come up every single day and every time it has come up, I have thought, "That's not true? Why did I think that? I'm not really that sad." and even as I reason this, reasoning in reality, the subworld creeps up and says, "I'd rather be dead." Even when I disagree. I also think "I need to leave school because there's no reason for me to be here." and "I need to get out of ministry because I'm wasting my time. I hate wasting time more than anything." I really do hate wasting time, and I often hate just about everything about myself, sometimes. And I don't know why. But what really bothers me is the feeling that the spirit of depression is there, trying to tell me to kill myself and I don't believe it, but it's still there. And this especially bothers me because it seems there is the depression which isn't really mine, but just trying to get at me, and then there is real sorrow, and both are getting mixed together and difficult to distinguish.
It's just a rant. Ok, and here's one more reason I want to cut ties with everything and get out. I don't like being the problem child. I feel I should be out of the stage in which I need to complain about all my problems and on to the stage in which I help other people. I don't like taking up energy from others and absorbing time and resources just so everyone can deal with me. I hate it.
The other thing is that I can't stop feeling like an outsider. i've reallt never belonged anywhere, and in every circle i'm involved in, i feel like an outsider. i'm an outsider in my department, in my work, in my family, in my ministry, and maybe even in my church. In my family I feel like the screw-up, the one everyone's ashamed of, because if who my mother is, but even she doesn't like me or want anything to do with me. I feel like it's the role of the problem child that makes me an outsider. I'm like toxic waste, so it's hard for other people to endure. It's not really true, but I tend to feel that way, so I don't want to see my family, and I don't want to talk to my friends and make them bear how horrible I feel, because I can't stand being so pitiful or just appalling. I don't want to go to work and be useless and draining. I don't want to go to school and be depressed to the point that I can't learn. I feel sick of myself until I don't know what to do except die. It would probably be ok if I died. A lot of people would be sad, but I wonder if I already accomplished what I needed to. I don't think I have, but if I did it would be nice to be able to retire early. I could use the rest. I think I should at least have some will to live, which I do, just don't like being such a problem.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Being very upset and continuing to feel like crap.
I didn't plan this but I do agree with Will on a lot of things (Will is my friend from SLT and probably the one person who made the biggest impact on me while I was there. He's disagree with that, but it's what i think. Ok, so Christ himself made the biggest impact, but Will was well used.)
First thing I noticed that I agree with was what Will said early on. He said what he really wanted more than anything was a mentor that he could talk to (if I remember correctly) who would just listen without trying to come up with a solution or whatever. Just two weeks ago I founf I had the exact same problem. I was sick and tired of trying to explain why I was getting so upset and depressed all semester and why I felt like quitting everything I was doing only to end up in some kind of counseling session. It's like noone knew how to just listen. Instead my friends and family members analyzed, reasoned a solution and told me the answer to what I was feeling. After a while I wanted to just shout (at one person in particular, mainly) that I wasn't asking for a solution. It would have been something like, "I'm not telling you that I don't know what to do and I want you to tell me what to do. I don't want counseling. I don't want advice. Don't think I can't solve this by myself. I just want to talk it out. For me, talking through my feelings is how I come up with action. Just listen. Shut up and listen." I also learned the importance of listening to other people as well. I don't know how well I'm doing but I am acutely aware of how dangerous it is to interupt. I can't stand being interrupted in the middle of trying to make an important point. Maybe I should be more brief. maybe it's just a humbling thing. Maybe I shouldn't speak at all sometimes.
Well the other thing I agree with Will on is the loss of the desire to lead. He said that he didn't lie being tole he was a leader anymore because of what leadership entailed. I'm starting to feel like there's no reason for me to lead anything any more. But it's a feeling of enormous conflict. I don't feel any calling anywhere. I feel nothing at all. I fell like there is no anwer to all my question prayers. I still want certain things to get done. I still get inspiration, and I lot of ideas, but does that qualify as a calling? If it does then I'm just the idea person. I get millions of ideas all day every day, but I'm afraid to say anything because the few times I have I've seen them die because there was no way for me to carry them out. It's not just "That's a good idea," it's "Now arrange for it to happen and work, all by yourself, and do everything all by yourself." But I don't have the arrangement in my calling, I just have ideas, so maybe that's not a calling at all. It's the reason I want to quit. There are a lot of things that make me want to quit. And it's much darker than that.
First thing I noticed that I agree with was what Will said early on. He said what he really wanted more than anything was a mentor that he could talk to (if I remember correctly) who would just listen without trying to come up with a solution or whatever. Just two weeks ago I founf I had the exact same problem. I was sick and tired of trying to explain why I was getting so upset and depressed all semester and why I felt like quitting everything I was doing only to end up in some kind of counseling session. It's like noone knew how to just listen. Instead my friends and family members analyzed, reasoned a solution and told me the answer to what I was feeling. After a while I wanted to just shout (at one person in particular, mainly) that I wasn't asking for a solution. It would have been something like, "I'm not telling you that I don't know what to do and I want you to tell me what to do. I don't want counseling. I don't want advice. Don't think I can't solve this by myself. I just want to talk it out. For me, talking through my feelings is how I come up with action. Just listen. Shut up and listen." I also learned the importance of listening to other people as well. I don't know how well I'm doing but I am acutely aware of how dangerous it is to interupt. I can't stand being interrupted in the middle of trying to make an important point. Maybe I should be more brief. maybe it's just a humbling thing. Maybe I shouldn't speak at all sometimes.
Well the other thing I agree with Will on is the loss of the desire to lead. He said that he didn't lie being tole he was a leader anymore because of what leadership entailed. I'm starting to feel like there's no reason for me to lead anything any more. But it's a feeling of enormous conflict. I don't feel any calling anywhere. I feel nothing at all. I fell like there is no anwer to all my question prayers. I still want certain things to get done. I still get inspiration, and I lot of ideas, but does that qualify as a calling? If it does then I'm just the idea person. I get millions of ideas all day every day, but I'm afraid to say anything because the few times I have I've seen them die because there was no way for me to carry them out. It's not just "That's a good idea," it's "Now arrange for it to happen and work, all by yourself, and do everything all by yourself." But I don't have the arrangement in my calling, I just have ideas, so maybe that's not a calling at all. It's the reason I want to quit. There are a lot of things that make me want to quit. And it's much darker than that.
Monday, October 02, 2006
So I was afraid of sleeping
so here's what happened. My sleep schedule got really messed up. IT started on Thursday when I was up until 1.a.m because of the cafe. Then I woke up at 5.a.m. in order to get to work on time. After eight hours of highly inefficient work, I trudged back home. I could have gone to the bank in that time but I knew that I entirely lacked the necessary energy to go all the way to the bank and then all the way home, so I just went home. I went and took a nap at around 4.p.m. and woke up at midnight. So I stayed up a couple hours and went back to bed, waking up again at 7am. Then that day was another late night, going till, like 3am. so I slept kinda late, till, like, 9am. had another late night last night. Hopefully won't be a problem today, since I have to work tommorrow and I'd like to get to work early. I realized that as I starting to fall asleep last night that I was feeling creeped out and afraid of my dreams, or rather the way I dream.
My dreams seem to come out of a ball of old oily clay, still old and crumbly, like my brain is line with it, and my injured mind is bringing it out sad and crooked.
I was thinking, "I don't want to see the sickness of my own mind. I don't want to dream." They are full of dust. They have that triangular nausea at their center. I remember one night long ago of feeling incredibly sick about a dream I had. I was incedibly concerned with getting the sleeping area into an orderly state. I seriously wanted to throw all the wrinkled linens off because there was a sense or urgent danger in the clutter. All of a sudden I was seeing everything in clay again and in my head a voice was insisting something about people dying, like the disorder of the clay meant death. I wanted to throw up.
