So Many Things...

Today was difficult.

The culmination of a week and a half's worth of slipping out of joint, but still difficult. I didn't know when or how things would go, but knew of some likely developments--I knew the relative probability of a couple of potential paths things could have taken. And this was one, even if I didn't have any idea of exactly how things would play out. I just knew there was a decent possibility that I would start to fall out of step with the absolute base necessities of my survival, as a matter of course, if those I was around the most weren't in some fashion keeping step alongside my path to progress.

Because I'm really not strong in this. Like what-with Romans and Corinthians, I'm one of the ones that "don't eat meat." (Only I DO eat meat--just not a lot of other stuff.) There are a LOT of things which are stumbling blocks to me. A LOT.

And being around some of the things which are most insidious, nearly day-in, day-out, for the past month? Yeah. That hasn't gone very well.

For instance--I can't do television.

Period.

Just being in the same room as a TV that's turned on completely alters my ability to focus and process. It derails me in such a way that I end up shutting down. Shutting down is fairly quickly followed by a nervous breakdown, as it goes.

Within a couple weeks, at least.

Unless I get away from the influence.

Most folks--tv is no problem, whatsoever. Didn't bother me in the past, even.

But, yeah--no. Increasingly severe mood swings, over course of the past week. Culminating in difficulty sleeping, compounded by a resulting 24-hour migraine which fairly necessitated simultaneous bed-rest (read: 24-hours in bed), then awakening to physically expressed symptoms of panic, today.

Yeah.

I knew it was a possibility that things might take this course. But, that's why things have been so touch-and-go, or tentative. The idea of living with them has and has always had merit. I love them. They love me. I love being with them, and having opportunity to interact with my nieces at all hours.

But complications arise when considering the mental state I'd been in at the beginning of the year, the mental state I'd been in prior to that (and for the years preceding), and the fine line it's been to maintain deliverance from these things.

As to that last--don't get me wrong, it's not that God makes it difficult to be delivered. Not at all.

My nature makes it difficult--I have to struggle against the compulsion to wallow in misery. I have to offer a sacrifice of praise, even on the days when I feel like lashing out at everything around me...and not for just a minute or two, no--until the sense of oppressive irritability is obliterated.

So, I'm my own worst enemy on that count. How much more difficult, then, when it's ALREADY a struggle for me to overcome my own tendencies, and then to be daily confronted with things that are absolutely toxic to my ability to function?

If there were any way for me to pray it away, it would've already been gone. But...seems that some things are meant to be thorns in our side. To keep us closer to God, from what Paul said.

Best I can figure, anyway.

I all but had a nice bit of a meltdown today, though. Same as Tuesday, although I got some time away that evening--made the difference.

Living full-time in that mentality would be a quick death, though. I have things I need to do, so it's not an option. Seeing the end result as what it is and knowing there are things I have to do...means I had to get out. Not that I won't still be visiting, yeah. With regularity.

But I cannot be drawn in, to the point that I'm utterly consumed.

We all have our own paths to take, even as they'll each necessarily be narrow, to salvation. The circumstances which make me completely break down, someone else would likely consider absolute paradise in which to thrive.

I know that. I know it's not the circumstances, really, so much as it is how they affect me, personally. Or, rather, what they bring forth in me.

Without there being a united front battling against those things which seek to overwhelm, my only recourse is to exist somewhat apart.

Not for a lack of love, so much as for an abundance of one. I refuse to let myself be cut out as a part of the good, so easily. No. I refuse to let myself get to the point where I'm no longer capable of being a point of light.

To do so would be to the detriment of myself and anyone to meet or encounter me. Which, if it were for my sake alone--what would it ultimately matter? But it's not. 

I'm finally getting to the point where I really don't give a hoot whether folks think it's completely insane. Faith is personal.

By the grace of God, I'm alive, having died multiple times. And I don't take that lightly. Rather, I finally take it seriously.

I can't hand anyone else faith, though, or belief. No matter how much I wish I could. It's just too personal.

I can remember the moment I first realized I believed, though--when I first measured faith. No idea how old I was, but young. Pre-teen. Pre-adolescent, most likely. In a church, alone. Just thinking about things.

Wondering about the existence of God. And I got bold for a second. And just asked Him, "God, if you're real, move..."something in front of me...something which wouldn't otherwise move.

Instead, a thought came to me:

"...if I'm[God's] not real, who are you asking?"

So, rather than seeing anything move, I just got this really strong conviction which humbled me utterly--the sense in which the thought struck was really what was so much more convincing than the thought, itself. I think. Or maybe in conjunction.

It completely freaked me out, either way.

...

Maybe I can sleep now. I'm going to try.

Missing the munchkins, but gotta be what it is.