July started badly. I had no energy or motivation. I was barely keeping up with a third of the activities that I listed on the last post. In fact I frequently made things worse for myself in the ways I chose to use my waking hours. A combination of that, and a lack of communication and understanding, led to fights with some of those closest to me. Gradually, everything was losing its meaning. This is not an anxty, grumpy teen thing; I really mean that I could find no purpose in any activity, belief or even relationship. I started to despise waking up...behold, the anger just continued throughout the day. No feeling, no colour, no meaning. Sounds depressing? Yup.
My relationship with Gabriella suffered, until the point where she gave me the verbal equivalent of a hard kick up the ass. It wasn't for being depressed - she also has depression! - but for my response to it and the rest of 'life' (whatever it is). I needed that rebuke. I wasn't being loving or respectful to myself, let alone those around me. I cried hard that night. We sob-talked. I also cried/silent screamed at God (it was 3:00am) since I felt pretty isolated and forgotten by Him. I hadn't come to Him in a while. I felt peace. I felt good for a while, though difficulties soon hit again, hitting hard. The events of that night did not occur in vain, though their effect did not last. I'm not mad that they didn't - I don't think they were meant to last any longer than they did.
I needed help. I needed it anew every day. Part of my situation was my fault, and part of it wasn't. Either way, I needed help. I don't mean medication, I mean change...from the inside-out. If I'm honest I'm still not proud of how I'm living, or of the thoughts going around my head now. Little seems to have changed in that respect. Am I always responsible for my thoughts and desires? No. I'm ill. Diagnosed. Four times. However, I am responsible for a good lot of them. The question is whether I am able to own up to my weakness in giving in to living in ways that harm myself and others.
Ron Dunn is a Christian pastor who has written some incredible books. In one, When Heaven Is Silent, he recounts the suicide of his son and its effects. Dunn's easily had his fair share of suffering. What he writes is quite astounding. He cites the account of Jacob in Genesis, who wrestles with God. Essentially, Dunn wanted to point out that our biggest battles in life are with God. Death. Illness. Confusion. Unemployment. Doing one's best and still failing. Does Job complain to Satan? Nooo. His friends and he discuss why God is letting him suffer. Dunn didn't battle with demons. He battled with His Father. I can relate to that. I don't understand why He does what He does.
My life still feels quite turbulent. I cannot remember when my fingernails were not completely bitten back. This process - of feeling confused, depressed and vulnerable, then clarity, enjoyment and a degree of peace - is continuing with no apparent end or purpose. It is like watching an endless tennis match...apart from, in this instance, I'm the tennis ball: thwacked and thwopped from one side to the other at 100mph. I don't know how to answer the question, "How are you?", anymore. Words require historical context to have meaning (one thing I am actually enjoying is Anthony C. Thiselton and the Grammar of Hermeneutics - fantastic book by R. Knowles. See p.143 for reference), and I feel like if I replied "I'm fine", then any meaning attached to that phrase is lost in the past; and that nobody, especially not I, can phrase my ongoing experience in a way that makes sense (think of Robin Williams in Jumanji, trying to readjust).
Most of the time I feel meaningless. I believe Jesus died for me, yet I still feel meaningless - how? Well, I guess I still don't understand such love. I don't think about it enough. I only have a tiny bit of faith, but that wee bit is in the God of the Universe, and it is the object of faith that is the deal-breaker. If you sit on a weak chair and believe with everything that it'll hold you up, that does not mean it will. If you sit on a strong chair, it will hold you up even if you don't consider it. The little boy who offered up his small meal of bread and fish happened to give it to the one who made it feed five-thousand. In the meantime, even though I don't feel it, I know that He won't stop loving me. I don't always think it, but if somebody asked me then I'd say it. I need to learn how to receive whilst I give whatever is left of me, however meagre.
It is important to say that there have been times in the past month in which I have been up and dressed before mid-morning, or done exercise. I have successfully started tutoring Spanish to a young girl. My drumming has improved. I have lost passion for my story, though that was to be expected and it still remains in the background. I have also spent a very decent amount of time with friends, old and new, which is generally what I enjoy the most...the issue is that it's also the most tiring. In some ways I am achieving greater balance in the time I spend with people (other than Gabby), though in other ways there is no progress. Really, I don't really know how to measure 'progress'. If my description of my current state does not seem accurate to any reading this who may have seen me recently, then let that help you see how turbulent I really feel.
I still need help, every day. When I recognise my need and ask for help from God, I generally don't end up in a heap on the floor. When I don't ask for help, I find myself in that heap pretty quickly. I am not strong. It's not easy to admit but it is simply part of what God asks for.
Apologies for the longer post. Thank you for reading. I didn't really want to post anything but I said I would. There's a lot more I could say, but I'll stop. That's it for July. Isaiah 55:9.
Thought for the month: I could not think of any self-evaluative questions, which oddly led me to the most profound self-evaluative question I've ever considered. After all of the of distracting questions that skirt around the edges of your essence, after everything else is stripped away, what is left? At the very root, what is left? Are you really being honest with yourself?
