Fear is more problematic than previously realized. Not only does it inspire running away, but also strange responses. And strange interpretations of events.
Fear doesn't respond nor perceive through love, is the problem. Fear responds hastily, expecting difficulty and pain and suspicion. Fear strikes out, self-defensively, pre-emptively...expecting harm. Fear is self-preserving, wretchedly.
And fear casts a pall of suspicion over all things. Fear is suspicious of self as well as others--incapable of discerning what's right or good, of either, as inherently not focused on the Lord.
Fear started at home, for me. Fear is what first inspired desperation to respond to others in any way which was most likely to please--as to avoid pain. Fear inspired that sort of duplicity and manipulation, initially as a child. And what started at home was continued in public.
I kept quiet to avoid ridicule or pain. Conforming to perceived expectations, out of fear of derision, harm, and to avoid mockery. I got to a point of mocking others, even...to be part of the "crowd" when possible, to avoid being the object of mockery.
And I also lashed out on my own--especially hurting the people nearest to me, out of anger, confusion, and pain. As a child, initially. Being abused, I became abusive.
And I don't remember how young I was, when I resolved never to have children--just so they'd never have to go through what I did, especially seeing how much I hurt my siblings, already. Better never to have children than put them through that. In my own strength, I'm not capable of refraining from being harmful.
And marriage was never even seriously considered an option--inconceivable. But the couple times it had been passingly mentioned as a possibility...taken seriously enough to prompt me to leave the abusive, destructive situations surrounding.
I never stopped hoping for companionship. I just stopped hoping to actually find any which wasn't inherently destructive. The thought on the whole deal, a couple months ago, was "no one in their right mind would have anything to do with me." And, that...in context of also appreciating that Jesus wants me, regardless.
He just happens to have more grace, love, and patience than anyone on earth. I mess up a lot. And if He counted all the times I've been straight up harsh with Him--out of fear, impatience, willfulness, and even (shamefully) testing the limits with Him to see at what point He'll lash out, in return...if He held all that against me, there would be no hope for me.
Problem is, I've still got it ingrained that at some point, harm will come and keep coming. So, in my warped mind, it's better to have it all out from the outset. So, I've pushed the Lord. He's let me. And He hasn't treated me harshly or turned His back on me, as part of it all. If He had, I would have been destroyed. But since He hasn't, I've still been devastated--just in a different way, learning to trust again, and to hope in Him.
Part of the problem has also been that when circumstances or relationships with other people haven't been actively harmful--I tend to take the liberty of harming myself or actively seeking out damage, just to maintain the "status quo." So I don't get used to not being in pain, you know? It's a lot more difficult going back to pain, having experienced a moment of peace. And it's a lot more difficult returning to isolation, having experienced a moment of fellowship (in itself, almost enough to prompt not to continue fellowship--just as not to go through the process of becoming accustomed again, over and over).
Used to be a joke to me, though, that I "excelled at bad decision-making--if it's a bad idea, then I'd do it."
I sought out destruction. I was self-destructive, accustomed to harm, and so all my relationships with other people were destructive--they supported me in my tendency to harm, enabled me at the very least. And even the ones which were mercifully interspersed to "pick up the pieces" every time I fell apart? Still, inherent destructive as not directing me to Christ but only enabling me to continue destroying myself. And pretty much all of my acquaintanceships centered around drinking alcohol or around that particular lifestyle. It was the go-to means of numbing the pain. Crippling.
I really considered myself "principled," too, all the while. That's one thing that's been most painful to come to terms with, in realizing the Lord has been aware of all my deeds, in process. I have grieved Him, so many times.
And it absolutely destroys me, to think on that. Especially now, in terms of present interactions. I know I'm accepted in Christ. I know I'm made acceptable in Him. Yet, I still do grieve His Spirit when I listen to and act out of fear rather than love, to the harm of others. And even to the detriment of myself.
All I know to do is throw myself on His mercy, again and again. And beg that He'll lead me in how to proceed. More time with the Lord again--seems to be what He's indicating. And all or any else only beside that. Balance.
And I keep wondering about when the first I'd come under suspicion of lying was, and accused of being manipulative. When I answered, yesterday, it was in terms of since having come to know Christ.
But it really started with my first romantic relationship. There were harsh consequences for suspicion, and eventually I stopped even trying to correct against misperceptions and just endured the pain--it came more quickly that way, but at least the buildup was briefer, less painful.
Being suspected of things which aren't true and told you're a liar, continually and for years, with harsh punishments for telling the truth and suspicion continued regardless...eventually does have a way of making even the truth seem suspicious. I don't trust myself, in other words. And it doesn't help that when I get anxious (which is still pretty much always--but especially when interacting with people I care about), I have a hard time processing and remembering details. Which, I just don't know what to do. I could go back, after the fact, continually...and correct myself when additional details come to mind. Or just wait for another moment, and hope to be able to remember, then.
Anyways. I don't know.
But as goes the aforementioned relationship--again, I was duplicitous and manipulative, per attempt to control my emotions and actions and speech sufficient to maintain an image of wellness enough to deflect ridicule, pain, and the like, under regular interrogation. Plus, part of the reason for maintaining certain relationships for as long as they lasted was with a false hope that time and continued care would be sufficient to break the cycle of abuse and neglect--a mentality which, itself, seems at least passively duplicitous. Loving for something other than who a person is?, expecting and wanting them to change?
I was wrong. Many times, on that front. I couldn't change them.
