A story that nearly had an ending

TW: The following post contains language/imagery that some readers may find upsetting.

The flood waters had been rising and falling as they do.

Then, they rose.

From multiple sources, all coming in; very subtle at first so I was unaware for a long time. I'd notice things were off sometimes, but only when my thoughts were already out of place. Ehhh.

Then it worsened.

It became more obvious: I started noticing the water, where it came in. It had already become stagnant in some places; it would require a proper effort to clear it. Efforts were made, but never fully successful. How could they be?, when nasty-smelling stuff was rising up without even attracting my attention.

Going to uni was the game-changer. The new experiences. The opportunities. A new style of life! It felt great. Little did I know that the consequences of both old and newly made choices, combined with different types of stress, led to the gradual opening of separate floodgates. When I realised what was going on, it was far too late. I got help - I had to be rescued. I'd slipped over on the wet floor: this became a regular occurrence. I let people in. We tried to look for the sources to plug them, but the water levels kept rising. There was some apparent progress at times. Illusory, unfortunately.

My inner quality of life deteriorated. I lost the ground floor and had to survive upstairs. People helped; lo, 'twas a complex situation. Eventually I had to give up uni in the hope that the stress would stop the pungent waters rising. It did so for a moment, but the other sources opened up, or restarted their spewing of the unhealthy fluids. I tried sorting things by myself; sometimes making things better, but more often worse.

I began to camp in the bedroom. The chamber of pleasure and rest became my survival raft as the waters still rose. Tough decisions and unfortunate events occurred. Things only got worse. From the outside the house was still standing and appeared functional, though its owner was in torment and debt. Those who ventured in could see the trouble. Some swam to provide supplies and comfort.

Finally, I moved into the attic. Dark. Alone. The black, lifeless water cutting off hope as it lapped up to the hatch. Only in sleep did I drift away to warmer tides, even feeling sand between my toes before waking up shivering. A few books. Late-night comedy. Alcohol, cigarettes and pornography. Starting to lose oxygen. Cried for help. A few came but didn't know how to help; or if they did, it oft-times made me worse. Underneath, the floodgates are open and still flowing. Any effort was futile. Darkness all around: outside-in; inside-out. My eyes strain to see the letters I read or write. Bed's soaking. Everything stinks.

The end is inevitable.

How did it get so bad? Didn't I try?

Should I just wait in agony, or do it myself? No; wait, hang on. To what? Do it. No, I'll keep trying.

Don't bother. It'll be ages before you're missed. You're only endangering the houses on either side. You're the cause. You're the problem, you always have been.

No it's okay that's not true. I'm loved and have hope...

Hope? Hope?! You idiot. Just finish it; everyone'll be better off.

No...stop!

Die! No! DIE! NO! DIE! DIE! DIE!!!




Angry parents. Abusive nurses. A cannula in each arm. Disbelief all around. Such potential, nearly wasted.

"We're all our own solutions."

F*** off.

Back in the attic. Quiet. Water gently rises. Thinking. My stomach rumbles and gurgles; I have no appetite. More thinking.

"Get a job" - get your head outta your arse. Night becomes my day. Little sleep.

2 a.m. Wakey-wakey.

I still love Him.

CLUNK. A few of the floodgates close.

I still love Him. I feel betrayed - that's why I don't talk to Him - but He hasn't changed. He didn't shut the floodgates...but He didn't let me drown. A peace. A presence. Warmth in the cold. Hope. True hope. Somehow, He's in control. A smile. Colour.

A sigh. Okay, you're here. But...there's so much to do. Everything's rotting. Everybody's so worried and hurt. Where do I begin? Seriously? Hello...?

Psalm 46:10.

Fin.

RESURRECTION

I can tell everybody who feels out of control or hope that THERE IS HOPE! True, grounded, effective HOPE! I repeat: THERE IS HOPE.

You don't have to solve it all! The pressure's off! He has a plan, just accept it from Him! I know it sounds cliché but it all fits and it all makes sense - best of all, it's true!

I still have depression, anxiety, addictions and personality disorders mixed in with a whole load of other shit that all needs dealing with and of course I'll have bad days but now I have a reason to look up! The reason. No more of this "My girlfriend keeps me going", "New meds will do it", "Dogs", "Yoga", "Sex", "Weed", " Retail therapy"...they're all replacements!

He made you. You weren't known and loved by Fido or Ralph Lauren before the beginning of time but by Jesus!

