Pessimistimo.

I'm a reasonably positive person. Or, I used to be. Not quite sure anymore. I mean, happiness isn't really a staple item in my emotional inventory. But the other day I had a thought...

I don't remember what I was doing, or thinking for that matter, but whatever it was sparked a devastating realization: I think I'm a pessimist.

I've come to a point where even if good things are happening, I don't believe they'll last for long. I am constantly, actively, waiting for the next heavy blow. It's as if I've come to a point where I won't even allow myself to become happy for fear of something dreadful coming right behind it and causing my world to come tumbling down all over again. I began to think about whether or not this has always been the underlying case and, if it hasn't been, why it is now.

The conclusion to which I came can best be described as the feeling you get when you wash NyQuil down with potent coffee. (Long story. Just don't ever do it.) The juxtaposition felt within your gut is nauseating. So keep that in mind when I say that in some ways my hope has diminished greatly, and in other ways it hasn't. This comes mainly from the fact that I'm speaking of two different types of hope.

I've stopped believing that good things are going to happen in the near future because 1) they've been bad for so long, and 2) why believe that when I don't know it to be true anyway? But then I notice the words "good" and "bad." What I see as being good currently may not be in the big picture, and what I see as being bad could be good in the big picture. It is for this reason that my constant Hope remains. I have hope in the fact that Christ loves me to the nth degree, doesn't enjoy my pain, wants and knows what is best for me, and will lovingly carry me through whatever comes between now and Heaven. The thing is, most people would gather that life isn't much fun when you're slumming around in the emotional middle ground, but to be honest, I find joy more often than not. There are always hundreds upon thousands of things to be thankful for no matter how dismal things get. You may just have to work a little harder to find them.

In fact, sometimes I wonder whether or not there's even anything technically wrong with what I've decided to temporarily call "being levelheaded." I mean, obviously, imagining that you're going to die in a car crash just because you had a wonderful day is an issue. But what about simply waiting to see what happens without being incredibly hopeful so as to not have your spirits crushed when things don't go as planned? I imagine some would say that my current method of dealing is a one of self-preservation and I would have to agree with them. We are conditioned to avoid actions and situations that have led to pain in the past. So, at this point, why would I be inclined to be hopeful when few positive things have come of it before?

Yesterday, my pastor spoke of Abraham and his history of events as they pertained to the cultivating of his faith. Something that struck me throughout was how long it took for Abraham to trust. How long it took for his faith to outweigh his feelings.* It wasn't the fact that I thought he should've gotten a grip sooner than later. It was the fact that the dude was old. And that I'm a baby. It took literal years for his story to unfold (as is the case with everyone, but I hope you get what I mean). I don't mean that to be an excuse to learn lessons more slowly because I've "got all the time in the world." We have been given the stories of those who have gone before us partially, I'm sure, to aid us in wrapping our thick skulls around various concepts perhaps more quickly than they did. What I'm saying is that maybe all this time, all these wearisome chapters, have been cultivating my faith and I've been blind to it. Duh.

That's not to say that I'm going to be all smiles now. The fact remains that the future is still unknown, and I will probably continue in my method of self-preservation until something happens to change the need for it. However, maybe the pain will be that much more bearable knowing that He sees all and is never idle, always holding our fragile hearts in His all-encompassing hands.

Now the battle will be to find the tight little space between thinking that I'm going to win the lottery next month without even buying a ticket (overly positive) and thinking that I'm going get hit by a monster truck while crossing the street on my way back from an LA Phil performance (overly negative). Me and my sick little mind...

Prayers, yeah? S'il vous plaît et merci.


*I emphasize "outweigh" here because I think it's exactly that and not the elimination of human feelings.


Peace & pancakes.



-mm-

Titles are ominous.

Well, well, well.

It's been awhile.

I suppose a small explanation of my absence is in order, but the truth is, I don't have one.

Anything I could come up with to say would either be unnecessary, excusatory, or both. What I will do is offer an explanation as to what has brought me back here.