Last night I only saw the beginning of the dream going around something familiarly made of clay, and I felt sick, I felt disease in my head. i think I was acutely ashamed of my dreaming state because of the clay, because of the wayit twisted things. It made them less real. It made me feel the sickness of my waking life I didn't know was there.
And I still feel sick, I can't handle it I am so ill at the thought of how I adress the world. It gets worse every time. All the things I realized about what's wrong, they're still there. i still can't handle being happy, I still don't know how to behave. I still can't function like the real people. I fell like crap, just like always. I know better and for some reason I won't do what I know to do.
My dreams seem to come out of a ball of old oily clay, still old and crumbly, like my brain is line with it, and my injured mind is bringing it out sad and crooked.
I was thinking, "I don't want to see the sickness of my own mind. I don't want to dream." They are full of dust. They have that triangular nausea at their center. I remember one night long ago of feeling incredibly sick about a dream I had. I was incedibly concerned with getting the sleeping area into an orderly state. I seriously wanted to throw all the wrinkled linens off because there was a sense or urgent danger in the clutter. All of a sudden I was seeing everything in clay again and in my head a voice was insisting something about people dying, like the disorder of the clay meant death. I wanted to throw up.
Last night I only saw the beginning of the dream going around something familiarly made of clay, and I felt sick, I felt disease in my head. i think I was acutely ashamed of my dreaming state because of the clay, because of the wayit twisted things. It made them less real. It made me feel the sickness of my waking life I didn't know was there.
And I still feel sick, I can't handle it I am so ill at the thought of how I adress the world. It gets worse every time. All the things I realized about what's wrong, they're still there. i still can't handle being happy, I still don't know how to behave. I still can't function like the real people. I fell like crap, just like always. I know better and for some reason I won't do what I know to do.
Monday, September 25, 2006
I still feel like crap, ok
So ever since schol started it's like my whole life started falling apart and I can't figure out why.Ok, I can figure out why, My prayer life fell apart first. Ok, that's my problem. That's simple enough. Problem solved. It's just kinda difficult.
I also moved, I also fell like crap. I got away from my lunatic friend. Well, she wasn't a lunatic but she acts like a serious lunatic when it comes to making really impulsive decisions that severly screw me over. What else? Well I'm not a leader.
I think that's problematic enough. I don't know why I wanted to be a leader so bad and I can't do it right now. That's simple enough, too. I need to stop being so proud and desirous of power that I'll be able to handle leadership if I get it. That's simple enough, just not easy.
Ok so that's enough of that.
I mis SLT. I missed my chance for crying. I was thinking I wanted to be there so bad yesterday. I wanted to go somewhere safe and cry so noone would hear. I wanted to go there and cry with somebody safe, so I wouldn't be all alone.
wierd things make me cry for wierd reasons. I see things that make me remember other things and then I feel really sick and want to cry. Like lst night I was watching this show and it creeped me out. I had this feeling all day like something sharp and triangular weighing down my stomache and poking me from the inside. I think I started seeing things in myself that I didn;t want. i was dizzy and sick still and felt like numbness was running through me like blood itself. I wanted to cry really hard. It was different. Usually when I want to cry it's because something evil is telling me all the sad things so I won't be able to do anything useful. This time I didn't hear any evil voice, it was like it was ok and I had to do it. but I can't cry out loud. I always try to do it without making any noise. That's how it's always been. It's too shameful.
Ok, That's all for now.
I also moved, I also fell like crap. I got away from my lunatic friend. Well, she wasn't a lunatic but she acts like a serious lunatic when it comes to making really impulsive decisions that severly screw me over. What else? Well I'm not a leader.
I think that's problematic enough. I don't know why I wanted to be a leader so bad and I can't do it right now. That's simple enough, too. I need to stop being so proud and desirous of power that I'll be able to handle leadership if I get it. That's simple enough, just not easy.
Ok so that's enough of that.
I mis SLT. I missed my chance for crying. I was thinking I wanted to be there so bad yesterday. I wanted to go somewhere safe and cry so noone would hear. I wanted to go there and cry with somebody safe, so I wouldn't be all alone.
wierd things make me cry for wierd reasons. I see things that make me remember other things and then I feel really sick and want to cry. Like lst night I was watching this show and it creeped me out. I had this feeling all day like something sharp and triangular weighing down my stomache and poking me from the inside. I think I started seeing things in myself that I didn;t want. i was dizzy and sick still and felt like numbness was running through me like blood itself. I wanted to cry really hard. It was different. Usually when I want to cry it's because something evil is telling me all the sad things so I won't be able to do anything useful. This time I didn't hear any evil voice, it was like it was ok and I had to do it. but I can't cry out loud. I always try to do it without making any noise. That's how it's always been. It's too shameful.
Ok, That's all for now.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Ok i feel like crap
What else could I say about it? Ok, honestly, I have been amazingly blessed and helped and provided for and all kind of things. So why do I still feel like crap?
I know better than to do the things I've been doing, but I still do them, like the sleep deprivation thing. I set up my schedule to have me running from 0434 when my alarm goes off until 2100 some nights when my classes end. I honestly have about an hour free teim most days. So I at least had foresight to ask my bossess to give me an extra day off so I can sleep. I don't think I'll get that whole day every week but God is good so something will happen. I still have to pay for my internet until the stupid modem gets to where it needs to go. Stupid modem. I hate it.
Lets see, regardless of what I eat, I get incredibly painful gass. The intense pain is like a series of knots or like rocks moving through my intestines. It's like I'm suddenly allergic to food. What else can I complain about? My life is actually really good, other than the fact that I fell like my brain is ceasing to work. My memory is disappearing. My other boss seriously wants me to see a doctor because I can't remember anything he says and I can't think straight some times. Or any of the time for that matter. I also have an inherent incompetence that comes from approaching every simple task as if it is ten thousand times harder than it is, and I don't know why. It's like doing my job is like reaching for stuff on a shelf and all I have to do is grab it, but I see at as further away and higher up than it really is, and I see a couple of grates or something in front of the stuff so I don't think I can do it, but then someone shows me how and suddenly it's easy again. And it's like, "dude, I just had to grab it, but I felt like I had to move those two grates and climb up and stuff.
SO yeah, things aren't really bad, but I fell like crap. I need to sleep, I need to shower, I need to eat without feeling like I'm being stabbed from inside my guts. I need to not be appalled and disgusted with everything about my body and the way I look. I need to remember. I need to get a grip.
I need to not dwell on all the crap my previous roomate did to screw my life over. I need to remember for real.
Overall I really need Jesus. That I know is true.
I know better than to do the things I've been doing, but I still do them, like the sleep deprivation thing. I set up my schedule to have me running from 0434 when my alarm goes off until 2100 some nights when my classes end. I honestly have about an hour free teim most days. So I at least had foresight to ask my bossess to give me an extra day off so I can sleep. I don't think I'll get that whole day every week but God is good so something will happen. I still have to pay for my internet until the stupid modem gets to where it needs to go. Stupid modem. I hate it.
Lets see, regardless of what I eat, I get incredibly painful gass. The intense pain is like a series of knots or like rocks moving through my intestines. It's like I'm suddenly allergic to food. What else can I complain about? My life is actually really good, other than the fact that I fell like my brain is ceasing to work. My memory is disappearing. My other boss seriously wants me to see a doctor because I can't remember anything he says and I can't think straight some times. Or any of the time for that matter. I also have an inherent incompetence that comes from approaching every simple task as if it is ten thousand times harder than it is, and I don't know why. It's like doing my job is like reaching for stuff on a shelf and all I have to do is grab it, but I see at as further away and higher up than it really is, and I see a couple of grates or something in front of the stuff so I don't think I can do it, but then someone shows me how and suddenly it's easy again. And it's like, "dude, I just had to grab it, but I felt like I had to move those two grates and climb up and stuff.
