Convention's Aftermath

So I went to the International Convention this weekend.  And looked at nrop on Monday night.  What a stupid piece of refuse I am.  Soak in HS, then splash around in Satan's pig pen.  You're never going to come clean dude.  I can wash off and change clothes, but then the dirt just soaks my clothes from the inside out.

According to the convention I need to:

1. Read More
2. Pray More (as much as is necessary to stop feeling anxious.)
3. Look up what is already written about my problems and try to apply that,
4. Stop feeling sorry for myself, wash my face and help others

Then I have this date with Kyra.  I'm not as worried about that, These things never work out.  It was rare that it did the one time with.  It won't be long before I see that look that tells me she is feeling sorry for me to be followed soon by impatience as the second hand crawls around the dial in silence.

There is the Speed Dating thing this weekend, Actually, that's probably the real trap.  I'll stay away from that.  First smart move I've made since "coming back" from the Convention.  I figure that even if it doesn't go awful with Kyra, it won't go so well that I would be willing to plunk down another grand to see her again for another 2 hour dinner date.  (not including dinner, drinks, gift plus tip.)

I can't believe I'm doing this, but I can't seem to get out of it.  I clearly need a generous application of number 1.  I am trapped so tightly I just can't move one way or the other.  This trap I am in is so diabolical that there must have been an intelligent but  Machiavellian entity that devised it.  I need God's help but I won't ask for it.  My prayers are not being heard -- I believe.

Bad Weekends Running Together

So I busted the July 4 weekend.  How?  Well I broke my fast (I'm sort of OK about that) I ate too much on the first day I broke the fast, I ate too much on the second day, I watched too much TV (yes, I broke my rule against TV).   I did go to the meeting and I went out to dinner with the Ex.  (Calling her Ex now instead of bitch.)  That was ok but she preached to me the whole time.  Oh well.  That's who she is now.  All that having been said it is the only productive thing I did over the weekend, except I did go to the meeting.  I saw someone there who moved to another congregation.  It was a couple and I met the man outside and the woman was inside near the entrance.  She saw me and I went over to shake her hand and ended up giving her a hug.  Wild.  I never give anyone a hug unless they insist.  I surprised myself doing so.  I think she was shocked.  It may have been b/c she (and her husband) were only the third person to invite me over to their house in a serious way.  (That is they invited me directly, as I recall, without demanding that I join their Bible Study, and for a purely social visit.)  No one does that who is currently in my congregation anymore.

Not to me, that is. They of course get together among themselves it is just that I am not included.  I am quite certain that it is somehow my fault.  I think I might have made a kid feel bad at church yesterday.  there were 3 or four people greeting guests at the door.  He was one.  I had already shaken hands with one and knew I was going to shake hands with another, He was standing right there and I did the old look past you and pretend you aren't there.  People do that to me all the time.  I am trying not to care about it but I know it hurts on some level.  I will have to greet him specially in some way, maybe ask his name or something.  I should not have done what I did.

I went to a convention this weekend,  This one was really well done.  I can't explain just how, but it wasn't just more of the same, talk after talk about the bible.  There was something more compelling about it but I cannot say just what it is.  It has been a little while since I had been to a  convention entirely alone.  It was really OK though.  I wasn't feeling unduly oppressed or sorry for myself.  They distributed a video.  It shows a family in a moderate stage of spiritual melt-down.  It was not nearly as bad as what I was dealing with.  My family completely disintegrated.  The people are still there miraculously, but we are not a family anymore.  I am just glad that no one is df anymore.  (That's the miracle.)

I had a super unpleasant dream Saturday night.  Creatures like the ones on Cowboys and Aliens invaded.

Driving back from Raleigh, the convention tunes are reverberating in my head.  It is a good thing.  But I have also checked out Kyra's site.  A reminder that the demons in my mind are very much aware that I am trying to force them out.  They aren't ready to go anywhere.

Another SOC

My head is just swimming with thoughts.  I had a pleasant dream last night.  First I can remember in a very long time.  It was about meeting a woman that I was truly interested in and, equally important but exceedingly rare, she was interested in me.  She was rather young but very pretty.  She didn't seem to mind a casual touch and at some point in the dream she sat (cross-way) on my lap.  I can't exactly make out where we were, certainly not at home though.

Of course I don't put stock in dreams.  I think they are a reflection of what is going on in our subconscious mind.  I do not believe they are portents for the future.  But I think that in my heart that I believe I look better than I do.