Look at my writing. Look back. See how different it is. This is not some ridiculously orchestrated religious feat to 'get you over to my side' - I have had the worst year of my life and genuinely attempted suicide twice last weekend. Read the accounts on my blog of loss, pain, numbness, doubt, anxiety and general misery that has defined my life for months. Read it. It's all true.

But last night, at 02:00, I woke up and realised I still love God and somehow he's still there - as in here - and that my eyes have been opened to the fact that there's HOPE. The only real hope I've ever felt (again). Thank you to those who've been praying for me. Now, just as the Gospel writers testified to the new life and HOPE they found in Jesus, so am I doing the same now. He's the same, it's all the same, it's all true.

I don't know about the future. I may die tomorrow. My depression may get even worse but at the present moment all I can say is what I know about the past is true and frankly, since that's the case, then our lives have eternal consequences; and I think I've been through utter shit so that I can wake up those of you who are trundling through this life without realising the gravity of living everyday without Jesus because we need Him. I need Him. I kinda knew I did but was blinded to just how much I need him - don't scoff; don't be that stubborn old man who doesn't go to the GP before it's too late. Jesus has given us our diagnosis and we need to wake up and accept him!

I might be depressed but I'm awake, and it ain't hypomania because I understand the gravity of not accepting the true source of life! The Bible says we're dead in our sin if we don't accept Him! Dead! Don't give me those comfortable, actually-really-outdated arguments like "Well, we don't really know what happened" BLA BLA BLA WE ARE BEING OFFERED HOPE AND JOY AND LIFE AND IT ALL SEEMS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE BECAUSE GOD IS AWESOME AND YOU WON'T SEE IT UNLESS YOU JOIN THE PARTY (NOT THE POLITICAL KIND).

Share this, get talking: this is good news, people - think about why it's called that.

Just because this country "used to be Christian" (I am not denying that, I just don't like the phrase) it doesn't mean it can't be again! (bite me)

HOPE HOPE HOPE HOPE!

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT'S LIKE?!

Nothing can promise the future unless they're god-like...or God! No human, no Government, no job, no relationship, no ideology, no philosophy (stfu Hegel); nothing human-based can promise hope because hope is based in the future and none of us have been there/ are capable of envisioning it, let alone planning it. Let me assure you from experience that plans mean nothing. What is a plan? An idea? Even if you have things in place, there is nothing to stop those falling apart because everything is fragile. Millionaires have become homeless. Scared? Good! WAKE UP! We can trust Jesus!

What's gotten into me? Life. New life. A good friend of mine had the insight that I was exhausted...not (just) of energy, but of life. Now I have new life and HOPE. Jesus is real and you need Him. You can choose to go your own way (love a bit of Fleetwood or Chris Rea) but let me tell you that being self-obsessed/self-sustaining/self-focussed does not get lighter. It does not get more fun. Being surrounded by oneself gradually twists one's thinking; it gets darker, lonelier and colder. You do not give yourself life; you never have. You got it from your parents and you keep it going by your environment. Don't settle for biological life but come to the source. LIFE. LOVE. JOY. HOPE.

If this seems off to you then that's probably because your view of God is off. That's usually the case - it was with me.

Are you excited by this? Get talking and reading! Confused? Get talking and reading! Angered? You get the idea!

If you're indifferent then this isn't your time. But if you're engaging, DON'T STOP! (really got a Fleetwood theme going)

Why are you still reading?!

WAKE. UP.

JESUS IS ALIVE.

Ask

I have written an account of why I attempted suicide, but I cannot make it public for the sake of those whose similar condition(s) I may worsen due to the account's very depressing nature.

Should you wish to read it, ask.

Message me on Facebook, Gmail, or leave a comment.

Why have I written it? To get it off my chest. To seek attention. To raise awareness. To correct the view of some people who still seem to view me as some sort of knight, valiantly fighting a tough battle when I'm actually a frail, selfish boy. A bit of each of these reasons, perhaps.

I know there are a few out there who understand my situation...I do not know whether that makes me more glad or sad.

"One forgets

that one is one.

I must try

to

remember this."

- M. Danielewski, House of Leaves.

"When you feel so tired but you can't sleep,

Stuck in reverse"

- Coldplay, Fix You.




You're a bit late, Chris.

You're the judge (oh-oh): Excerpt from journal 27/12/17

Started 'Texas Chainsaw' (not original). Usually I'd been v. critical, but I was actually satisfied. The characters were interesting & relatable, the scenes weren't OTT or 'slow'. Was this an average film? I want to see what others say. If the other reviews are condemning then it'd suggest I feel less condemning - if not then I'm not the thing that's changed & this movie was exceptional in its normality. Made me think: why do we judge? 

