One Step Forward . . .

Sliding back into the muck of depression isn't a pretty thing to watch.  You struggle, rationalize, watch mistakes happening feeling powerless to stop them.  Now I am watching my body stretch into grotesque shapes as I see the results of my attempts to calm my mind with food.  The words of others just seem like infantile babbling.  I reach to the old stand-by for solving problems; I try to think them through.  It just accelerates the downward spiral as I see the interconnects that make the issues seem so intractable.  I think of the mistakes I made in the past that have lead to such a miserable life.  It is not like I am a poor hungry child of warfare.  They can't help themselves.  More like a fat and spoiled brat addicted to money.

I think about the mistakes I made that led to bad decisions of my children and realize that I share huge responsibility for their demise.  All of them!  I am sick at heart, ugly to God and deserve nothing but death at his hand.  I listen to myself and Satan instead of that which few people have the chance to hear clearly,  What an idiot I am.

And I know it will get worse.  I am a coward and cannot stand the impending doom.  I am under shadow, I've lost the light.  I know where to run but feel paralyzed.  I can't move even though I know that I must be able to do so. I just watch for the first pressure wave.  And I know its going to hurt, a lot, until I am finally dead.  Dead at God's hand.  And yet I am so thoroughly trapped, I can't fix it.  I can't get out.  Even though I must be able to or it would be unfair.  And above all things mentioned thus far, God is not unfair.

How I hate this.  I want to bring the curtain down, but I keep thinking that there must be a solution.  There must be a way to motivate myself to do those things I have to do.  I am so ashamed.  So totally ashamed of who I am and what I have done with my life.

Moods

Two insights about my overall mood.  1)  It is cyclical and 2) the overall direction across several cycles is negative.  Let's look at each.

1)  The cyclical nature is coincident with God only knows what.  I am sure there is a spiritual component, but it is if there is a huge delay between spiritual progress and the resultant impact on mood.  I can remember an instance where I went out in Field Service and that afternoon I felt this real "high" that I knew was a joy coming from having done what I knew I should be doing that morning.  Of course that was over 20 years ago.  More recently I spent several months gradually increasing the the "correct" practices: study,  meetings, prayer, service (the quad.)  Mood inched higher but given the level of effort (10 hours each week minimum) I was surprised at how imperceptibly the needle moved in any given week or month.  While the change was positive, the rate of change was abismal.

2) A year ago I was in a deep and dark place and would have thrown it all over if I hadn't fallen into the arms of a pretty good psychologist.  At 140 per session every other week and 160 per session for the psychologist and 300 /month for the medication, I chose not to keep it much longer than a few months.  It dug me out of a deep hole though.  Now I spend at least that much per month buying shit I don't need.  I get that little boost that lasts for a few hours when I get something new I like.  The disappointment that comes when I get something that is broken, or was different from what I ordered disrupts it though.  But I just buy more stuff to make up for it.


A few other observations:

1.  My mood can amplified and, strangely quelled, by listening to coincidental music.  In other words if I am feeling angry and frustrated, if I listen to music that inspires the same, then I feel more angry and frustrated but the also provided a relief and makes me feel justified in my anger and frustration.  I can feel the tension flowing out as I listen.

In a word, I guess, I'm tired.  I know it's all my fault but that doesn't make the tired feeling go away.  The only people who seem to want to talk to me are either disfellowshipped or they hold me up on a pedestal that I find extraordinarily uncomfortable.

So all 4 (count 'em 4) people that have any interest in talking to me are either "off limits" or take more energy than I am prepared to give.  And I don't want to go back to the congregation because they are so well versed in making me feel like crap.  Not unless I roll over and expose the vital organs.

Its party time!

I am just not quite there yet.  I don't know how much more of this I can take.  I hate what I am feeling.  To be specific, out of control, embarrassed and disappointed at the massive failure such as is my life.  It hurts like hell and the constant foreboding of worse to come is maddening.  To know that God is there willing to help and that I choose not to reach for that help is just so crazy insane.  Why do I not do this?

I know I can be stubborn, but this is truly absurd.  So every now and then (more then than now)  I find a way to get myself moving again.  I don't seem to be able to do this at will.  I want to make it happen, but it just seems out of my control, even thought I know it isn't.  I am just waiting to see how "motivated" I get when the GT starts.  Or I might just flip the other way and say "it's too late now! and party my way to hell.  Of course I doubt that will be an option.  I think I will be caught unable to do anything just waiting in he muck of the life and this system until my end comes.  What party?  there won't be anyone in a party mood at that point.  Least of all me.

