Archive for September 2013

Patience

I’m not good at patience.  I think I can be, and I tell people I can be patient, but the fact is, I can’t.  It’s stupid. Like so much so that I get myself in trouble by convincing myself something else is more effective than patience.  Kinda sucks, really.

So sure, I can wait.  I can be good.  I can stand aside for however long you need.  Well, I can’t.  At least, past experience says I can’t.  I’m trying to do it but I’m not good at it.

There’s always a good reason why I should be patient but I always find a way to ignore it.  Sometimes things come along that reinforce my need to listen and be patient and that gets me by for a bit.  Today I got that.

Yesterday my patience ran out and things went bad.  Today I was more patient than yesterday.  Tomorrow I will be even better than today, and this weekend will be better than this week.  This time, despite there being no reason to believe me, will be different.  There’s too much depending on it.  As of right now, this moment, I’m doing all I can.  I hope tomorrow and every day after I can say the same thing.

There’s no happiness in acting otherwise.  None at all.

This post is purposely vague.

 

Faith

I’ve had a few discussions over the last few weeks with a local pastor.  As I told some friends of mine, I feel I’d be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t look into anything that might help me get better.  I’ve been in therapy for a few weeks and that has been very helpful, but maybe there’s more.  There are many people who I love and respect who save a big part of their life for God, and it makes me wonder if there’s something there for me.  So I’m wondering about it and asking about it.

One of my first questions was about the expectation of prayer.  What I’ve learned is that there should be no expectation.  God will answer in one of three ways – Yes, No, or Wait.  When praying for the “right” thing, I still don’t know how to tell the difference between No and Wait, but like my friend Becky said, that’s when you just surrender yourself.  That’s a difficult concept for me to grasp because, quite frankly, it feels like a cheap cop-out to me.  But maybe that’s the battle.  That’s “faith.”

I’m not there yet.  I’m nowhere near being there yet. I’m not ready to be a part of a church, or even be in a church.  I’m thankful for the guidance of this pastor and his understanding of my situation as I try to find out if there’s something there for me.  He doesn’t press me, and he helps me with anything I ask.  I feel as if I owe a return favor to him of being in attendance at his church, and in due time, with a few logistical issues worked out, I will do that.  I’m looking forward to it, actually.

In a long discussion over lunch, I asked the pastor if anything he did felt like it was good enough.  I expected him to say “of course,” and elaborate on that, but he said no.  This isn’t to say he’s dissatisfied with his work, because I feel he feels truly rewarded every single day.  But he isn’t infallible.  He isn’t supposed to be.

I found my way to him on the advice of some friends who do attend his church.  I sought his guidance in a general sense and he’s earned my respect and I now am comfortable sharing specifics with him, to a certain degree.  All he’s ever asked of me is truth in what I tell him, and I am happy to provide it.  He knows my position on faith and God, and he works with me in that regard.  I’m happy for his guidance.

But I’m still cautious.  I still need reassurance and I think I can only get that from within.  I’m not ready to give myself up to God and I’m not going to lie about my faith.  I’m just trying to understand the mindset of people in my life who have done so.  I love these people.  I’m trying to stop worrying about what isn’t there and start embracing what is.  I know time and patience will reward me.  I just don’t know how to absorb time and patience.  I need help from people, and this pastor is helping me.  Maybe there is something there.  I’m still learning.

40-degree days

My days are so up and down, even within themselves, that the up days regularly mess with my mind.  I can’t explain why.  I just don’t know.  I almost feel as if my comfort level runs parallel with the many days I’m down, so when I’m in a good mood I mostly just wait for my mood to fall.  Inevitably, because of that, it does.

Needless to say, this isn’t by choice.  I’m fooled into thinking I should feel crappy because of so much that I’ve been through, and maybe crappy is the new normal.  I don’t want it to be that way but I somehow trick myself into believing that.  Obviously this will be something to discuss with my therapist, and I hope she has some good insight into how to accept happiness, because I just can’t.

I feel like I deserve happiness but I also feel that every fleeting bit of happiness I get is taken from me for one reason or another.  I’m tired of the rug being pulled out from under me, therefore, I stop standing on rugs.  That’s probably no way to get better, but it sure is a lot easier.

It sure would be nice to have a string of 40-degree days.  Then maybe my ups and downs will level out a bit.  I keep waiting for that.

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My lot in life

A lot of things have happened since April, most of them new and crappy, some of them new and exciting.  Nothing has really gone the way I hoped or expected, but that’s not new for anything, right?  Oddly, to me at least, the last couple months have been considerably more difficult than the first couple of months were, but I attribute that to learning a new way of life in the shadow of this tragedy.  Now that I’m in a way that should be normalish, I have time to mourn.  I guess that’s the best way to put it.  I have time to mourn.

This isn’t to say I haven’t done so all along, but it’s certainly more prominent now.  In the meantime I’ve made new friends who have taken time from my old friends, but for now that’s just fine for me.  The old friends will always be there, and this is nothing that I’m taking for granted.  I’m just finding my way.  In addition, I’m making the most of my time with my new friends and being myself, especially with those people who don’t know me or have a set impression of who I am.  It’s refreshing and relaxing.

I don’t care to be who I’m not with anyone anymore, and this has come out with a few people on an intimate and very direct level.  But that’s okay.  I take my lumps from people who genuinely care for me and I dole them out to those I genuinely care for.  This is a new comfort zone for me because you only live once, and you only live for a short time.  This realization is something I’m grateful for in this whole fucking mess.  I told someone last week that this is me and I’m the genuine article, and I hope this person accepts that.  If they don’t, then so be it.  I am who I seem to be and that’s just good enough, as far as I’m concerned.

My new friends are pretty awesome at face value and I hope to learn more about them as the days go on.  I’m enjoying myself now because I’m learning to accept my lot in life and I truly feel that patience will serve me well down the road.  In that meantime, however, I hope to make the most of the friendships I’m creating without forgetting about those I’ve grown so fond of over the years.  My days are getting better and I’m learning how to keep them that way.  This isn’t to say that sadness doesn’t overcome me regularly, but I can tread water just enough to survive.  For now that’s probably just good enough.