Overwhelmed at Q's and A's. 

If we haven't listened. If we sit thru a 'bad' movie but listen to the director. Seems fine in intentions and qualifications. Cameramen? Fine.

Is it bc it doesn't suit my taste? Or the publics'/critics'? Or our ideals? If somebody likes it, is mocked & later leads a revolution in the film industry w/ its legacy - are they a genius, fool or lucky bastard? 

Did you answer? Was about to write "fool!" for your judgement but then I'd be a judge, let alone for guessing the future. Is that allowed? Where's the line? Is deconstruction necessary, & if so, how far? 

Sometimes we're encouraged to "see past" the bad acting, poor cinematography, or tacky CGI. See past...to see what? Does a good plot save bad acting? What about if it's all but its core message is 'racism is bad'? Oh that's obvious now..., well what if it's to an area where that isn't obvious, like the UK or US? Does it depend on the film? The time? Place? Audience? Individual? 

One who supports orthodox (probably) "No!"

One who supports cultural relativism (probably) "Yes!".

Did I just reveal sth obvious & embarrassing that'll be pointed tomorrow, & sth in 30 years? Yes. That's for sure.

May write a blog & include that. Get praise, v. clever. Big my ego, just like now. "Oooh...awareness!". "Good for you". Not the gentle voice of God.

Still a fool. Still don't know most things. Still in the dark. Does that make sense? Should I scoff at making sense? Should I pity the scoffer? Should I rebuke the pitier? Should I judge the rebuker? Should I judge the judger? Should I love the judger? Should I pray for the lover? Should I covet the pray-er? Should I judge the coveter? Should I teach the judger? Should I teach the ones trying to answer these? Should I rebuke them? Should I entertain them, like I'm entertaining myself as the all-knowing one, like the ethics teacher who can see the elephant? Should I criticise myself? Should I ever stop

criticising myself? Should I start loving myself? Should I expect answers? Should I work for answers? Should I wait for answers? Should I try more or less? Should I start sleeping? Should I write sth clever? Should I write sth humble? (Clever people being stupid is humble). Should I thank the academy? (Woo fight club) Should I stop here? Should I stop being self-aware? Should I stop being self-aware-self-aware? Should I show off every area of possible interest to look really good? Should I keep reading Einstein, Sun Tzi, Pa...

There is meaning. I can hear it, in the quiet. So far away. "Hello?!" 

Try again in the morning.

That was fun. Now 00:30 - early night. Mind's racing now.

- Don't worry if this doesn't make sense. If you do up on the more playful nature of this entry, please don't commit a logical fallacy of composition and suppose I'm "fine" in general. Didn't sleep until 04:00 haha. Plans are hoping ahead for me to live in a 'supported living' centre for a year, though it's very pricey so I'll make a FundMe thing for anybody who would like to help - regularly or not.

The woes of a young, white-British, middle-class male

So, I visited Oxford. I hoped to have a simple trip, but due to bad luck and bad choices I'm now back in Torquay. I expected to receive money from SFE by 6th October as they had promised in July, but it turns out that they had thought I was returning to uni as a full-time student. Hence, I went to Oxford expecting to live off of a loan, but instead used money I didn't have and ended up more bankrupt than my homeless friends. There was one week when I only had one guaranteed meal per day. I relied heavily on friends for more support than they should have given. I continued trying to do things for others. I suppose that never really stopped. I love people and want the best for them, and I like to help with things to ease the burden for others. I was able to do that and I hope to continue doing so. It's very important to do that. I think it was my attitude that changed. I seemed to be switching between feeling very sad/defeated and angry/content with being selfish - even now, I only occasionally feel willing to humbly make the best of things. Keep this tension in mind as you read this month's post.

As soon as arrived in Oxford, it became clear to my closest friends that I was not in a good place. They soon expressed concern...for a variety of things. I had assumed I could simply travel up and spend a little while relaxing with friends; evidently, I hadn't realised how the events of the previous few months had affected me. Two close friends expressed concern that I was seeking help at the bottom of a bottle rather too easily; another said I wasn't being myself in how I was relating to others in that I wasn't being as considerate as I used to be. These were true, among other pervading issues. I tried to improve things. It was a struggle: I'd expected to see the uni psychiatrist, the chaplain and perhaps my old counselor to discuss how to improve things; I hadn't expected to receive advice/criticism/concern from multiple sides. I was told that I had the strength to improve things myself. Maybe I did.