I am still affected by a civil war battle scene I saw on TV.  It was grizzly, similar to how I imagine war would be.  The thing missing is that I was sitting in air conditioned comfort.  I wasn't being shot at, in hand to hand combat, or lying face down in a crater of a battlefield lined with bloody mud with close packed men fighting for their lives on top of me.  I honestly believe that one cannot experience war, without going to war.  I imagine that Armageddon will be similar.  Maybe this time I will be face down in bloody mud.  I am such a wretch.

Where to go from here.  I just can't seem to figure out what to do next.  How do I get up out of this mud?  I have to have God's help.  How am I going to get that if I won't pray, study, or go to meetings regularly.  I suppose the answer is, I won't.  So I am stuck in this blood soaked field, with men fighting for their lives on top of me, waiting for Armageddon to take my life away (if I don't do it first.)  I suppose my stream of consciousness (SOC) is getting worse.

Another Busted Weekend

It's Monday morning and IHMS as much as ever.  I had dreams that I remember this weekend.  They were bad.  In one I was back at college.  It was evening of 2 days before classes started and I hadn't begun to unpack my stuff.  I kept running but could never get to the front door of my dorm.

I'm totally ashamed of this weekend.  I ate too much.  Watched TV all day Saturday and Sunday.  This morning driving in I decided I am going to 1)Fast for a week.  2) Cut off TV cold turkey 3)Go to all the meetings, and 4) Start working out again.  I give myself a 5% chance of doing all 4 and a 20% chance of doing one of them.  Oh well, gotta have goals, right?

It's Thursday and I am still fasting.  Yea so far!  I did go to the meeting Tuesday. Yea so far!  I have not watched any TV. Yea so far!  I have NOT started working out again.  Crap!  Well, 3 out of 4 is better than 2 out of  3, and we all know that "ain't bad."  (Yes, of course:  ought to be a song . . . Meatloaf  . . .)  I did some reading on fasting and found that you can keep going until "true hunger" sets in.  They say you'll know it when it hits.  I don't think I am close to hitting it.  I just hope to make it for 7 days.

So there is this big International Convention coming up on August 1 - 3.  And dummy me, I just committed to being out of town from July 28 - July 31.  Getting back after 9:00 PM at Regan National.  How foolish am I?  Very.  I just can't believe I just did that.  And for someone who has only traveled 3 times in 5 years, it is just so very sad.  I started to say:  "I don't know why I bother."  However I do know,  these are all feeble attempts to SAVE MY BACON.  Armageddon is coming and, though I frequently contemplate suicide, I want to live.  The desire for suicide is a desire to escape the pain I am in.  God sees fit to let me undergo that pain.  But in actual fact I do want to live.  You wouldn't think so by my actions.  

I'm Going Under (There ought to . . . you know, Amy already . . )

So, No one is reading my blog.  That's fine, I am writing this for myself first and foremost.  Honestly I wish I hadn't made it public.  Oh Well.  So 15 days have passed since the last blog post.   2 more broken weekends with too much to eat and not enough sleep.  Oh, and I broke my vow against tb until 2020.  I guess that had to happen.

I keep thinking about how to get out of this mess.that I am in.  I keep thinking that the Elders should be able to help, but they don't know how to motivate me to study.  OTFW.   Not to say I am finished with the topic,  I will keep right on thinking about it and waiting for the opportunity to discuss the issue with someone who will listen and who is willing to help and knows how to help me.  I shouldn't have to wait though.  God has given me everything I need to manage.  I have the meetings, endless publications, a new easy to read bible.  I just despirately dislike the company of his servants.  I guess that goes to show that I am not his servant (as If I didn't know that already.

8:00 am need to work  .  .  .

Lunch time on the same day now.  I haven't had a chance to think this over anymore.  But what is there to think about?  I don't do what God wants me to do.  I know what he wants and refuse to do it.  I hate myself for it.  The trouble is that God also hates the bad things I do.  He also hates the fact that I know better and refuse to budge.

As I think about it I never feel like I am worth anything if I am not working but purely having fun, I reel really small.  Maybe that's why I work so much.  I remember at college, the 2 times I felt like I was successful in chatting up a girl was when I was pouring drinks at a party, and when I was working in the library.  In both cases I was like a completely different person.  Interested, lively, a little bit of intelligence showing through.  And the girls had a good time.  One even reached out a bit, but I didn't recognize what it was and so I lost the opportunity.  Now I know that it is a good thing that I did.  At the time I just didn't know what was going on.

What this all boils down to is can I turn myself around and start reading the bible and being a good person in God's judgment?  I say it is possible, yes.  It just isn't probable based on my lifetime of choices.  Now that I have the benefit of experience, one would think that I could leverage that to make better decisions.  Hmm, that actually sounds logical.  Maybe there is more hope than I thought.  Glad I thought of that!  Or was that God intervening?  I'll probably never know.  Especially if I am ultimately unsuccessful.

