… well, is there a but? For most people I’m sure there is a but, or a lot of buts.. For me, admittedly, it’s difficult to see “the good things” in life.. Beyond being thankful for being alive and for basic human needs I am extremely, insanely, beyond words thankful for my family! There’s no question that without them I wouldn’t be here, as in alive.. I may not always feel close to them, but I’m closer to my family than anybody else.. They’re my link between me and the outside world.. I cannot even begin to describe how much I love them or how much they mean to me.. I can only hope that I mean the same to them, all of them, as they mean to me..
I don’t think a moment goes by where I’m not loathing myself, who I am.. I hate that I can’t make connections with people or that I’m awkward and say stupid, out of place things.. I feel so inferior, in every way, to pretty much everybody, but especially when measured against my family.. They’re dedicated, hard workers that always persevere and have the strength to get through with an optimistic outlook.. I feel like people think all I’m capable of doing is wallowing in self-pity because life is hard and didn’t turn out the way I had always imagined.. I feel like I’m gonna be looked at like I’m always “complaining” instead of trying to make the world understand life from my perspective.. I was once told, by a “psychiatrist”, that I “play the victim”.. Insinuating that I like to feel horrible all the time, that I want people to feel sorry for me and to do everything for me, that I somehow enjoy the twisted thoughts that go through my head and the staggeringly depressing emotions that flood my veins.. I was describing to her the psychosis I was experiencing that made me feel unsafe in my own home and she, very coldly, told me that my fears might be warranted, that I might actually have reason to be afraid.. She floored me and made me feel so vulnerable and scared.. With that statement she validated my feelings of being unsafe, like she was saying that the dark presence I almost always felt in the room was really there and that I should be afraid.. She obviously didn’t care about the damage she did with those few words, but she made me think my psychosis was very real and she made me question the validity of my mental illness.. I don’t even remember her name or what she looked like, but I’ll never forget her words, the pain she caused me.. I often hear those words ringing in my head, questioning how much of what is wrong with me is mental illness and how much is my own deficiency..
If you were to ask me to come up with five things I like about myself I wouldn’t be able to name them.. If you were to ask me to name three I don’t think I’d find that many.. I’m told that it’s all about fighting the negative thoughts and controlling the inner dialog, but when, since you’ve been conscious enough to remember, you feel that you don’t measure up it’s difficult to battle and not succumb.. I know that it’s my own unrealistic standards that I’ve imposed upon myself that I fail to live up to, but that doesn’t matter, rational thinking often goes flying out the window.. I often wonder if I’m subconsciously manipulative, selfishly trying to work things out in my favor.. Am I only ever concerned with my own needs and not those of the ones around me? Am I self-absorbed? Am I a selfish person who only sees my own struggles and fails to comprehend and understand the difficulties my family is going through?
I’m an inward thinker, but does that make me a selfish person? I’m not outgoing, I’m not bubbly, I’m a deep thinker who likes to analyze things, maybe even overanalyze.. I want a deep connection with someone, a mutual understanding of who we are, but I am afraid of “putting myself out there”.. Everyone fears rejection, that doesn’t make me unique.. Everyone gets nervous, that doesn’t make me unique.. Everyone has been burned, that doesn’t make me unique either.. Here’s my thing, I have a debilitating anxiety disorder that makes me cripplingly afraid of experiencing those things again.. I wonder what would be the point of even trying.. I’m not necessarily one who believes in predetermination, but I do believe some people are just meant to be alone, never finding their “soul mate”, never making a life changing connection with someone, never getting married; and that’s me.. I used to pray, beg, plead for “the one”.. I did that for 15+ years, hoping for a guy to enter my life that I could share my life with.. And never an answered prayer; definitely not a yes, not a no, and not even a “not right now”, just nothing.. I don’t know how many nights I literally (foolishly) sobbed myself to sleep asking for an answer.. I still, to this day, have received no answer.. Which leads me more to question this :
Does God concern Himself with the daily workings, the daily lives of people? Sure, He sacrificed His Son to save us, but are we such small, minute beings that He has too many other things to worry about? Is our daily life on such a small scale that He doesn’t bother with it anymore? Does He answer prayers? If so, in what way(s)? Is anything predestined or is everything a free-for-all? We have free will to make our own choices, so why should we think that anything is already decided for our lives beforehand? That wouldn’t give us free will anymore.. Why should we think that there’s a certain way things are supposed to turn out so we better make sure we make the right choices and follow the script?
Along the same vein, is it possible for people to change who they are? Like, fundamentally, at their core.. I think most people can make just about any change they want if they “try hard enough”.. But what about people whose body chemistry is screwed up? What about those whose hormones are out of whack? What if there are people who deal with both? How are they supposed to change “who they are” or how are they even supposed to know who they are? What if there’s someone (say me, for example) whose body chemistry and hormones have always been incapable of being properly regulated? Someone who almost feels like a different person every day, sometimes several times a day.. I often feel like I don’t even know myself, so how is anyone else supposed to?
I know, woe is me!, but I feel hopeless, helpless.. My body, which is deteriorating quicker than it should, is giving up on me, it’s rebelling against me.. I’m 34 and I’ve got arthritis in several spots on my body, I’m practically bald already, I’m tired and weak all the time (probably the fibromyalgia).. I am, and have always been, hard to treat (any ailment, physical or mental), because my body is resistant to medication.. I often have to take a higher dose than most people or than is recommended on the box to get any relief.. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother? If I’m doing so poorly then what’s the point? How do I find happiness while dealing with all this, and that’s not even taking into consideration the stresses put on me because of what those around me deal with.. Knowing their pain, their sadness, their discomfort, and discontent and not being able to do anything is so difficult.. It makes me feel like I’m worthless.. Not only do I not have purpose in life, but I can’t make life any easier for those around me.. I feel like I don’t ever even do anything to make any one of them happier.. My body screams at me when I try to do anything even remotely physical, just walking up and down the stairs I feel (and HEAR!) the grinding of my knees.. My back hurts just from bending over a couple times or trying to carry a few loads of laundry or help empty the van after grocery shopping.. It’s not like an “oh that’s a little achy”, it’s like “holy crap, my back is seizing up and I can’t breathe!” I guess this is more of my complaining and woe is me crap.. I dunno.. I often feel like my whole existence is pointless.. My family cares and they love me, I know this, but how do I positively impact their lives? Do I at all?
Does God care if I’m still alive on Earth? I don’t have purpose or, as I’ve posited before, is my purpose to suffer? Am I one of those people who will always wrestle with my inner “demons”, so to speak.. Will I ever do anything meaningful? Can I? Am I capable, physically/ mentally, of doing anything but wallowing in my own misery? Do I bring down those who try to help me and lift me up? Surely any relationship with me is exhausting.. I must be a difficult person to connect with and be around..
It’s just that life sucks and is there a “but” …