This week has been an unmitigated, frustrating, disheartening, unfortunate disaster for me, and yet, as I write this, I am plagued by my own self-doubt. Does anyone really care?
I am forced to answer yes. So I push on.
Loss of independence in the form of vehicular transportation in a sudden and violent manner. Loss of comfort in almost every way. Loss of control of my own emotions. Loss of ability to roll with what's going on, and seemingly loss of anyone actually listening as I trudge on, because I'm too stubborn to give up. Or do people listen and I just don't understand that in my state of mind?
I am forced to answer yes. Onward.
To come to the point before this gets too tedious, despite my faith crisis, I feel as though God is trying to get my attention. In fact this was pointed out to me by one of my good friends recently. About what, I have no idea. What I am supposed to do next, I have some vague intuition, sparked by dissatisfaction, rage, anger, frustration, and desire for change - all emotions that make people uncomfortable.
Because I have to always be doing well. I have to never have difficulty in this life, or I'm not spiritual enough, I'm not following their feel-good god well enough. It's funny that I haven't read the book that they claim to follow in over 4 years and I still remember the promise that in this reality I will have trouble.
In fact, I find myself welcoming more trouble. I become lazy and complacent far too easily, and my ego is far too large. Not that I ever take it from people when they attack me directly, in fact the more that happens the more stubborn I become. Even if they are right and I admit it openly, I'm still being stubborn. Because what I am supposed to do is battle them to the end, fight the good fight over pointless accusations instead of becoming better.
Perhaps that is the point of why I like trouble: every time something happens that really gets my attention, it's always an opportunity to do better. Or maybe I just enjoy hearing the derision I always expect from others. Perhaps I always expect to hear that I screwed up again, that I am the reason for all of the problems in the world and around me, and that I should be doing better, just so I can stare back in defiance.
Perhaps I enjoy a good fight, because I've been prescribed this uncritical, blind obedience based, saccharine lifestyle for so long that when I have problems and I'm pushed to the breaking point, I know that I'm alive. When someone looks at me like they hate my very existence or when they argue every point and call me an idiot, I know I'm saying something of substance. Because what a person argues with strikes a nerve, and when a nerve is struck, something true has just occurred.
I asked my God for more tonight. After having an awful day, after crying in the middle of my shift and coming home dissatisfied after another night of dealing with frustration, I asked for more. I'm tired of not being truly alive. So if a disaster is what it takes, bring it.