So, now, how can I use this information to be able to chat up women better in the future.  I have no fracking idea.  It is just good to know in case the situation presents itself.

More Misery

And here (the frack,) we go again.  Thursday morning and I already feel like sh*t.  Way, way the hell too much to do.  I need to work for 24 hours straight to begin to pull my head out of the backlog I am in.  Then I would need to get about 12 hours of sleep and do it again to get my head above water.

Friday morning and I didn't work out again.  My belly is big and tight.  I ate to much (as usual.)  I do have good food for lunch, strawberries, oatmeal and nuts.  (Not like "this is nuts,"  more like "cashews are my favorite nut."  I am really tired, as usual.  I listened to the bitch drone on about the upcoming convention.  One would think she is putting everything together herself the way she talks about it.  Actually, never-mind.  If that's how she sees herself, it is better than where she was just a few short years ago.

I am less and less inclined to spend time with her.

And on Monday I saw yet another broken weekend in my rear view mirror.  Now its Tuesday.  Meeting night.  Oh d*mn the war (of Armageddon) is coming (there ought to be a .  .  .  Within Temptation already .  .  .)  I'll be a casualty if I'm not dead before it starts.  I want to say I can't live like this, but that is all I have ever done isn't it.  I've stumbled from crisis to crisis, flame-out to flame-out.  I have never had a stable and consistent situation.  I was either in school and struggling to learn fast enough, or working a new job and struggeling to get along, or bought a new house, or just got married, or just had a kid (along with a new job and new region) or just moved (again and again and again) or just lost my job, or just started a new career, or just got involved with a start-up company, or just got a new job, again, and again, and again, or dealt with a health crisis or just got divorced, or just kicked my kid out, or just got fired, or just almost got fired, or on and on and fracking (for you Battlestar Galactica fans) on.  Always in flux, never steady state.  Now there is a new boss coming and a different management style.  I am sure that will be yet another challenge.  It is just getting so very tedious to keep moving forward.  I really, really hate this.

So my son, who is now getting way back into the religion, came by to see me last night.  I had just missed my 5th meeting in a row and he wanted to try to help me get my act together.  I agreed to have lunch with him today, b/c I could only talk a few seconds  last night.  It really comes down to the fact that going to the meetings is painful and I can bear that pain only so long.  He counters that I ought to pray more and ask for help to want to do the right thing.  He prays for "a new heart," and it makes him quite happy,.  So bottom line is that he thinks I should lean on God more.

What Ending for the Wicked (Like Me)

A fresh page.  I suppose it could be intimidating if I were writing for real.  I see the TV images of real writers focused on a blank page.  It used to be a literal blank sheet of paper in a typewriter.  Now it is a blank page on a computer screen most often (as it is here.)  I am listening to one of my favorite musical artists, Epica.  The lead singer is so very versatile (and gorgeous.)  Her classically trained voice stirs my soul such that I can lose myself in the music.  I could close my eyes and just listen to song after song.

I am listening to it now because this genre helps me to work when my energy is at a low ebb.  Somehow listening increases my drive and determination (at least for a little while.)  I am afraid of relying on it too much, but I love the feeling with which I am imbued as I absorb the sound, mood and emotions of this artist's performance.

So that isn't what I logged on to talk about.  It does help me start to fill the page, though.  I'm not so intimidated anymore.  On the other hand this is probably just as, if not more, interesting than what is really eating at me.  I'm just in despair again.  Not doing anything and thoroughly acknowledging that I will die as a result of my inaction.  Mental confusion over why I have wound up like this, and despair at being unable (seemingly but not actually) to do anything about it.  I know that God wouldn't leave me here if I really wanted to change, so I know that I don't really want to serve God.  Not because I can feel that deliberate rebellion in my heart, rather because if I did want to serve God, I would be a different person.  My brother, dad and mom will be so disappointed when I am not there in paradise.  My despair will reach its zenith as I watch death approaching, at God's hand.  Likely a painful and violent death, that I will have time to consider as it approaches for days possibly even weeks.  I guess I would want a few minutes to process it.  I doubt it will be so quick though.  I imagine I will realize the loss of all hope days or weeks before it comes.