SO yeah, things aren't really bad, but I fell like crap. I need to sleep, I need to shower, I need to eat without feeling like I'm being stabbed from inside my guts. I need to not be appalled and disgusted with everything about my body and the way I look. I need to remember. I need to get a grip.
I need to not dwell on all the crap my previous roomate did to screw my life over. I need to remember for real.
Overall I really need Jesus. That I know is true.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Scared crapless: Crying with Caleb
So I thought I was watching someone I love die, on his first birthday, and I was really wondering what I was going to tell his parents.
Ok, for some bizarre reason I love Caleb more than anything. I love Matthias, his brother, too, but I think Caleb has the cute infant advantage.
Well, the 29th was Caleb's first birthday and I got to babysit both kids for a while cuz their parents had to go to a meeting. So it was the second time I'd been alone babysitting. Typically, the adults are working upstairs in the office and I'm just keeping the little guys occupied.
Well, this time I was alone and we were upstairs in Caleb's room and I was talking to Matthias and Caleb was on the floor. All of a sudden I looked at Caleb and something was wrong.
He looked upset and his mouth was open all the way. His eyes were even bigger than normal and his whole face was quickly turning purple.
I panicked, thinking he must be choking and I don't know what to do. He definately wasn't breathing. I prayed and continued panicking and trying to figure out how on earth to un-choke a one-year-old.
The worst part was when he kind of passed out or something. His eyes glazed over and he was just staring into nothing. I thought he had died. I couldn't even register how bad that felt. I had some hope that maybe if I called 911 they could do something. I thought "ambulances take four mintes. If he's still alive he can last for a little longer than that."
Right when I reached for my phone he started screaming, and I was so happy that air was coming out that I started crying. I cried about everything: the true horrible feeling that he could have died, the helplessness oof not knowing what to do, the responsibility for his death. I cried for like, two minutes, which is a hugely long time for me.
Matthias, who is three, just kind of was sitting there the whole time not understanding and he asked, "Why are you crying?"
SO i called the parents and explained what had happened. I hadn't realized that caleb randomly stops breathing when he's really upset. Oh, good to know. I knew he used to stop breathing, like a year ago when he was just born, I didn't realize he still does that.
Well, that was the day I moved, so I had to wait for a ride to go to my new place. The kid's mom had taken the car home from the meeting to give me a break early from the traumatic experience. The dad was getting a ride home later. So while we were waiting we talked about something called theofostic prayer (no idea how it's spelled) [θеjəfastɪk] (schwa and cap-I) and that made a difference. I ended up sleeping on their couch for a couple hours before going home.
Ok, for some bizarre reason I love Caleb more than anything. I love Matthias, his brother, too, but I think Caleb has the cute infant advantage.
Well, the 29th was Caleb's first birthday and I got to babysit both kids for a while cuz their parents had to go to a meeting. So it was the second time I'd been alone babysitting. Typically, the adults are working upstairs in the office and I'm just keeping the little guys occupied.
Well, this time I was alone and we were upstairs in Caleb's room and I was talking to Matthias and Caleb was on the floor. All of a sudden I looked at Caleb and something was wrong.
He looked upset and his mouth was open all the way. His eyes were even bigger than normal and his whole face was quickly turning purple.
I panicked, thinking he must be choking and I don't know what to do. He definately wasn't breathing. I prayed and continued panicking and trying to figure out how on earth to un-choke a one-year-old.
The worst part was when he kind of passed out or something. His eyes glazed over and he was just staring into nothing. I thought he had died. I couldn't even register how bad that felt. I had some hope that maybe if I called 911 they could do something. I thought "ambulances take four mintes. If he's still alive he can last for a little longer than that."
Right when I reached for my phone he started screaming, and I was so happy that air was coming out that I started crying. I cried about everything: the true horrible feeling that he could have died, the helplessness oof not knowing what to do, the responsibility for his death. I cried for like, two minutes, which is a hugely long time for me.
Matthias, who is three, just kind of was sitting there the whole time not understanding and he asked, "Why are you crying?"
SO i called the parents and explained what had happened. I hadn't realized that caleb randomly stops breathing when he's really upset. Oh, good to know. I knew he used to stop breathing, like a year ago when he was just born, I didn't realize he still does that.
Well, that was the day I moved, so I had to wait for a ride to go to my new place. The kid's mom had taken the car home from the meeting to give me a break early from the traumatic experience. The dad was getting a ride home later. So while we were waiting we talked about something called theofostic prayer (no idea how it's spelled) [θеjəfastɪk] (schwa and cap-I) and that made a difference. I ended up sleeping on their couch for a couple hours before going home.
Monday, August 28, 2006
Yeah, so I managed to get in one crucial conversation with my sister. I don't remember when. I think it was thursday. I sadiwaht I really had to say. I also called my mom today. That was important.
Ok, so what's really true? When I think about what's on my mind I have to break everything down to what it really at the center of it. I think that's the most important thing I learned at SLT, that above all I need to look at what is crucially going on with me.
So, based on that, what is going on? Well, things are changing again. I'm moving to a new place tomorrow. I need to finish packing.
I found that I'm excited for the fall ministry plans even though it means things will start getting colder. I actually am glad summer is endin. That's crazy talk! I hate non-summer. I especially hate winter. Oh well, I love it now.
SO what's really going on? At the very heart of me, what am I feeling? Do I really have the self-respect I've been fighting to get? DO I really know the truth about who I am.
I don't think so, because my memory is still falling apart, and I fall into all kinds f confusion, because I feel like my mind has suffered enormous amounts of damage. Not physical, because no physical trauma has been suffered, but I feel like my brain doesn't wan't to work anymore, and hasn't for some time, not since I was seventeen. Maybe eighteen. I always think that the shut-down started at seventeen. I don't know why. It's like whenever I go to say my age I go all the way back to seventeen and then I have to remember, Oh, wait, I'm twenty. But I'm seventeen in my mind. It's like there's a void in the last three years, like eighteen and nineteen existed, but I can't grasp them. What on earth was is that messed up my head? And how do I fix it? What is it about my past three years that I started shoving them into a black hole in my head? What happened then? That was the year I got saved. That was the year I got adopted, that was the year I came to understand the kind of person my mother is as I've never understood it before.That was when I read the whole bible that summer and lost a lot of wait, then startd gaining it back in late fall and winter. That was when my backslide started. That was the year I joined the Army and saw my life's direction start changing. That was 2003 and 2004. I think it was the family thing and the moving thing. I think something about the transplant from everything I'd ever known to something functional with everything I needed was what messed me up. I think it was going from abuse, neglect and decay to the realization that what I had lived in all my life was not normal nor good. It was the year my dad left and I was glad he was gone. But he left when I was 16. I was already aware of how poor we were. I finally learned that it was my mom who just couldn't work, and not the workplaces that just weren't right for her. I realized she only cares about herself, and Dad is that same way. I realized that I had been living in abuse and thinking it was normal and right. I had been living in filth and thinking it was clean, I had been in an incredibly dysfunctional family and thinking all families were that way. And then I learned, by moving into a new place, that all that I had known as the norm was infact incredibly abnormal and diseased and just bad. I realized I was very hurt and messed up. I think that's why my memory stopped. And that's the truth.
I think I'm afraid of the truth.