Interactions, mostly from time in New Orleans onward, were also manipulative--geared toward "helping people" in such a way as prompting others to do things which were "good for them" without them necessarily being aware of the process. Positive reinforcement, subconscious suggestion per guided questioning, and so on. It was pretty crude, all in all, but it was entirely manipulative.
Freelance psychology, basically. And I'd started pursuing it after making decision to study psychology, as a means of "helping people" who came to bars for all their emotional and mental and social needs--for those who were hurting and had no idea where else to turn and no will to do so, regardless. For those who were desperately in need of help.
I wanted to help them. I wanted to save them.
And I didn't really ever consider that it wasn't my place to do so. Nor did I consider that I was destroying my own life, all the while.
But it was those things, which have been manipulative and duplicitous, lies--as a means of image control, in a sense. So to maintain plausible deniability, as a matter of self-preservation. And entirely wrong-headed attempt to "help" people. On those three fronts, all.
And all of that was wrapped up with the occult practices, too. So, worse than just being superficial, overt. And I thought it was all "to good effect"--attempting to do things which were "good," helping people get what they wanted and helping them see things as they wanted to see them.
It's just so bad. And given the extent to which things used to go--so much had reached a point where it wasn't conscious, anymore, only perpetuated as part of normal/regular interaction--the Lord's been very merciful for having me be as dependent on Him as I am. It keeps me in check.
All my madness is just next to nothing, in the scheme of things, though. And realistically, everyone who is His apparently does depend upon Him to increasing degrees of conscious surrender, over course of life--until entering into a place of being consciously aware of and glorifying Him for the case of absolute dependence for all things.
Here and now, though, anxiety has a way of forcing me to return to a more conscious dependence upon and fellowship with the Lord. And anxiety gets bad enough in the presence of others (especially those I care about, which is especially the church) that He's also so merciful as to prevent others from being able to long-endure my presence (so far).
All of that forces me to return to the Lord.
Which is where I need to turn, anyways.
Nobody else can line all this mess out. And given the extent of the damage which need be worked through, it's really not possible for me to openly and continually interact with others who aren't very near to the Lord.
So, given the scope of all these things and considering the nature of what's already being endured by so many I care about, I'm still mostly convinced it would just be better for people not to be around me. There's already too much.
I forget things are as bad as they are, sometimes, just not being confronted with it all--I don't usually spend time with people and have been pretty much isolated for...a while. Years. Even before beginning to walk with Christ. And it's lonely, but the Lord has been very merciful--He gets me through and helps me rejoice, and He doesn't hold it against me when I go through bouts of difficulty, longing for fellowship.
It's just what it is, though. I haven't known what else to do, and the few times I've attempted relationships with people...have not gone well.
But I know the Lord can redeem and is wont to redeem even the worst.
I also know how wretched I am, to some extent--still being stricken, every moment He draws me nearer, to see how much worse I am than I'd had any idea. I know I don't deserve redemption. I don't deserve fellowship.
But for grace...which allows me to hope, still.
Because I know Jesus loves me, despite all my wickedness and wretched failings. And I know it's His will to heal me and keep me from walking in the old ways.
And I know He can do it.
There just hasn't been space to see it through, and still...I'd rather be alone than hurt people I care about. Because the far side of that is still the tendency to hurt myself, so to punish myself for hurting others.
Which, running is even that, in effect.
So, just a mess. A total mess.
And I could give character references, if that would help.
No idea what they'd say, but I don't know if it would even matter. Especially since most folks who have known me haven't known me for a while.
I've been running from pretty much everything for a long time.
Maybe a trip to McDowell is in order.
Or to Tazewell, at least, to see Theresa.
I just don't even know, anymore.
There's not quite anywhere where I belong.
But Jesus has become my home.
And someday...someday, all this will be over. And I will get to be with Him, and will be home, truly. In the meantime, I want to do whatever I can to bring a smile to His face, to please Him. Not as though I have to do anything, to accomplish that--He did everything that was required. And He's pleased with me, because of His own works.
But I want to do what He would have me do, too.
There's nothing quite like making Him smile to brighten even the darkest night.
It's a lot easier to think of things in terms of serving Him. It's much easier to look at all the mess which I am, emotionally and mentally, when considering who God is, and what His will is toward me...and toward others I love.
He's omnipotent.
And if He even briefly allows me a moment alongside others whom He loves, then I know He'll keep them, too. It's not chance. It's not something that "just happened."
It's just still too much to hope for more than a momentary interlude of fellowship, with as large as fear looms on the constant horizon. And with as broken as I am.
Movie last night, dude left because he was too broken. He went, did heroic deed and then came back. I don't have a heroic deed to accomplish that would assuage the parts which are most problematic, though.
But I do have a Savior who cares for me and who wants to heal me, increasingly, and to transform me to His likeness--a higher esteem than could be conceived of.
All this stuff, though--all these pains, fears, and self-concerns--why is it that they can stay so dormant when there's no interaction? How is it that, only now when attempting to interact with others...all this stuff really becomes apparent?
Cause, apparently, this is all a lot of the actual reason I avoid interaction with others. I think. Just as not to have this stuff dredged up--especially since I can't do anything in my own strength to undo the damage.
Yeah, though--it's all still there, apparently.
Lord, help.
I got nothing.
Nothing but sin. And the more I look, the worse it gets.
Help.
So much for "not thinking." That lasted for all of...half a day, maybe?
Was pretty nice, though, while it lasted.
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