A Month of Existential Crises

There is no way I could truly justify an account of my life over the past month in one post: it would be like trying to experience a rollercoaster from a single photograph (like those hilarious ones viewable at the end of the ride). The best I can give is a snapshot. I recognise that this is not at all unique to me, but since mine is the only experience I can recount, all I can say is that I definitely feel like my head is spinning a little more after this month in particular. Whilst I have intentionally tried to avoid making this whole blog-thing a vent for complaining, and tried to only describe anguish that adds to the purpose of this post, I'm afraid I've realised that that makes up most of it. I simply cannot make this month's post 'nice' - I have certainly kept it honest. However, I think there are still lessons to learn. Well, here goes...

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? 

Taking a Break - Kit Kat Scaredy-Cat?

I'd almost forgotten that I still have a blog, until I wanted to record my year off in a way that keeps y'all up-to-date. It should also keep me busy, whilst doubling-up as a reflective activity. I'll update the state of my well-being and spout my thoughts every month, at least until April 2018, when I hope to return to uni. Since I've only been off for a couple of weeks, this will be less of a blog input, and more of a description of my thoughts of leaving and my plan for the year.

Feel free to dip in to this as much as you wish, or completely ignore it...I mean, it's not like I'm monitoring who reads it...or am I...?

This picture not only the reflects the terror of my readers now realising that I sound like a stalker, it is also relevant to the theme of this first entry: is it cowardly to demand rest?


Our culture is keen to indoctrinate us with expectations. We should be married by thirty, we ought to get a college/university education, it's better to be rich, to look good, to smell good and so on. One expectation - one which particularly resides at Oxford - is the expectation to work until we've reached our limit...then carry on working. Look at the UK education system. It's not about learning; it's about equipping kids to pass exams so they can move on to the next step in the system. Children in Year 5 are now expected to have the same knowledge as those in Year 6?! Of course both the young people and the teachers are stressed! As we get older, what happens to sleep? Pah! Sleep later. It's implanted subtly at uni, though, so we think we are inflicting such expectations upon ourselves. It's not "You will finish reading two more articles then you will sleep", it's "I'll finish this, then I'll rest". Yes, arguably those who go to Oxford already have such mentalities beforehand, but the point remains that such thinking is encouraged. Success is prioritised over one's health. If someone prioritises health then they're self-obsessed. Do you agree? Do you know if you agree? If my words seem exaggeratory then...well, maybe you're right. But sometimes we have to shout pretty loud before we're heard, especially if it's shouting over something deeply-ingrained in our culture (on that note, please see my girlfriend's blog on identity and work).

Oxford is a stressful environment and I couldn't deal with the stress in my second year. Should I have just pushed on? No. In my case I was diagnosed with mental illness. It took me about 14 months to realise that life wouldn't be the same...that I'd have to rest more. At the moment, I need more rest than is available if I had 'just pushed on' at Oxford. We are not machines or gods, but humans. I'm not exhorting people to become raging anti-authoritarians, quit their jobs and live off the land. I'm exhorting everybody to listen to their bodies (and minds) and take their limits into account. Courage comes in different forms. Personally, I hope to recover so I can return in a state in which I can deal with stress. What about the meantime?

Two things about me: I get bored easily and I get (more) depressed unless I have some routine. Hence, if I am truly going to rest then I'll need to have a bit of a plan. It's unhelpful to watch too much TV/Netflix, but it's also unhelpful to do nothing but sit and (over-)think. I'll need to strike a balance. So, I plan on doing a variety of things to keep me from falling into bad habits.

I will be going to Church weekly (which hasn't happened for a while) and will be meeting up with my pastor regularly so that I'm accountable to someone with authority whilst receiving spiritual guidance. I plan on exercising regularly, combining workouts with running/cycling to get my heart going. I'm currently collecting thoughts to construct a story (there are actually a couple of hints of its style in this entry) and I'll update its progress on here. I hope to start re-improving my musical skills, on the piano, drums and bass guitar; the same goes for painting and drawing. I should see a counsellor regularly, hopefully starting soon-ish, and plan on reading my Bible and building my relationship with Jesus daily. I aim to tutor in Spanish and Philosophy over the next year (please have a look here! https://tutora.co.uk/tutors/aakp24r4) and to have a driving license by Christmas. I haven't been able to do a lot of this recently due to suffering from exhaustion (apparently sleeping 12hrs a day isn't enough) but I suppose that's where the need for balance comes in. Let's see what happens!