Ok, so what's really true? When I think about what's on my mind I have to break everything down to what it really at the center of it. I think that's the most important thing I learned at SLT, that above all I need to look at what is crucially going on with me.
So, based on that, what is going on? Well, things are changing again. I'm moving to a new place tomorrow. I need to finish packing.
I found that I'm excited for the fall ministry plans even though it means things will start getting colder. I actually am glad summer is endin. That's crazy talk! I hate non-summer. I especially hate winter. Oh well, I love it now.
SO what's really going on? At the very heart of me, what am I feeling? Do I really have the self-respect I've been fighting to get? DO I really know the truth about who I am.
I don't think so, because my memory is still falling apart, and I fall into all kinds f confusion, because I feel like my mind has suffered enormous amounts of damage. Not physical, because no physical trauma has been suffered, but I feel like my brain doesn't wan't to work anymore, and hasn't for some time, not since I was seventeen. Maybe eighteen. I always think that the shut-down started at seventeen. I don't know why. It's like whenever I go to say my age I go all the way back to seventeen and then I have to remember, Oh, wait, I'm twenty. But I'm seventeen in my mind. It's like there's a void in the last three years, like eighteen and nineteen existed, but I can't grasp them. What on earth was is that messed up my head? And how do I fix it? What is it about my past three years that I started shoving them into a black hole in my head? What happened then? That was the year I got saved. That was the year I got adopted, that was the year I came to understand the kind of person my mother is as I've never understood it before.That was when I read the whole bible that summer and lost a lot of wait, then startd gaining it back in late fall and winter. That was when my backslide started. That was the year I joined the Army and saw my life's direction start changing. That was 2003 and 2004. I think it was the family thing and the moving thing. I think something about the transplant from everything I'd ever known to something functional with everything I needed was what messed me up. I think it was going from abuse, neglect and decay to the realization that what I had lived in all my life was not normal nor good. It was the year my dad left and I was glad he was gone. But he left when I was 16. I was already aware of how poor we were. I finally learned that it was my mom who just couldn't work, and not the workplaces that just weren't right for her. I realized she only cares about herself, and Dad is that same way. I realized that I had been living in abuse and thinking it was normal and right. I had been living in filth and thinking it was clean, I had been in an incredibly dysfunctional family and thinking all families were that way. And then I learned, by moving into a new place, that all that I had known as the norm was infact incredibly abnormal and diseased and just bad. I realized I was very hurt and messed up. I think that's why my memory stopped. And that's the truth.
I think I'm afraid of the truth.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Still heavily ticked.
I hate that feeling of doubt that tries to tell me I wasted my time and haven't gotten any better.
However, I realized the important fact that the reason I felt extra crappy yesterday and then today was because they were my time with Christian people days. I have always found that on days when I am going to do something God-centered with other people, those are the days when i am angry and start to fell like I'm falling apart. It used to be just fridays. Now it's thrusdays, too. With most people it's sunday morning when something evil tells you not to get up for church and tried to give you some excuse not to go.
Well, I already knew this. I alrady knew all of this. Why don't I change if I know what I need? What is holding me back? It sucks. I want to stop being this way and I still don't.
So I don't know what to do. I did one important thing. I went through one important conversation. Now another one is kicking me in the face and I have to let it out.
Oh, and another thing, I'm really struggling with ow to handle my mom right now. That also involves only things that I know already.
I wonder what happens when all the fronts break down and I start being functional. It's not just scary, it's hard. But there's nothing else I can do. I keer trying to go back but I can't. It doesn't work.
However, I realized the important fact that the reason I felt extra crappy yesterday and then today was because they were my time with Christian people days. I have always found that on days when I am going to do something God-centered with other people, those are the days when i am angry and start to fell like I'm falling apart. It used to be just fridays. Now it's thrusdays, too. With most people it's sunday morning when something evil tells you not to get up for church and tried to give you some excuse not to go.
Well, I already knew this. I alrady knew all of this. Why don't I change if I know what I need? What is holding me back? It sucks. I want to stop being this way and I still don't.
So I don't know what to do. I did one important thing. I went through one important conversation. Now another one is kicking me in the face and I have to let it out.
Oh, and another thing, I'm really struggling with ow to handle my mom right now. That also involves only things that I know already.
I wonder what happens when all the fronts break down and I start being functional. It's not just scary, it's hard. But there's nothing else I can do. I keer trying to go back but I can't. It doesn't work.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
what on earth to say
Ok, so for the past couple of days I've been falling apart. Maybe the whole week. It started out fine, and I'll be rolling along fine, but then I'll flip into a ditch and catch on fire. I feel really sick , I feel really mad.
I'm really frustrated and really confused.
I have some idea what's going on. I think my defenses are a little worn down. I think they're a lot worn down. I think it's a whole lot of spiritual attack.
That's enough, knowing what it is. It still bothers me and it's still messing up my day. How disappointing.
Ok, I am extremely angered at what my mom said to me today when she posted a reply on my other blog. I knew she would say it but it still makes me mad.
If there is anything that scares me about feeling crazy it's the thought that I could ever be like her. To be anything like her would makes me want to die. It's bad enough that her family thinks I'm just like her. Of all the things I'm ashamed of it's her and my dad. It's the things they've done and are still doing and it's the people they are. It's the marks they left on me. There are the actual bruises and scars and a couple of burns, and then there's the laziness, the stubbornness, the self-centered worldview. There's the anger. There's the mental disease and the gastro-intestinal disease.
There's my mom's body and my dad's eyes. I forgot his face but I remember his eyes. How could I forget them?
I used to be so consumed with being angry about inheriting physical attributes from my parents. I remember when I stopped drawing, partly because I didn't want to be an artsy loser like my parents, the art majors who shouldn've gotten real degrees and real jobs.
I'm still waiting on my emotional release. Today i realized that maybe all the disasters that happened were supposed to lead me toward that crying breakthrough I've been waiting to finish ever since it started three weeks ago. I remember. The ast full day at SLT and I actually cried for real. Well, I started crying. I didn't finish, I just stopped.
I'm really frustrated and really confused.
I have some idea what's going on. I think my defenses are a little worn down. I think they're a lot worn down. I think it's a whole lot of spiritual attack.
That's enough, knowing what it is. It still bothers me and it's still messing up my day. How disappointing.
Ok, I am extremely angered at what my mom said to me today when she posted a reply on my other blog. I knew she would say it but it still makes me mad.
If there is anything that scares me about feeling crazy it's the thought that I could ever be like her. To be anything like her would makes me want to die. It's bad enough that her family thinks I'm just like her. Of all the things I'm ashamed of it's her and my dad. It's the things they've done and are still doing and it's the people they are. It's the marks they left on me. There are the actual bruises and scars and a couple of burns, and then there's the laziness, the stubbornness, the self-centered worldview. There's the anger. There's the mental disease and the gastro-intestinal disease.
There's my mom's body and my dad's eyes. I forgot his face but I remember his eyes. How could I forget them?
I used to be so consumed with being angry about inheriting physical attributes from my parents. I remember when I stopped drawing, partly because I didn't want to be an artsy loser like my parents, the art majors who shouldn've gotten real degrees and real jobs.
I'm still waiting on my emotional release. Today i realized that maybe all the disasters that happened were supposed to lead me toward that crying breakthrough I've been waiting to finish ever since it started three weeks ago. I remember. The ast full day at SLT and I actually cried for real. Well, I started crying. I didn't finish, I just stopped.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Christians Don't Swear...Unless they're pissed off.