And I know it's coming.  I know God is right,   I know the path to true happiness.  I just refuse to do God's will, ludicrous!  I am turning my back on God.  I am killing (have killed) my family and I am forced to watch it happen in slow motion powerless to turn the flow of events.  I am killing myself as well if there is enough time before God's judgment arrives and does it for me.  It's what I deserve for this immense collapse.  It doesn't take a grand master to see the checkmate's approach.  I've lost my nearly all my pieces and the most powerful piece I have, indeed the most powerful piece on the board, I ignore, choosing to scurry around the board trying to do the impossible, survive without God's help.

Showtime!

And so here I am again; "its showtime!"  This is the moment where I wrap myself in a persona of confidence and purpose.  Like doing this crap is of any importance in the grand scheme of things.  Yes, it's better than robbing banks for a living, but if I don't get my life in gear, I'll be just as dead as the bank robbers after armageddon.  We both have a sword of Damocles above our heads and while they differ in weight and hone, they both will kill.

These days I just want to get it over with.  I have been picked up and am on my way down again.  I don't even brace for impact anymore.  It all hurts just the same.  No point in protecting the vital organs, it's just a matter of time before everything is ruined beyond repair.  What an ending I have allowed myself to suffer.  If only I had  .  .  .

Maybe I could just .  .  . who the hell am I trying to kid.  Falling through 3000 feet, it won't be long now.

His Universe His Rules

So what do you do when you are buried so deep that the only sound is each new shovel full of crap hitting the pile.  I want to turn to God but I am so embarrassed I can't look up.  Not having the benefit of all that he would provide.  And, if Jesus, a perfect man spoke to him constantly, how much more so does this miserable sinner need  help, but I still ain't askin'.

I see the mistakes, current and past.  Yet when the next choice comes forward, I miss.  Again and again I miss.  I am falling deeper into my own grave.  Deeper from the level that brought on severe depression.  I don't see how to get out of this, not in a productive way.

It is like all the resistance is being steadily worn, blown, eroded, exploded away.  My resistance is down and just the raw nerves are exposed.  My mind is crying out to just stop the pain.  There is only one way that seems to be like something that I could do and follow through on.  I know the other way is possible but I have clearly demonstrated to myself and others that this is not something that I am willing to do.  Turning to God is possible until he makes it impossible.  He is approachable and hears prayers of the righteous.  However I am not righteous.  I am his enemy.  I hate that I have been unsuccessful in turning this around.

Why does He demand this humiliation.  I don't know but He gets to do that.  It's His universe and His rules apply, that is if we are going to stay alive.  Why would I be willing to take something of His.  People often claim "It's my life"  but in my case it isn't.  I dedicated my life to God.  I haven't followed through on this commitment.  Never in my life for more than a few months at a time.  I just can't get it together.  I hate what this has turned me into.  I know a very little something about God.  He doesn't tolerate partial devotion.  As far as I can determine, I am a dead man walking in his eyes.

What's Left?

Another bad weekend.  On a positive note I got the laundry done and straightened up a bit.  I even did a small amount of cleaning not that anyone would notice except in before and after photographs.

I stopped multiple times to look at nrop; this and eating are the only fun things left to do.  It's so pathetic.  So I heave a big sigh and continue doing the things (and failing to do the good things) that result in this mess of a life I now lead.

I am deeply ashamed of myself.  I hate what happened and the fact that I am not fixing it.  In fact I am still headed for Tarshish having been swallowed and spit out at least once.  I cannot abide my disgust for what I have grown up to be.  I am afraid to seek the truth from God and I am addicted to the trappings of Satan's world, those few I have been able to taste.

Sweetness of intensity such that one could imagine is too intense to survive and followed by deathly sickness that cannot be survived.  Instant addiction that will swallow years if not all of your life.  This is the "benefits" Satan's world brings.  And here I am, fully warned, and fully addicted.  Covered in refuse and lit aflame.  I want to point the phaser at myself, I don't have the strength to continue to withstand the pain.  Alone and ashamed

Well let me turn my attention to work.  Maybe I can forget about this for a while.  There is just nothing left, is there?

Inside Out

Wow, I'm slipping precipitously now.  That call from the Cheese may have sparked something.  Maybe it is the only chance I have got to keep me from hitting the bottom hard.

I can see myself falling into despair.  I want to be brave and stoic - holding myself up so that I die in one last act of defiance against my captor and ruler, but that is crumbling now.  I guess it has been crumbling for a long time and now I see yet another manifestation of the rottenness within making its way to the surface.

I guess I have pretty much decided that this will end badly.  I need to gather the materials. I'll grab my hoodie and head over to Party City.