In short, I began following a girl on Twitter who leads a wonderful project which, after poring over for hours with tears in my eyes and warmth in my heart, caused me to once again have the desire to speak up just a lil' bit. ;)

I've always been a strong believer in talking about the hard things, which is ironic seeing as how I rarely ever do it. The whole "I'll-do-it-if-you-will" mentality is nothing more than a hindrance if no one has the courage to stick their nose out there. So, here's my nose. Again.

If you're new here, I would suggest that you read the very first post written here. Because it was written in 2011 (apparently a rough time?), you may find it a bit rough around the edges. I like to think that I'm more gentle these days, but perhaps I'm not. :) In fact, I thought long and hard about erasing everything on here in some absurd attempt to......I don't know, polish my image?! I decided that not only would that be an issue of integrity, but it's also the very antithesis of what I'm trying to do here. Going back and reading those posts has allowed me to see change in myself, and/or lack thereof. To be honest, I still agree with most of the things I wrote back then. Not sure what that says about me, but we'll just have to explore that together, won't we. :)



Looking forward to sharing with and (especially) hearing from you.



~mm~


P.S. Fair warning, I use "which" a lot. I really am trying to stop.

Sometimes I'm tempted to think that my life is a big joke. A big taunt, or a massive middle finger. I go back and forth between realizing that I'm surrounded by brilliantly kind people and circumstances that are completely derived from grace, and then wondering endlessly if my life is ever, for any longer than a day at a time, going to consist of good, happy, positive things. Whining, essentially. But not the typical sort that goes, "Wahh wahh, why is this happening to me?! I don't deserve this, and I sure as hell didn't ask to be born!" It is slightly more complicated than that. It's more of a, "Is this forever? I mean, I'm trying to take what I can away from all of this, but I'm tired of it. What do I have to grasp for this to go away? Is it going to get easier, or must I prepare for a life of cryptic misery and pondering things that may not be mine to dwell on?" kind of thing. I suppose the closest thing to compare that version to would be "worry." Honestly, I would simply just like to flip a few pages ahead. Skim a little bit. That's one of the pains about life; you can't skim.

What I'm realizing, though, is that we're not meant to. Every day serves some purpose, as does everything that happens, even (and sometimes especially) the things that we don't like, or even hate. We're not meant to understand every little thing right as it's happening. I can't express how much I want to say, "Okay, God, that was bloody miserable, but I made it through. So, if you please, would you tell me what about that situation benefitted anyone? 'Cause I'd really like to know. Now. Please."

Life just sucks sometimes. And it can suck for looooong-ass periods of time, too. But, there's something in it. Last Sunday, we were outlining the book of Genesis and we touched briefly on the story of Joseph and how his brothers hated him and so on. I got to thinking about how long Joseph had to wait until God fulfilled the promise that He made clear to Joseph in a dream of his. I don't think I'd have been able to make it without throwing little hissy fits all over the place. And Job, even. His story is a difficult one to wrap our heads around, and quite frankly, I think that many Christians just pretend to understand the gravity of it. I mean, obviously there are people who are much closer to empathizing with him than others, but.....yeah.

Something that pisses me off is when people try to deny or ignore the power of an "unfortunate" situation, or series of situations by trying to stay as frothily lofty as possible. I liken it to stuffing your mouth full of that fake whipped cream non-frosting frosting. While I in no way believe that one should wallow in the feces of life, I do feel very strongly that putting off feelings of anger/doubt/frustration/etc. as soon as they come and donning an attitude of "nothing can get me down" may have a counter-productive effect. In fact, I know it can. Happily licking that frosting off of your fingers only lasts so long before your tummy begins to rumble....

I have no real goal for this post. In fact, I'm not even sure what brought it on, but no matter. I've finally written something that I haven't yet considered deleting.



Welcome to my mind.

Don't look at me; I'm growing.

Sometimes growing just sucks. You know where you are, and you know where you need to be, but there's all that junk in the middle that you aren't allowed to fast-forward through. Actually, it isn't junk at all; not by any means. It is in fact what allows you to become what you will later be, making it the most spectacular thing there is about growth. So then why is it so agonizing for some? Embarrassing, even? Obviously, I can't speak for everyone (though I'd be much more comfortable doing so), but I've had a lot of time to think and evaluate over break, which I am almost (at times) tempted to classify as being dangerous because some things are brought to light that I'd rather not see...