So I'm like, overjoyed to be moving. For some reason I'm still incredibly, unbeleivably stressed. I can tell I'm stressed because I just ate and entire box of honey bunches of Oats with Almonds. So at least I got lots of vitamin E.
Ok, so there goes my determination to eat as though I have self respect. I think I was also dehydrated.I think I may be losing my mind.
The main problem I think I had today was my malcious feelings toward a certain person who talks a lot more than is necessary. I realized that I really hate when people complain all day, especially when they do it out if ignorance and refusal to understand. I;ve found that the only way I can complain about something is if I take a very narrow and selfish perspective on it. Like, I can complain all about work, but that would require omitting how blessed i am just to be working, plus all tha gets accomplished, as well as the perspectives of everyone else involved. I can't stand complaining to begin with. But what I really can't stand is when people who claim to be Christians talk smack all about other people. I hate that duality of being nice and singing, and then turning around and complaining all about someone else. That's not right. I really hate when we make ourselves look bad like that. It's like, what the heck do I do? Do I say, "Stop that! Don't you remember whose you are?" man, I'm so angry I can't stand it. Ok, so that's my deal for now. I can't see straight.
My other point is that I really don't like hearing the people of God that I know swear. Now, for the most part, the only swear I ever hear them say is "Pissed off" and that's it. That's the worst for them. Now, I randomly swear worse than that. In fact, I think I swore during my first Retreat Of Silence at SLT. I slipped on a rock and said [ʃɪɾ ] (haha, censors don't know phonetics)
But anyway, do Christians even have a right to be pissed off? I mean, aren's we supposed to praise God in good times and bad, no matter how hard it is?
Ok, so I'm too tired to totally make sense, I guess all I'm trying to say could be much better articulated. But I really want to emphasize that if we're really people of God, we've got to do everything as people of God, we can't ever forget who we are and that we are His. All my trouble comes along when I forget who I am. I forgo who I was by the time I got to college. I forgot who I was for a long time before I got saved. I don't think I totally learned who I was when i first got saved, or in the three years since. i think SLT was a huge step in that direction. I think I still have a lot to learn about who I am and how God intended me to be. I think I'm still afraid of that person. I think that person is pretty freakin scary. Imagine: Me, functional. Pretty freakin scary. I'm really scared. I want it but I'm scared of it. And I think a lot of us are scared of ourselves like that. Why? I have so much trouble understanding.
Ok, so there goes my determination to eat as though I have self respect. I think I was also dehydrated.I think I may be losing my mind.
The main problem I think I had today was my malcious feelings toward a certain person who talks a lot more than is necessary. I realized that I really hate when people complain all day, especially when they do it out if ignorance and refusal to understand. I;ve found that the only way I can complain about something is if I take a very narrow and selfish perspective on it. Like, I can complain all about work, but that would require omitting how blessed i am just to be working, plus all tha gets accomplished, as well as the perspectives of everyone else involved. I can't stand complaining to begin with. But what I really can't stand is when people who claim to be Christians talk smack all about other people. I hate that duality of being nice and singing, and then turning around and complaining all about someone else. That's not right. I really hate when we make ourselves look bad like that. It's like, what the heck do I do? Do I say, "Stop that! Don't you remember whose you are?" man, I'm so angry I can't stand it. Ok, so that's my deal for now. I can't see straight.
My other point is that I really don't like hearing the people of God that I know swear. Now, for the most part, the only swear I ever hear them say is "Pissed off" and that's it. That's the worst for them. Now, I randomly swear worse than that. In fact, I think I swore during my first Retreat Of Silence at SLT. I slipped on a rock and said [ʃɪɾ ] (haha, censors don't know phonetics)
But anyway, do Christians even have a right to be pissed off? I mean, aren's we supposed to praise God in good times and bad, no matter how hard it is?
Ok, so I'm too tired to totally make sense, I guess all I'm trying to say could be much better articulated. But I really want to emphasize that if we're really people of God, we've got to do everything as people of God, we can't ever forget who we are and that we are His. All my trouble comes along when I forget who I am. I forgo who I was by the time I got to college. I forgot who I was for a long time before I got saved. I don't think I totally learned who I was when i first got saved, or in the three years since. i think SLT was a huge step in that direction. I think I still have a lot to learn about who I am and how God intended me to be. I think I'm still afraid of that person. I think that person is pretty freakin scary. Imagine: Me, functional. Pretty freakin scary. I'm really scared. I want it but I'm scared of it. And I think a lot of us are scared of ourselves like that. Why? I have so much trouble understanding.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
looks like ima move sooner'n I thought
So, any color text looks good with black background, even pukey teal.
eh. After my discussion of the pros and cons of getting hit by an ice cream truck, which was my prime thought for the day, I don't really have much to say. I guess that's the problem with having multiple blogs. Oh well. I think I'll even post on ym third blog if I have time, which I won't. That one's my quiet time blog. This one's my...uh...major spiritual thought wrestling blog and the other one is my dream and randome thought blog.
So, my thought it that I realized that I really am recovering from dysfunction, surprisingly. Mainly I've been impriving on the eating disorder thing. Like, I still see stuff, like a crap load of cookies we ended up not needing and I was like, the old, dysfunctional me would have eated every freakin last one of these just cuz they were there. I did eat more than would have been good, and I still eat stuff that tastes horrible, but I have a lot more reason to it, like I actually stop when I'm full. That's huge
And I can still take correction. That is also huge.
The other huge thing is that I was like, uncontrollably happy today. Like, i was on fire with joy for no reason. It was awesome. there was a lot of crap going down but I was like, I don't care. I mean I care but I'm going to release it almost as if I don't care because it isn't going to hurt me in the end.
A lot of times I say things don't matter or I don't care, but what I really mean is i release the problems and the people that cause them because I'm free from anger.
Yeah, I think today I was freed from my anger. I had prayed and prayed about it and I was just so happy It was like I would never be angry again. That was quite a feeling. It was the best feeling ever.
Let's see, when have I felt like this.
There was after my brother gave that talk and I learned how I was being used to save others. That was an awesome feeling. Then there was the feeling I had from the live show in April because I was really doing something for God. Then there was that whole period afterwards of my birthday and I was kinda down when I saw my sister and then up and down and all the love stuff, oh and that stupid crush on that guy and all those conferences. Aw man. That was actually a bad time because I was decieving myself. Oh, then there was working with the kids and a lot of inability to relate to a bunch of guys. that was also bad.
And then there was all the joyful anticipation of SLT and then SLT itself, and now the post-SLT waves of new joy from newly experiencing more of God. That is cool. Just the things that are allowed to release now that I've finally realized what's really true about me. Wow.
Ok, but there's still the matter of the guy I currently have a crush on. The problem with crushing is that you always think, it must be for some good reason, maybe this is not the one, but afterwards, you think, he was not the one. I'm not even sure there is one for me. I would probably be fine with either findinf him or having noone. What I would personally prefer goes back and forth all the time.
What I really want though is to go through a time of not having anyone on my mind and being totally prepared to be alone and to understand and be ok with just myself. because right now I'm buried under a lotta crap. That's what I've wanted for a long time.
so it's settled. I'm not going to like this guy anymore. If God has anything in mind, then it will be most obedient of me to let it happen when He wants it and for now let God take care of my personal issues.
I've known this was what I need to do for a long time. God will tell me when to move on.
That's good. I can rest with that. It's just the follow through that is hard.
WHoops, and my other thought is that ima move to a new residential location soon. there. that's the moving thing in the title. It wasn't a reference to the other kind of move, unless I suddenly have more of the gift of prophesy than I thought I did. Wouldn't surprise me at all.
eh. After my discussion of the pros and cons of getting hit by an ice cream truck, which was my prime thought for the day, I don't really have much to say. I guess that's the problem with having multiple blogs. Oh well. I think I'll even post on ym third blog if I have time, which I won't. That one's my quiet time blog. This one's my...uh...major spiritual thought wrestling blog and the other one is my dream and randome thought blog.