I keep thinking that when I do come to that realization that I will cease the wickedness that drove me to that precipice.  This will, of course, be driven partially or even largely because I want God to reconsider.  I do hope that some altruistic notion remains such that even though I know my life is lost, I would want my final moments to be good ones, not filled with a hurry to drink the pleasures a last dollop of wickedness may afford.  I don't believe that would even be an option.  I imagine, believe, I will die largely alone, in pain and with the crushing burden of knowing that there is no longer any hope, that the final end will hurt, a lot and with all worldly pleasure totally gone and meaningless.  I imagine the last moments of my life will be in agonizing pain and mental torment.  The fact that others, the ex, the kid, the sibling, will survive, if indeed they do, will be of small comfort as I believe that the then current suffering will such a recollection impossible.  How can you consider anything as you are dying from radiation poisoning, ebola virus, or being hunted by wild animals, human or otherwise.

This is what I think about in calm moments.  No joy.  I tried buying presents for myself.  It just doesn't work at all anymore.  Maybe this is what is driving me to spend thousands for a positive and pleasant evening.  If it weren't for the IRS, and my attendant stupidity, I would do it in a heartbeat.  (And then I wonder why God won't shine his light on me, not to say that he hasn't.)

More Sh*t

I am starting to loose my working edge.  I am wasting more time and taking more la la land breaks.  I am worried, not excessively so but I can feel dullness setting in.  This could be really bad.  I need to get a hold on myself and turn this around.  (Now just how the hell am I going to do that?)

I just have to keep working late and coming in early.  I really, really need to come in this weekend to get the reviews done for my people.  Oh yes, and mine as well.  I am tired, sleepy, and can't wait for this week to be over.  It hasn't been "that" bad.  but I feel stretched and uncomfortable in my own skin.  I think it may be a result of having the inflated anticipation for talking to Grace, and then to Kyra, and then Tara.  It's not going to happen though.  It is just too expensive given my current volatile state.  I need the cash for the IRS.  I just can't believe how stupidly I continue to act in this regard.

I just can't see myself lasting through this.  And I can't see myself being "ready" for Armageddon for another 5 years or so.  It's all ugly.  There seems to be no way out.  (There ought to be a movie .  .  .  dang, its been done.)  I have read over and over, and have experienced it in my own life, that with God all things are possible.  I guess that only applies to those who truly want to do his will.  And I have demonstrated that I am not that sort of person.  I haven't given up entirely.  I thought I would a year or so ago, but I just couldn't toss it all over and live a life of moral abandon.  I so dearly hate what I have done with my life, but I must suffer through the consequences.  The ones manifest now and those yet to appear.  Of course the consequence may include Death at God's hand, from which there is no escape.  And I just can't seem to fix this.

So I am discovering that I am fixated on going out with an escort.  No matter how impractical and expensive it is, I keep looking at profiles (both the ones previously identified and new ones,)  thinking about how the date might go, what questions I might ask and such.  Ultimately though I would have to select a card and put 1K - 2K USD in an envelope knowing I won't see it again.  I know I will think about buying a surface (or possibly other ways to use those funds,) and I will back off.  I suppose Grace is the only one I could really see making me actually moving forward.  However I am well aware of my mind to play this sort of trick on me.  Thinking I am standing when my legs are rotting from within leading to a seemingly sudden shift away from any previous resolution.  I know how stupid it is but right now, I would say that I have a 50/50 chance of doing it anyway.

It's Monday morning and I am looking back on another busted weekend.  Nrop, TV addiction, missed meeting and, of course, no work done.  I didn't even pick up the laundry or mail, much less the needed medication.  I even drafted a letter to the most expensive paid companion I have yet to come across.  I didn't send it but I was close.  I suppose I just want some level of association really badly.  It reminds me of my decision not to invest in a PC when that was on the leading edge of a revolution.  It is obviously not even close in comparison.  But my mind has put this meeting on that level.  It is like I really want to believe this is a pivotal meeting.  One of critical importance.  Of course it is just a trap.  A money, and mind trap.  I think I will have a "sort of" good time.  I will either have  a great time or will have an almost good time that I will think can be improved with just a little extra effort, a little more money, a little more pre-work, a little more cologne or whatever.  Oh, and I wont have the MS Surface(R) that I could otherwise have.

Not it's Tuesday and I am becoming convinced that the positive momentum of the last few weeks has completely reversed.  I am now rapidly descending in terms of my ability to work hard and accomplish work, spiritual or home based objectives.  I shouldn't be overly concerned.  It is just as serious as any other situation encountered thousands of times earlier wherein my life and my commitment to God is tested.  I practically always fail.  As I am sure I will again in this instance.  God wants me to succeed.  I behave as though I want to fail.  The situation is such that I want the candy Satan holds out, but along with it he requires me to release my commitment to God, which I have relinquished (though grudgingly at times) more often than not.