An example of this would be my perfectionistic mentality. Now, any who know me, if only inch deep will have caught some glimpse of this. There is no way to keep it hidden, and so I no longer try. This trait manifests itself in countless ways, but I am convinced that I am only aware of maybe five out of 398,573 of them. Anyway, I discovered that one of the areas in which this problem presents itself would be that of the growth process. Not necessarily one in particular either. Simply this (as stated before): I am aware of where I am, and also (somewhat) of where I want or need to be, but I am not humble enough to outwardly do the work that is required of me to get there. "So, you're lazy," you may say. Well, that's the conclusion I came to in the beginning before I realized that...that isn't it at all. Nothing could be worse than laziness...right?

I don't like to be seen or observed when I'm "growing."

I don't like people listening to me practice.

I don't like people watching me write.

I don't like people seeing me read my bible.

Not only do I dislike these things actually happening, but even the possibility of one of these events taking place is--get this--enough to keep me from doing them.

I'm insane. I. am. INSANE.

Granted, I have grown (ha!) in this struggle with vulnerability over time, but the fact that it was even there to begin with is shameful and bothersome. (And here we are again.)

It really is the silliest of problems. The ideal setup would be this: "Wow, she used to suck dirt. And now, for some mysterious and miraculous reason, she's fantastic. Gee, wonder what went on in between stages?" To which I would smirk in a coy way and keep my secrets to myself. Or maybe I would reveal them. I'm not sure.

Actually, yes. I would. I would say, "Well you know, I used to struggle in such and such a way, and I worked through it by doing this that and the other, and so can you, if that sort of thing works for you." I can just hear myself...

I shared this in an attempt to be transparent with a personal issue that bugs the living shiz shit out of me. (If you flinch at "four-letter words," then you probably shouldn't be here.) It is my goal to share more of these deep, dark, twisted issues in the hopes that maybe someone else is going through something similar and/or somehow understands.

If nothing else, at least you'll know more about who I am.

the stew of a stoic

for two decades, he has been stewing,

in a rather large pot,

ice hot tears soup.

the pot has been steadily getting more and more full.

in fact, it's to the point now where if he shifts the pot too much,

the contents will slosh and slightly spill

from underneath the lids of his eyes

burning, causing redness and pain.

he almost spilled the entire pot today.

many people would have been in the hospital

pitifully nursing third-degree burns.

it's a good thing his Father caught it just in time...

the contents have been rocking for a while now,

sometimes reaching to the brim on either side.

steam rises constantly.

sometimes a mist, practically invisible;

sometimes dense, leaving its beads of evidence

on the skin of those foolish brave enough to come close,

but always present.

sometimes people attempt getting close enough to peek inside,

or to catch a whiff,

to see what could possibly be going on in there...

some, he permits.

others, however, he most certainly does not.

what he finds most amusing, though, is when those meddlers

(who caused inspiration for the stew in the first place)

remove the lid without permission or warning

and stir aggressively with a filthy spoon.

or toss in handfuls upon handfuls of rancid ingredients.

or, his personal favorite,

when they successfully (so they think)

lift and close the lid with the utmost care,

and then knock the knob to the burner ever so slightly,

just enough to crank up the heat.

he lets them think that they're helping--

that they are contributing something special.

and they are, really...

it just isn't what they think.

they are only adding volume and density.

they are only causing the mixture to brew faster.

and when it is finished,

they will be the first to taste.

it will be too hot,

and they will be brutally burned.

it will be rancid,

and they will wish to spit it out.

it will be full of the pain and suffering

salt, pepper and vinegar

that has simmered for so very, very long,

and they will gag,

trying with everything not to swallow,

but they will be made to consume it all.

and then...

it will be gone,

and she

he shall stew no more.

Happy New Year.