So, my thought it that I realized that I really am recovering from dysfunction, surprisingly. Mainly I've been impriving on the eating disorder thing. Like, I still see stuff, like a crap load of cookies we ended up not needing and I was like, the old, dysfunctional me would have eated every freakin last one of these just cuz they were there. I did eat more than would have been good, and I still eat stuff that tastes horrible, but I have a lot more reason to it, like I actually stop when I'm full. That's huge
And I can still take correction. That is also huge.
The other huge thing is that I was like, uncontrollably happy today. Like, i was on fire with joy for no reason. It was awesome. there was a lot of crap going down but I was like, I don't care. I mean I care but I'm going to release it almost as if I don't care because it isn't going to hurt me in the end.
A lot of times I say things don't matter or I don't care, but what I really mean is i release the problems and the people that cause them because I'm free from anger.
Yeah, I think today I was freed from my anger. I had prayed and prayed about it and I was just so happy It was like I would never be angry again. That was quite a feeling. It was the best feeling ever.
Let's see, when have I felt like this.
There was after my brother gave that talk and I learned how I was being used to save others. That was an awesome feeling. Then there was the feeling I had from the live show in April because I was really doing something for God. Then there was that whole period afterwards of my birthday and I was kinda down when I saw my sister and then up and down and all the love stuff, oh and that stupid crush on that guy and all those conferences. Aw man. That was actually a bad time because I was decieving myself. Oh, then there was working with the kids and a lot of inability to relate to a bunch of guys. that was also bad.
And then there was all the joyful anticipation of SLT and then SLT itself, and now the post-SLT waves of new joy from newly experiencing more of God. That is cool. Just the things that are allowed to release now that I've finally realized what's really true about me. Wow.
Ok, but there's still the matter of the guy I currently have a crush on. The problem with crushing is that you always think, it must be for some good reason, maybe this is not the one, but afterwards, you think, he was not the one. I'm not even sure there is one for me. I would probably be fine with either findinf him or having noone. What I would personally prefer goes back and forth all the time.
What I really want though is to go through a time of not having anyone on my mind and being totally prepared to be alone and to understand and be ok with just myself. because right now I'm buried under a lotta crap. That's what I've wanted for a long time.
so it's settled. I'm not going to like this guy anymore. If God has anything in mind, then it will be most obedient of me to let it happen when He wants it and for now let God take care of my personal issues.
I've known this was what I need to do for a long time. God will tell me when to move on.
That's good. I can rest with that. It's just the follow through that is hard.
WHoops, and my other thought is that ima move to a new residential location soon. there. that's the moving thing in the title. It wasn't a reference to the other kind of move, unless I suddenly have more of the gift of prophesy than I thought I did. Wouldn't surprise me at all.
Monday, August 21, 2006
Yay a friend
So I went through what I could consider my first day of consciously trying to overcome the dysfunction, which is really difficult, because, as I've said, it's been wrapped around everything I am. It's like a huge tumor, like the kind that's in your brain and makes a hole so it can sit there, so when you take the tumor out, there's a hole. That's how i feel. I feel like my whole body has been covered by tumors so I look like just one big tumor and I'm afraid I'll die without it there because there seems to be so little normal tissue left. But it's killing me anyway.
Well, I realized some important changes in giving up the dysfunction. I founf I didn't mind someone telling me I was doing something wrong. It was like, ok, I'll just do it right now. That's better. It wasn't like before when it would've been "Oh no, I made a mistake. Now I'm done. I'm gonna get fired and killed and thrown away." That was a bad way to feel.
Also, there's the eating disorder thing and all the self destruction behind it. I feel like I no longer feel the intense compulsion to eat things just because they make me sick. I was like "I hate eating this thing, and I'd rather not eat it. In fact, I don't like how it tastes at all, so I won't eat it." as opposed to the previous mental tape of "Well it's not at all appealing. I hate it, but I hate me, too, so I might as well eat it since today is a mess up day. I'll throw today away and start again tomorrow."
Ok what else happened? I reall want my memory to come back, and also to be able to pay attention to what others are saying.
I also want to be bold with the gospel which I realize I am not. I think that's a huge part of why my meditations haven't been as I've wanted them to. Honestly, if I would just take one opportunity to do what I know I can do, I think I wouldn't have to beg God to speak to me, and I wouldn't doubt at all. Ok, there.
ok, on a related note, I was talking to a friend from church today and along comes this girl and starts asking us questions about where to go to do stuff in...this city. heh heh. In my head I just heard this glaring "GOSPEL OPPORTUNITY!!!!" but like, of course I was scared. Well, I'll see this person again soon, probably this weekend, and then I hope she'll be comfortable enough with us to not be scared off by what I'm going to have to say.
Well, I realized some important changes in giving up the dysfunction. I founf I didn't mind someone telling me I was doing something wrong. It was like, ok, I'll just do it right now. That's better. It wasn't like before when it would've been "Oh no, I made a mistake. Now I'm done. I'm gonna get fired and killed and thrown away." That was a bad way to feel.
Also, there's the eating disorder thing and all the self destruction behind it. I feel like I no longer feel the intense compulsion to eat things just because they make me sick. I was like "I hate eating this thing, and I'd rather not eat it. In fact, I don't like how it tastes at all, so I won't eat it." as opposed to the previous mental tape of "Well it's not at all appealing. I hate it, but I hate me, too, so I might as well eat it since today is a mess up day. I'll throw today away and start again tomorrow."
Ok what else happened? I reall want my memory to come back, and also to be able to pay attention to what others are saying.
I also want to be bold with the gospel which I realize I am not. I think that's a huge part of why my meditations haven't been as I've wanted them to. Honestly, if I would just take one opportunity to do what I know I can do, I think I wouldn't have to beg God to speak to me, and I wouldn't doubt at all. Ok, there.
ok, on a related note, I was talking to a friend from church today and along comes this girl and starts asking us questions about where to go to do stuff in...this city. heh heh. In my head I just heard this glaring "GOSPEL OPPORTUNITY!!!!" but like, of course I was scared. Well, I'll see this person again soon, probably this weekend, and then I hope she'll be comfortable enough with us to not be scared off by what I'm going to have to say.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Blah
Well, trying to be all profound isn't working. Oh well. I was thinking today when I was taking notes on the sermon during church, "I wonder if I recorded everything I've been taught that I have written down, which would include mainly some recent sermons, SLT and a recent conference, plus the stuff i have on CD, I would first see how many times I had to be told the same thing and how important that must be, and maybe even learn it this time, and second maybe there is an overall pattern that reflects events in my life." Eh, I really wanted to type up everything I had taken notes on in SLT. That would have been helpful, since my writing grows more cryptic over time and since my memory is really bad.
Oh, but something somewhat meaningful did come up today. My pastor said that even if it's not your fault...hanging on to dysfunction becomes a sin. He was talking about confessions, which is the series we are in right now. The passage for today was Luke 18:9-15 about the parable of the pharisee and the tax collector.
The sermon convicted me of about two things.
First, the minor reminder that Christians are often at a huge risk of turning self-righteous and trying to go on our own strength. I don't really struggle with that especially but it's good to be aware of the risk. The other thing was the problem of dysfunction. It has come to my attention recently that I am more than a little bit extremely dyfunctional beyond belief. Like, I have some serious issues in addressing everyday life.