But I didn't care.

There's a parable in Matt. 13 that talks about seeds, which represent the message of God's kingdom, and how it's received when heard. One analogy describes how thorns choke up the growth of the seed so that it dies. Jesus' explanation of this is that somebody hears the message, but the worries of the world kill off any fruit/growth. Over the past few months I've felt those thorns creep up my legs, digging into the skin as they become tighter. I tried to shake them off, but every effort I made would only seem to worsen things. Several times I felt like giving up, yet somehow I managed to carry on. This month, the thorns felt like they reached my neck. So, I gave in. I accepted my weakness and apathy. I stopped caring. If you've tried to make good and right decisions but only been let down and let others down as a consequence, yet you've managed to maintain healthy coping mechanisms, then I commend you. I failed to do so. If you haven't been in that scenario, of seeming to only make things worse despite trying to make good decisions, month after month, all while dealing with mental illness, then don't think to judge me. Or...you can, but I won't engage in conversation with you. Ain't nobody got time for that.

During a breakdown I had in Oxford, I realised that I no longer expected answers. As someone who's believed in a loving God all his life, this was tough. This realisation was accompanied by a release of built-up frustration and fury: I destroyed by brick phone, spent a good while punching the shit out of the punchbag in the rowing room and wept so hard my whole torso ached for the next two days. About a week later, as I was sat alone in the library, I came to understand that since that breakdown (as well as the time leading up to it), I'd been distracting myself so I didn't have to deal with that question of why nothing's seemed to improve. Questions without answers. Classic, yet novel. Where does one go from there? Should I have asked more questions? Narp. No thank you. Well, I did. I struggled on for a bit, but ended up in the same place. So I stopped struggling, let the thorns engulf me, and gave into the temptations set before me. I reckon that the newer friends I made on my trip will be/have been surprised to look back on my blog/profile to see my call myself a (dedicated) Christian. Sure, I helped people out and did my usual tidying up after others, but that was accompanied by leaving my own mess behind in drunkenness, and language so foul you may as well have called me Slim Shady. Do I have anything to say for myself? Aaahh...not really. Not yet, anyway. I'm just thankful for the new friends I made, who didn't hold me to any expectations.

My college did want to help, but they're not a clinic. They are a college at the top university in the world. If an unstable suspended student runs rampant on the campus then things will only go downhill: they have 200-odd students and staff to prioritise! I appreciate the effort they put into helping me and hold no grudges against their concern to balance my needs with everybody else's. (I did get rather sick of hearing, "Have you thought about getting some form of part-time job?" as if a. I haven't, or b. like that would suddenly solve my situation.) They have permitted me to return for one weekend later in the term so I can update them on any progress (always nice to be optimistic eh?) and to allow me to visit friends once again. 

I am writing ironically, as the title of this post should suggest. I have loving family and friends, with a warm place to stay. I cook for myself, and watch movies most nights whilst eating Haribo (is product placement allowed on here? If not, kiss my ass). If I were to add "heterosexual, Christian and living in the Southwest" to the title description then it may illustrate just how privileged I am. Yet I'm still bitter and complaining. I don't even know. This is probably quite rambly and may not actually seem coherent; but again, I'm just putting my thoughts out there and I'm just trying to remain honest. I guess I have some integrity left. I sure hope this somehow helps somebody, 'cause I'm struggling to find a 'lesson for the month'.

Now? I'm looking for a job, since I will no longer be supported by SFE and need to settle debt; it is also a good way to pass time and 'create meaning'. At the weekend I visited my lovely sister in Bath uni, and stayed with family in Gloucester where I spent a day working on the farm. I suppose I have calmed down since in the past couple of weeks. My initial draft of this was still pretty angry. I think my time in Oxford elevated all of my emotions: elation, sadness, confusion...now they're all just below average, so I'm a bit numb.

That's it for October. Enjoy Halloween, whether you're worshiping or mocking Satan, or neither.

No clever title for this month

I have no idea what to write for this month.

