The Hand Of God

is something I remember reading about somewhere in the Old Testament area. The idea, horribly paraphrased from my none-to-accurate memory was that if you were going in a direction opposite to God's will, he would put his hand down upon you, presumably to stop you. It was implied that all manner of things would go wrong in your life as a result....the idea being you would, after seeing your life completely wrecked, return to God with a renewed understanding and appreciation for his omniscence, grace and love

If there is any truth in this, then God's hand and foot are upon me and not just upon me but repeatedly stomping and smacking and pounding. Only I am not having the predicated response; instead of feeling the desire to turn back to God, I find myself sinking deeper into depression and despair with each almighty blow. Every part of me feels heavy and bruised and my brain has shut down to the most basic functioning in order to buffer the agony. I can barely find my way to standing, much less back to Him, if He is still there. I am increasingly having my doubts as to that matter.

Random Madness

Some times...okay, most times...the killer thing is the not knowing why. If I had a reason that I'm sitting in the bathroom at work trying to get my nerves to stop sizzling from anxiety that would be reassuring. I could tell my self 'self, you are anxious because of x; once it passes, you will be fine.' But it could be y, not x or both or neither, or the subconscious trigger I'm completely unaware of that just went off. Not knowing the cause, and therefore not knowing how to prevent, infuriates and exhausts me.

Is This All There Is?

To life, I mean.

My therapist, as an exercise, has me writing down incidents that bring me happiness. A good idea, yet it has made me painfully aware of a) how few and far between those incidents are and b) just how hard I have to work for them.

Is this normal? Maybe everyone experiences life like this, an emotionally gruelling existence broken up by brief illuminations of happiness. If that is the case, how do people wring enough out of those moments to keep on? What is it that I am not getting?

'It could always be worse', a little voice inside my head is saying. 'You could be starving. Or homeless. Or both. Maybe you should quit your self-indulgent whimpering.'

And now I feel worse. For having a lot, comparatively speaking, and still feeling like this.

No easy answers today...

Coffee Spoons

I wonder sometimes, while shifting from one chemical cocktail to another, if I'm simply trying to medicate away a universal human condition.

Meaning: maybe everyone else feels an elevator dropping feeling at the sudden, unexpected glimpse of the endless days until they pass.

Meaning: maybe everyone else feels an electric shock of panic in the middle of an enjoyable moment...knowing that moment will inevitably pass and the grim reality of living will return.

Meaning: maybe everyone feels a quiet panic whenever the realization that truly happy moments in life are only obtained by muscular effort and the only lasting peace comes with death.

Or at the realization, in the middle of a calm, peaceful interlude, that that interlude is only momentary and inevitably life and it's grinding pace must start up again.

Are these collective human experiences that I somehow need to learn to suck up and swallow? Maybe I'm having such problems with finding a combination of drugs that suit because what I'm experiencing was never meant to be medicated away. I don't know.

Interesting

I miss the hospital.

I also regret that I didn't realize how much it was helpful to me during the time I was there. I think I knew it in little bits and pieces, but a lot of me was busy being discombobulated and generally freaked out.

I felt calmer there, very peaceful and green, like an Irish countryside (or what I imagine an Irish countryside would look like). Which makes sense considering that every single decision that I normally would have to make was being made for me.

Now that I'm out, I wonder if I'll ever get back to that Irish countryside green way of feeling.