I'm not surprised at all to realize that, but it is definately true. I just never was able to take in just how incredibly dysfunctional I am. Like, I can't even remember what I'm doing half the time, and I have a lot of trouble with memory in general.
Well, it was really easy going along and not wanting to function normally and be held to all the same standards as the real people because I had a lot of issues in the way that it seemed made it impossible for me to be normal. I really didn't think it was possible for me to act at all like the normal people. I thought my memory just won't work and I won't be competent and I can't ever understand what anyone wants from me. And I won't ever be understood because too many things went wrong and I got wrecked from the beginning, like some kind of little tree that grew into a fence and got twisted all around the fenct so it can't ever be straightened out like the good trees. That's how I feel a lot of the times. I had a feeling not only that it wasn't my fault but that there was nothing I could do about it except try really hard to not be a nuisance to the people that know how to behave.
But then today I realized that the dysfunction itself is like a sin I hang onto, and maybe that in itself is part of my comfort zone.
And that presents me with a whole new dilemma. Because I established back at SLT the need for self-respect. That's hard enough. It's hard learning to act in self-respect. I'm barely getting there. And then there's the need to stop putting myself in positions where I will be abused. That's hard, too, because I have to step even further out of my comfort zone. And then I have to stop being dysfunctional?! It's like I have to let go of everything. It's like I have to burn my house down with all my clothes and records and stuff and basically go on to something completely new with absolutely nothing. It shouldn't be hard, since I've done something like that twice. That is I left everything behind, including my family and moved on to somewhere completely new and cut off. That I've done twice, cutting off from two families. I even preached a sermon about it last month.
But that's just physical. I can handle losing all of my stuff and I can stand the social severance of having to leave home multiple times.
But to cast off abuse, self-hate and dysfunction? That's hard. That's like wrapped around my whole self like a strangler fig. That's sunk into everything I know and do. It would be like cutting off all my skin and expecting a new one to grow. It's like sawing off all the diseased branches of a tree and only having a stump and expecting it to live. It's crazy. I don't want to do it. I'm afraid of what really is left of the original me that got buried in all the crap. I wonder if I could make it.
I think I must also be afraid of the potential there. Imagine, being free enough to get out of that. Imagine being like some kind of machine that was so dirty and messed up and broken that it didn't work but it still went along caked with dirt and struggled no matter what. And then it go clean and fixed so it worked, and it was so used to struggling just to crawl that when it started going it, like, took off and ran stuff over.
That's how I feel like I would be. I think I'm afraid of being that. I think I have trouble believing I could ever work properly. I think that's my problem
Oh, but something somewhat meaningful did come up today. My pastor said that even if it's not your fault...hanging on to dysfunction becomes a sin. He was talking about confessions, which is the series we are in right now. The passage for today was Luke 18:9-15 about the parable of the pharisee and the tax collector.
The sermon convicted me of about two things.
First, the minor reminder that Christians are often at a huge risk of turning self-righteous and trying to go on our own strength. I don't really struggle with that especially but it's good to be aware of the risk. The other thing was the problem of dysfunction. It has come to my attention recently that I am more than a little bit extremely dyfunctional beyond belief. Like, I have some serious issues in addressing everyday life.
I'm not surprised at all to realize that, but it is definately true. I just never was able to take in just how incredibly dysfunctional I am. Like, I can't even remember what I'm doing half the time, and I have a lot of trouble with memory in general.
Well, it was really easy going along and not wanting to function normally and be held to all the same standards as the real people because I had a lot of issues in the way that it seemed made it impossible for me to be normal. I really didn't think it was possible for me to act at all like the normal people. I thought my memory just won't work and I won't be competent and I can't ever understand what anyone wants from me. And I won't ever be understood because too many things went wrong and I got wrecked from the beginning, like some kind of little tree that grew into a fence and got twisted all around the fenct so it can't ever be straightened out like the good trees. That's how I feel a lot of the times. I had a feeling not only that it wasn't my fault but that there was nothing I could do about it except try really hard to not be a nuisance to the people that know how to behave.
But then today I realized that the dysfunction itself is like a sin I hang onto, and maybe that in itself is part of my comfort zone.
And that presents me with a whole new dilemma. Because I established back at SLT the need for self-respect. That's hard enough. It's hard learning to act in self-respect. I'm barely getting there. And then there's the need to stop putting myself in positions where I will be abused. That's hard, too, because I have to step even further out of my comfort zone. And then I have to stop being dysfunctional?! It's like I have to let go of everything. It's like I have to burn my house down with all my clothes and records and stuff and basically go on to something completely new with absolutely nothing. It shouldn't be hard, since I've done something like that twice. That is I left everything behind, including my family and moved on to somewhere completely new and cut off. That I've done twice, cutting off from two families. I even preached a sermon about it last month.
But that's just physical. I can handle losing all of my stuff and I can stand the social severance of having to leave home multiple times.
But to cast off abuse, self-hate and dysfunction? That's hard. That's like wrapped around my whole self like a strangler fig. That's sunk into everything I know and do. It would be like cutting off all my skin and expecting a new one to grow. It's like sawing off all the diseased branches of a tree and only having a stump and expecting it to live. It's crazy. I don't want to do it. I'm afraid of what really is left of the original me that got buried in all the crap. I wonder if I could make it.
I think I must also be afraid of the potential there. Imagine, being free enough to get out of that. Imagine being like some kind of machine that was so dirty and messed up and broken that it didn't work but it still went along caked with dirt and struggled no matter what. And then it go clean and fixed so it worked, and it was so used to struggling just to crawl that when it started going it, like, took off and ran stuff over.
That's how I feel like I would be. I think I'm afraid of being that. I think I have trouble believing I could ever work properly. I think that's my problem
Friday, August 18, 2006
That's a bit disappointing
Just when I was extrememly proud of myself for what new things I had learned at SLT, I go and read my posts from 6 months ago and find I had the same feeling then as I do now. However, I realized the things I have realized are not what has changed, but the importance of those things to me has changed.
What I mean by that is that I haven't gained any new spiritual wisdom, but I have felt that wisdom sink in like it never has before. I have also realised (I don't care about spelling) the need for self respect. That's what the last month was about. It was all about me and what I personally needed. Although it helped to be privy to the lies of others, I really had to concentrate on rsolving ym own issues. It felt really selfish until I thought about Matt 7:3 about taking the plank out of your own eye before you can help your brother take the speck out of his.
I've had an adverse reaction to that verse for a long time. First because I never exactly understood it, and second because my biological mother quoted it all the time and it still never made sense. I rememer her shouting it at me once, making a sweeping indication at something I don't remember and shouting "Speck!" and then making a similar gesture at something else directly in front of me that I don't remember and shouting "Plank!" I do remember being extremely angry at her attitude and how convinced she was that she was right and helping, in contrast to my conviction that she was completely wrong and unhelpful.
Come to think of it, I was always sorely angered by her attempts at problem solving, because they demonstrated her sense of logic, which I found appallingly lacking; and her maturity, which I felt I'd surpassed at about seven.
So yes, I do hate my mother. Or at least I am incredibly angry at her for who she is and what she has done. I'm angry that she never grew up, I'm angry that she exists. I'm especially angry that at least one family member has called me a carbon copy of my mother. I'm angry that I could be associated with and to some people indistinguishable from someone so horrible.
The thought that in someone's mind I am just like someone who doesn't work, who would lift a finger or pay a dime for the sake of her children, who lives entirely for her boyfriend (who is a loser) and who pursues her own superficial happiness before anything is not only infuriating, it's...it's depressing.