I haven't been able to piece any words together. My mind is reeling with memories, both sweet and excruciatingly painful. I'm thinking about the whole concept of a "new year" and why people get so hyped. Everyone is constantly looking for hope. Everyone is always looking for a fresh start, a second chance. When a new year approaches, slates are wiped clean, or so it is hoped. "That person has to forgive me now; it's a new year!" or, "I'm going to get myself together by making a militant list of things I must do to become the person that I need to be in order to be happy." What sort of language is this?

I just can't stop thinking. I've said "Happy New Year" to only a handful of people tonight, and then I stopped. Not because I'm anti or emo (what's the new hip term that replaced "emo"?), it's just... Well, I don't really know why. I mean, I am excited for a new year. This past year may very well have been one of, if not the darkest year I've lived through. I'm so glad to be rid of it and on to something fresh and new. But see? What does that mean, "fresh" and "new"? Every single day is such. So why, then, do I say this now, and not at the start of every day? Perhaps it's because I think, "Hey, the people who have been acting crazy will probably take a break. I mean, they can't justify their evil around the start of the new year, can they?" Well, they did last year...so why couldn't they do it again? There is an automatic false sense of security that we thrive on during this time. Where it comes from? Well, I have an idea, but then again, I think we all do.

It may be inferred that I am encouraging melancholy or static behavior at the start of a new year. I assure you, I am not. I am simply bringing to light some things that I have never before found interesting or worth spending more than five minutes thinking about until this night. Of course, a lot of things have been on my mind lately, so I'm not surprised...

I don't know. Anything can happen at any given moment. I only wish we were this positive and optimistic more often than not. Some of us are, yes, but not necessarily for the same reasons as we are now. Or some try to speak their way to optimism with inflated words of solace when deep down they are ailing with every breath. If there's one thing I learned during 2011, it is that there is no time for poppycock. No time for fake, lofty, philosophical shite. If everyone would just get down to the nitty gritty.... Not that it's easy to do, but hey. Life isn't sugar. Hell, half the time, it isn't even sugar-coated. But should it have to be?

Since I have no real direction in which I'm trying to go, I suppose I should find some way to stop here. I learned a lot this year. A lot about people, actions, motives. Certain things I didn't know I learned until tonight, and some I won't be aware of until years from now, maybe. But my point, I guess, is that God is an amazing Father. I can't handle to think about how much He's looked after me, consoled me, held me in His arms while I threw fits, sent other people to hug my very soul with seemingly meaningless displays of kindness and compassion... I am just. gobsmacked. when I think of it all. Real talk, if He had not been with me, I might be anywhere. Dead, even. And maybe others, too, by my own hand. It sounds crazy and morbid to think that way, but it is when those earth-shattering realizations come to smack you like an oar in the face that you understand just that much more of who God is. It is my hope, among others, for this year that I catch even more glimpses of who my Father is through His word, and through the people that he places in my life, saved or not. I some ways I am frightened of what may happen this year, and in other ways, I am very excited. But in all ways, I am curious. Curious as to where my God will take me, and how much of Himself He'll reveal to me and in what ways as my hand rests in His.

May you all catch a glimpse or two of our Lord this year.

So, let me get this straight.

Everyone else is permitted to traipse around dropping their opinions, no matter how dimwitted, and yet I'm the one walking on eggshells. Not to say that I am the source of all knowledge past , present, and future, but surely I am able to speak? Well, yes. Of course I am. But not without nosy, no-lifes who thrive on hunting those who they can pull down to their level with their entrapments of getting you to second-guess your own intelligence that they only wish they possessed, all the while reeling in their own maniacal sense of false security. Deep, deep down, they know. They know how weak-minded they are. They know how confused they have become over time, and they only nurture the wound with more poison. The poison of the tongue that flies quickly with no thought (or certainly not enough), wildly spreading words of witless naivety like wildfire. They can no longer stop themselves, and anyone who's brave enough to tackle that battle gets sent home with the guilt of possibly hurting another one's feelings. I call bullshit. If so many people have tried to force-feed you spoonfuls of the "think-before-you-speak" elixir, then don't you think you ought to take it? Yes, it's nasty. But are not the words that spill out of your mouth constantly? Or do you sugarcoat your own vomit?