Two weeks ago I wrote a draft that was angry and expressed my increasing confusion at the apparent absurdity of life. Life had become tiresome, like it was running out of fuel. I've spoken to friends, mentors, pastors and even gone to see psychiatric nurses (the worst appointment I've ever had, but that's another story). I felt like I'd done my best at trying to help myself and all I'd done was tire myself out; naturally, I wondered why I should bother, and started to stop caring what people thought of me or my actions, since nobody could hold it against me that I hadn't at least tried. I was particularly frustrated and bored with attempts to 'make my own meaning'. 'Roads' by Portishead or 'From now on' by Supertramp were two songs that accurately reflected the spirit of my life. Then, the other night, I had the realisation that God loves me, which is something I'd not considered or really believed for months. Through that, I realised how it is love that holds all things together, since life without love lacks meaning, warmth, drive and desirability. I still wanted to write an angry blog (why do I keep writing 'glob'?) and so I tried to deny that realisation. I couldn't help it though; it just went round and round in my head, warming my heart. The next morning, though, I was back to feeling like Camus was right: life is absurd.

I suppose I've been given a choice, in that I know that the love that comes from God (reflected in the first two commandments) is what provides meaning, but will I choose to believe that? Anything else - any attempts to 'make my own meaning' - is like being outside on a winter's night, drawing a picture of a fire and breathing on it in an attempt to create warmth. It's silliness. The book of Ecclesiastes comes to mind. All truly is vanity. 'Hevel': a mist, or a breath. I could put my everything into a family, or a job...even a charity; but at the end of the day, everybody will die and everything will eventually turn to dust. Why bother? I have been going slightly mad, to an extent, rather like The Master in Dr Who. I've stared into the vortex of time, of apparently endless nothingness in day after day of mind-numbing repetition, and it's had an effect on me. A good friend I've recently made met up with me a few weeks back. We'd both had a bad week. We talked...and laughed. That's all I can do. I've cried, screamed, sat and stared in silence...but nothing quite expresses how I feel, except for laughter. It's not a malicious laughter that enjoys others pain like some sort of Bond villain, but just a helpless giggle at the craziness of it all. Life is not what I expected it to be. I have a loving family, friends, food, a warm bed and much more, yet I'm going mad. The majority of you reading this will probably think I'm sounding melodramatic, and that's okay. Maybe it's just my depression, or a 'quarter-life crisis'. Y'all don't know all that's happened, and I won't waste my time trying to convince everybody that I'm not being a drama queen. Why would I bother, after all? Ahahaa...

I met up with my pastor a little while ago and described everything to him. He reckons that something isn't right with my view of God. I think he's right. Looking back, I didn't think God loved me. Going by my experiences of the past couple of years, I felt little reason to believe that - though my depression almost certainly had an effect on my hindsight. I felt bullied, by a cruel bully. I could have avoided a lot of pain, but I felt like a lot of it was not a result of choice. However, knowing that God does actually love me changes everything. I've been trying to hope without love, which meant all hope is empty and actually undesirable. Faith without love is bitter and stagnant, relying on rules and unable to help itself from just being 'religious'. People drift apart without love. It goes deeper: without love, everything drifts apart. If you don't love your work, it becomes a chore. If you don't love a partner, they become exhausting. If you don't love food, you won't make a proper effort to eat properly. If you don't love your body, you won't take care of it. Entropy is inevitable. Everything falls apart. I've been dying. Not physically (yes, I get that we're all dying, har-har, smart-arse), but emotionally, mentally and spiritually. Life without love, is dead. I couldn't help thinking why I hadn't yet committed suicide - the depression doesn't help, but it was more than that - since life without love is an oxymoron. I have previously written that God is the source of life and love. Those are inseparable. God=Life=Love. Remove one and things start to fall apart. Love isn't inherent in the natural world, according to Darwin: ‘Man descended from apes, therefore we must love one another’ (Vladimir Solovyov). It requires effort. It requires effort that I don't have. I need an external source. My life kinda still had God in it, but I didn't think He loved me. Therefore both my understanding of God and my actual life started to fall apart. Trying to have love in my life without God doesn't work because I can't provide what I don't have. If you can, great, but I can't.

I didn't know what I'd write until I started writing. I'm still angry. I don't want to believe. I'm going to be visiting friends very soon because I can't stay in Torquay any longer. I want to be distracted all the time. I feel like a burden to people, though I'm not quite sure what else to do because I've tried so many things and listened to lots of people in trying to help myself. Now, I'm out of energy. I don't deserve any commendation, since I'm not intentionally 'making it through' this. I'm being dragged through it, face-down. I make things worse for myself a lot of the time and am sometimes very tempted to just buy a ticket to the Philippines and disappear. I don't know if any of this has helped anybody, it would be nice if it did. I didn't really want to write a blog, but I promised I would, and I'd be annoyed later if there was a gap where this month's post would otherwise be. If it's confused and bitty, then it's perfect.