That's it for June. 2 Chronicles 7:14.

Thought for the month: recall the past six months; consider your worst mistakes and ways your relationship with someone/some others have improved. How can you prevent the mistakes from recurring? What can you do to allow improvements in your relationships to continue?

Prejudice and Pride

Firstly, I am not writing this to `Bible-bash` atheism. Many of you will probably be reading this through my Facebook page, meaning that you'd know my faith in Christ. I discovered YouTube videos of `Proof for God’s existence`, thousands upon thousands of arguments for God, and then those against God, then counter-arguments from both sides, and it’s ridiculous. Of course I want people to believe in Jesus, and there’s a time and a place for arguments, but a lot of the online debate is just becoming one side slagging off the other. Just wanted to point that out before saying anything else, as that is my strange little way of saying "Welcome to my blog!"…

`Blue Like Jazz`. The name of a fantastic book by Donald Miller, though a strange title. This book was bought for me by a good, wise friend. I literally the judged the book by its cover and title and thought “Meh. I’ll read it later.” Lo and behold, one year later I pick up the book and start reading it. And from the very first page I enjoyed reading it. It’s the kind of book where there’s a revelation on almost every page, yet every one seemed so simple after thinking about it for a couple of seconds. Profound truths are found within those pages. Trudat. However, this is not a book review so I’ll get to the point. I was expecting a good end to the book, but nothing like what I read. On the last page, summing up his thoughts, Don writes “If you haven’t done it in a while, pray and talk to Jesus”. Wow. Why was that such a shock? Allow me to explain – and this is the reason for this blog…

I have had a pretty tough month. By the end, I was drained. Drained physically, emotionally, and crucially, spiritually. There are certain things that shouldn’t be shared online, but everything that I put on this I regard to be as appropriate to share. I am writing this for the hope that people may be able to take something from what I have to write. I don’t consider my thoughts or stories to be amazing or particularly special, but I think there are things to take out of every situation.

The reason for my difficult month…was pride. It was my own fault. I wanted to do something, and when I prayed, I felt that God was saying the contrary. For that reason, because of my pride and stubbornness I did not want to spend time with God. So I didn't. I just sort of stopped. That turned out to be more of a stupid decision that I initially thought. For when I pray, I change, slowly but surely. When I stop praying, I still change, just in ways that aren't positive. Previously, at any times that I have not prayed, I have become impatient, arrogant, unfocused, and less resistant to things like temptation and anger. C.S. Lewis writes of pride in his chapter `The Great Sin` in Mere Christianity. It's so true, read it, he phrases it much better than I ever could. He essentially describes pride as being "the chief cause of misery in every nation". I felt that misery for a while. I became a not-very-nice person to be around, I thank God for my friends who always stay with me.

Now, I am not suggesting that non-Christians are monsters. Of course not. I know so many wonderful non-Christians. What I'm trying to say is that after being in a relationship with God, and abruptly stopping it, I have been affected. If there is no God, I cannot comprehend as to why I would have this horrible weight on my shoulders whilst not putting aside time for Him, and that the moment I thought, THOUGHT, that what I was doing was ridiculous and I needed to go back to God, I felt an instant peace and the lifting of that yoke on my shoulders. Forget doctrine and any complex theological thinking for a while. I am talking about real life. I think the Church has gained the image of using jargon in the wrong places, not making the truth of the Gospel applicable to everyone. If you're not a Christian, I'm telling you of a God who's not aloof and distant, or cold. I read recently of someone who said that they didn't believe somebody could genuinely love God. I'm sorry, but I do. I believe in Him, in what Jesus did, and how that truth changes my life today. "I am a friend of God, He calls me friend"

Finally, I failed the Giraffe test. (A test where you're given a riddle that if you fail your profile picture becomes a giraffe for three days.) Now, I'm glad I got it wrong. It taught me a lesson in my pride, as I thought it would be easy, and so gave the wrong answer with a sneer of self-confidence on my face. That sneer turned into a frown, before finally becoming a half-smile as I realised my pride. Time for that to change.

I apologise for the length of this post, as for my first one I wish to give the correct impression, and give the thoughts I want to give. If you've made it to here, well done, and thank you, I hope this may speak something to you.

Psalm 46:10 "Be still and know that I am God."

P.s. Anybody else who uses a blog notice that the spell-checker on this thing doesn't recognise the word `blog`?!