No matter how hard I work to support myself, to actually care about and minister to others and demonstrate that I actually have morals, I'm still that hedonistic prostitute. No matter what good I do, I shame my biological family, and maybe even my other family just as much as my dead-beat parents do. That makes me mad.
What my roommate grants herself the liberty to do doesn't really make me mad, even though it is extremely rude. The way she makes decisions for and speaks on behalf of me without my consent, that's a little abusive, but it doesn't make me mad. The way she never waits for anything but makes impatient, bad decisions that screw me over, that does make me mad, but not a mad as my mom does.
My mom takes advantage of everyone she can, and then gets mad at them when they don't want to take her crap.
The truth is everything I can't stand about my roommate just reflects my hate for my mom. And in truth, my roommate is a better duplicate of my mom than I am, by far. Although my anger at her is nothing like my anger at my mom. I used to, as a very angry child, envision killing my mom with an axe (in a cartoon sort of way)
that was an extremely bad time.
I can't stand being angry. It happened the other day and it scared me. I don't like how I can feel the heat burning in my forehead. I don't likehow it crunches up my brain with tensions.
It don't like how it fogs up my vision so i can't even see straight. I feel like I've been injected with hot sugar. All my veins feel grainy and on edge. I shake. I can't think properly because I'm so angry. I don't want to kill anyone when I'm angry anymore, but i do want to yell at them.
i especially don't like being self-righteously angry, cuz then I can't listen.
I could go through a whole nother SLT just to get through that. Oh well, these breakthroughs don't only happen at camp, Still, I have a feeling that wasn't my last monthlong stay at Cedat Campus. There's still Crew, Volunteer, or Staff, if i am so called. I really looked up to the non-staff volunteers, I could so relate to wanting to volunteer all that time and work just to serve SLTers.
Ok, enough rambling. At least I told the truth. Will would be proud of me.
What I mean by that is that I haven't gained any new spiritual wisdom, but I have felt that wisdom sink in like it never has before. I have also realised (I don't care about spelling) the need for self respect. That's what the last month was about. It was all about me and what I personally needed. Although it helped to be privy to the lies of others, I really had to concentrate on rsolving ym own issues. It felt really selfish until I thought about Matt 7:3 about taking the plank out of your own eye before you can help your brother take the speck out of his.
I've had an adverse reaction to that verse for a long time. First because I never exactly understood it, and second because my biological mother quoted it all the time and it still never made sense. I rememer her shouting it at me once, making a sweeping indication at something I don't remember and shouting "Speck!" and then making a similar gesture at something else directly in front of me that I don't remember and shouting "Plank!" I do remember being extremely angry at her attitude and how convinced she was that she was right and helping, in contrast to my conviction that she was completely wrong and unhelpful.
Come to think of it, I was always sorely angered by her attempts at problem solving, because they demonstrated her sense of logic, which I found appallingly lacking; and her maturity, which I felt I'd surpassed at about seven.
So yes, I do hate my mother. Or at least I am incredibly angry at her for who she is and what she has done. I'm angry that she never grew up, I'm angry that she exists. I'm especially angry that at least one family member has called me a carbon copy of my mother. I'm angry that I could be associated with and to some people indistinguishable from someone so horrible.
The thought that in someone's mind I am just like someone who doesn't work, who would lift a finger or pay a dime for the sake of her children, who lives entirely for her boyfriend (who is a loser) and who pursues her own superficial happiness before anything is not only infuriating, it's...it's depressing.
No matter how hard I work to support myself, to actually care about and minister to others and demonstrate that I actually have morals, I'm still that hedonistic prostitute. No matter what good I do, I shame my biological family, and maybe even my other family just as much as my dead-beat parents do. That makes me mad.
What my roommate grants herself the liberty to do doesn't really make me mad, even though it is extremely rude. The way she makes decisions for and speaks on behalf of me without my consent, that's a little abusive, but it doesn't make me mad. The way she never waits for anything but makes impatient, bad decisions that screw me over, that does make me mad, but not a mad as my mom does.
My mom takes advantage of everyone she can, and then gets mad at them when they don't want to take her crap.
The truth is everything I can't stand about my roommate just reflects my hate for my mom. And in truth, my roommate is a better duplicate of my mom than I am, by far. Although my anger at her is nothing like my anger at my mom. I used to, as a very angry child, envision killing my mom with an axe (in a cartoon sort of way)
that was an extremely bad time.
I can't stand being angry. It happened the other day and it scared me. I don't like how I can feel the heat burning in my forehead. I don't likehow it crunches up my brain with tensions.
It don't like how it fogs up my vision so i can't even see straight. I feel like I've been injected with hot sugar. All my veins feel grainy and on edge. I shake. I can't think properly because I'm so angry. I don't want to kill anyone when I'm angry anymore, but i do want to yell at them.
i especially don't like being self-righteously angry, cuz then I can't listen.
I could go through a whole nother SLT just to get through that. Oh well, these breakthroughs don't only happen at camp, Still, I have a feeling that wasn't my last monthlong stay at Cedat Campus. There's still Crew, Volunteer, or Staff, if i am so called. I really looked up to the non-staff volunteers, I could so relate to wanting to volunteer all that time and work just to serve SLTers.
Ok, enough rambling. At least I told the truth. Will would be proud of me.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
My Brother
For some reason, the constant theme of my past few months of life upheaval have centered on the theme of brothers, specifically older brothers.
I think I started to develop a need for it as I learned that my mother long ago had an abortion before I was born. I came to view this death about which I had never known as my lost sibling, particularly my lost older brother, although I didn't concretely set up the identity as my older brother until about a year ago. But somehow I had it on my mind. Between the feeling of having been cheated of part of my family, and the feeling of fatherlessness in the wake of my own father's flight, I built a hole in my heart for an older, male protector figure, who came to be the older brother.
So as I started acquiring connections with young authority figures, I recieved those relationships as brotherly ones. I'm sure I set up all of those slightly older males to treat me with sympathy and even pity sometimes, and to be especially caring for my seemingly pathetic and need self.
I never realized how important it has been for me to have brother figures in my life. I started to imagine that maybe if I'd had an actual big bro growing up, he might have protected me from my--our--parents. I can't know that, of course, I can't know what it would have really been like.
Anyway, my current, most important brother has helped me to realize just how important certain things are.
He has shown me the importance, for one, of viewing my male friends strictly as brothers, and not wasting time and energy trying to make them into anything else.
I've once again reached the point of no longer trying to fall in love with anyone at all, and trying to accept singleness as a good thing. It takes a lot of prayer.
I think I started to develop a need for it as I learned that my mother long ago had an abortion before I was born. I came to view this death about which I had never known as my lost sibling, particularly my lost older brother, although I didn't concretely set up the identity as my older brother until about a year ago. But somehow I had it on my mind. Between the feeling of having been cheated of part of my family, and the feeling of fatherlessness in the wake of my own father's flight, I built a hole in my heart for an older, male protector figure, who came to be the older brother.
So as I started acquiring connections with young authority figures, I recieved those relationships as brotherly ones. I'm sure I set up all of those slightly older males to treat me with sympathy and even pity sometimes, and to be especially caring for my seemingly pathetic and need self.
I never realized how important it has been for me to have brother figures in my life. I started to imagine that maybe if I'd had an actual big bro growing up, he might have protected me from my--our--parents. I can't know that, of course, I can't know what it would have really been like.
Anyway, my current, most important brother has helped me to realize just how important certain things are.
He has shown me the importance, for one, of viewing my male friends strictly as brothers, and not wasting time and energy trying to make them into anything else.
I've once again reached the point of no longer trying to fall in love with anyone at all, and trying to accept singleness as a good thing. It takes a lot of prayer.
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