He said, ask anything

I am trying to limit my time online. I was becoming increasingly depressed about the state of, well, everything. The mainstream media insults our intelligence by only reporting news which has been approved by "higher ups" in the broadcasting industry. This means we get watered down information or bloated information depending on what the real agenda is behind the scenes. So I look to the internet to tell me the truth, and the truth is mostly always ugly. I'll be in a good mood and forget that our government is marching us towards socialism/communism and then I'll read something that reminds me and I start sinking into a pit of despair again.

I have been making sure that I stay committed to my running again. I feel less pessimistic about the world for at least the couple of hours it takes me to work out, cool down, shower and get on with my day. I feel peace in those two hours, and there are even moments where I can convince myself that we are not doomed, that something or someone will intervene on our behalf and save us from our traitorous government. I'll be quite honest--I've handed it over to God because I do not know what else to do. On my good days, I am convinced that evil will not prevail because no matter how powerful evil forces can be, God, in His infinite goodness, is the ultimate superpower. I find myself praying all the time--for guidance, for strength, for patience, for hope. I have spent inordinate amounts of time searching for answers, for truth. I read everything and I am open to all sorts of different opinions on things because I think it is a mistake to think that there is only one way that is the right way. I've read articles by people who say there is no God and I can understand where they are coming from even though I do not feel that same way. For me, it's essential to believe in God, to know that He is somewhere watching over all of us. I try not to question if my faith is a result of not being able to bear the thought that God doesn't exist, because I pretty much know I couldn't bear the thought of that. So it's settled for me. There is a God of goodness and light and I pray to Him always to watch over us and keep us safe. I pray for the destruction of the evil people who are ruining everything. I don't even care if this is an awful thing to do because it feels right to me. I'm sick and tired of being kind to people who wish to do me and my family harm--so I wish on them what they are doing to us--times a million.

My washing machine broke today, so I had to run out and buy a new one but it won't be delivered until Wednesday. By then, the pile of unwashed clothes ought to be up to the ceiling in the laundry room. I usually can't skip even a day or I end up being sorry that I thought I could get by without doing at least one load. My life is one thrill after another, to be sure.

I am struggling to find a balance between acknowledging the alarming reality of our changing world and living my best life, and it is proving to be quite the challenge. Sometimes I wish I didn't know so much, that I didn't search and search and search to find out truths that take some of the color out of the world for me. Still, I think I'd rather know than not know because at least I will not be surprised, I will not be caught off guard. I've always hated surprises unless the surprises are diamonds or sapphires or rubies.

Searching for something

To combat monotony in my life, I have taken to cooking new things. Every week I ask around the house for suggestions and someone always comes through with an idea and I make it. I've tried lots of different things and I've had more hits than misses, however I think this is mostly about having a challenge, of doing something different. My life has come to this: I cook for a little excitement, to say I've done something new.

My youngest has only 1 more day of high school left. I thought by now my heart would be breaking with sadness for all the time that has slipped by without me really noticing. I thought tears would constantly be at the ready to fall and fall some more. But here I am, not really all that wistful or sad. I cannot cry for what I am losing because I need to focus on everything good that is in front of her. There is a world out there with its arms open wide just waiting for her. I pray the world is gentle with her, with all of us she leaves behind.

I had a bit of a meltdown last weekend and if I must say so myself, it was not one of my brightest moments. I feel this ticking inside my head sometimes, like a bomb just waiting to go off at the smallest of provocations. I've learned to turn it off a good deal of the time, but there are moments when it gets the best of me and I lose control. Afterwards I feel like such a loser--like I will never be able to rise above the pettiness of life and people because inevitably, I engage in these despicable scenes where I don't know who I am anymore. And I could not even tell you what was really wrong, just that everything felt too much and one wrong word sent me over the edge. I resolve not to do it again until I do it again then feel rotten for my lack of self-control.

I'm still searching for the truth in religion, God, faith, church, life. I have this idea that the truth should be simple, clear, static. I think that the truth should not be subjective, depending on a particular agenda we might have inside our heads. It's like molding a truth to what you want it to be. That's not real. But I'll read something about church/God/religion and it will strike such a chord with me and I think that I have found the truth and then I'll read something else that makes more sense and completely leave the first truth to stand behind the second truth I've just found. So I think--what is it? What is the truth? Are there as many truths as there are people in this world, or is there one truth that I must dig and dig to find? And will that truth still be the same 10 years from now, because I want it to be the truth 10 years from now and not have to find out that I've had faith in something false. So is it that I'm afraid to be wrong--or wrong again? I think I am. It's not like I haven't been wrong a million times before. It's not such a big deal. If I'm wrong, life will go on and I'll just believe in a new truth. I should be happy that my heart is open to hearing everything and sifting through it all to try to find what I am looking for.

The hard work of staying positive

I have to work really, really hard to remain positive. I have these tapes in my head that play over and over again when life threatens to bring me down. I tell myself I can do anything. I tell myself I am good enough. I tell myself that I am willing to do most anything to avoid failure. I talk and talk and talk to myself inside my own head and amazingly, it keeps me grounded and keeps me on the path of positivity. But I will not say that it is ever easy because it's not. It takes constant vigilance on my part because it seems like there's always something or someone wanting to rain on my parade. I get sick of those people and those things that want to bring me down. I want to tell them to fuck off and leave me alone.

One of my biggest secrets is that I sometimes dream of packing a bag, getting in my car and driving away forever from everyone. My family does not know this about me--that I could leave and never look back. I can imagine cutting the strings that tether me to a life that is at times so tediously mundane and unsatisfying...and drifting far away. I never know if it's braver to stay or to leave because I always choose to stay. I think staying is safer. I think leaving requires a courage I'm not sure I possess.

I don't like when I am feeling a certain way, and I express those feelings, how I inevitably get told that I'm over reacting or over analyzing or over dramatizing things. It's like I can't tell the people I live with what is in my heart and trust them to hear what I am saying. They want to hold up a stop sign when what is reflected back to them isn't something they want to see. I feel forced to own my feelings and keep them locked inside or else risk being told that what I am feeling can't possibly be what I am feeling. I don't know what more to say except that it sucks. I'm not asking for the world or even for other people to agree with me. I just want someone to tell me that they hear me without also needing to negate those feelings in such a way that I'm left wondering why I even bothered to speak at all.

So the work to stay positive is never ending here. I can physically feel the pull downward and have to find somewhere or something to hold onto so that I am not tempted to drop down into a pit of despair. So I keep telling myself to hang in there. I put on my tennis shoes and blast music in my ears and I run as if I am going somewhere other than in circles.

I never give up.

I go on.