That's it for September. I haven't got the energy to think up a thought for the month.

Lessons from heartbreak

In a kind of irony, last month's 'thought' became a reality in my life, as I gave up that which I considered most precious to me. It had been building for a while, but it was only after a day of hard-thinking and an excruciating night of emotional pain that I accepted that Gabriella and I needed to break up. Looking back on my journal, I wrote of the pain that genuinely felt as if my heart was being ripped out. Neither of us have felt that level of pain, due to how close we were. Even now, there is nobody on this Earth who knows me like she does. The last thing we said to each other on the day of the break-up was "I love you"...and we still love each other exceedingly.

So why go through all the pain?

Because of love.

Eh?

It's true. Throughout the past year, she has essentially kept me alive. She has understood my struggles and my pain like nobody else, because she was going through the same thing. I wouldn't have made it through this year. We learnt how to distract each other, how to help each other cope and eventually how to start recovery. There have been plenty of issues surrounding our relationship and all of our struggles, but a main issue that remained was the bad habits we had assumed whilst trying to cope with the turmoil inside our heads. Unfortunately, we found we weren't strong enough to stop these habits whilst we were still together...in fact we ended up urging each other on, most of the time. This counter-intuitively worsened our mental health, since it was damaging our relationship with Jesus and hence causing anxiety/guilt etc. By July, there was a lot of 'fog' around every aspect of our relationship that prevented us from simply being around each other. I felt uneasy when stepping into Church, and jealous when she would worship God as her first love, the latter of which set alarm bells ringing.

Lesson: We are creatures of habit. Fellow followers of Jesus, if you find yourself in a habit that is contrary to the ways of the Spirit (Rom. 8:4-8), do not kid yourself into thinking that it won't (continue to) affect your life - including relationships - if you carry on.

Ultimately, we ended it. We obeyed God. My pastor, Tim Smith, spoke on how obeying God means to walk in his commandments, on Sunday evening. In John 15:10 makes it clear that we must obey the commandments given by God; in Mark 12:28 and Romans 13:8 we learn that the Law is summed up with commandments to love God with everything we have, and then to love our neighbour as ourselves. If I love God with everything I have, my manner of living will change: I will be spending time with God and we naturally become more like those with whom we spend time. There will always be a disparity between the ideal lifestyle of a follower of Jesus (the way Jesus lived) and the reality; indeed, Jesus seemed to have a soft-spot for outcasts and scumbags. The important thing is the mindset: 1 Sam. 16:7b "man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart". Do I want to be more like Jesus? Do I want to have more love for God, myself and others (when you're connected to the source of love and life, it flows naturally to all areas of life...the stronger the connection, the more it overflows)? If I do, then I will be more inclined to let God in - He knocks, but He does not barge in. If I do not, then I need to seek advice or help, or make a necessary change if I'm able. 

Whilst Gabby and I were together, we were hindering our desire to be more like Christ, or were blocking our own/each other's paths that would allow us to continue on our journey with the Lord. Upon realising this, I could choose to try and keep the relationship going on our own strength, though it was already showing signs of stagnation, or I (we) could give her (each other) up back to our creator. One choice was selfish, the other was selfless. I didn't want to do it, but I knew I should. Now that it's been a few weeks, I still really want to be with her, but I am glad we made the decision and have stuck by it. I cannot deny that I wish we would be together someday in the future (which she knows), but only if that decision is triggered by God, which nobody can predict. So, for the foreseeable future, we are both committing ourselves to our Creator. I have seen great change already, in the peace I feel, the dissipation of depression, and how my mindset has changed to be more selfless. 

Lesson: "God has no grandchildren", I heard somebody say recently. It's very true. If He adopts you, which He so wishes to do, then expect to be disciplined like a child. He's not malicious; "For He disciplines the one he loves" (Hebrews 12:6).

Though this month has been painful, it does not call for sorrow, but rejoicing. God is working in my life. If there was no God, or He did not look out for my best interests, then none of this would make sense. I would not have been willing to go through the pain - if you disagree, then...well, get your head out of your ass - and I would not have stuck to it. I certainly wouldn't be feeling peace and joy right now. God wants to heal broken hearts.

That's it for August. Hebrews 11:6; Psalm 51:17.

Thought for the month: To whom/what are you answerable? Partner? Friends? Yourself? Anyone who has an opinion? Now ask yourself why. If you feel able, consider what you'd do if they left or passed away.