I have always been a strange mix of hope and despair. I have had heavy doubts and been so sure of truths that turned out to be lies. I can remember being a child and sitting up in my loft bed at night with my bible searching for words that would be a soothing balm to what was painful. I highlighted and underlined words that brought me comfort even though I had no ideas about the bible as a whole or of cultural context or literary genres or of theology in general. Somehow – somehow I just knew that the Words were the answers – that God was my answer.

My confidence in God has never really been my problem, especially when faced with my other problem: my confidence in myself. It is a truth that is desperately sad yet obviously true that the feelings I describe about myself are not rare expectations, but rather are the cold hard truth for so many, many people.

For too long time I felt that I was worth so little. I believed that God loved me, but only in the sense that He had pity on me as one of the pitiful worms of this world. I thought that His love for me was that He tolerated me. I thought He felt sorry for my pitiful self, sent Jesus to die for me, and was thus able to stand to be near me.

That’s what I once thought the love of God amounted to.

As I moved on from adolescence, I continued to be thankful for that tolerance of God known to me as love. For surely, what more could I ever hope for? How desperately lucky for me that God took pity on me and rescued me from the fires of hell. How blessed that I should receive words of comfort from the bible that He left for me. How unspeakably wonderful that He should have so much pity for me that He would go as far as to provide me with true friends when as a child I longed for little else more and rarely if ever found it.

As a young adult, I was desperately thankful for all that God had done for me; and yet, I was still in so many ways a child consumed with fear. I had yet to begin to learn the real meaning of perfect love casting out fear. While on a solo road trip and listening to sermons, worship music, and reflecting in quietness, God began to change my perspective on His love for and view of me. The shifts were subtle but the application to my life was radical:

I once heard that I was worth nothing, and that God in His great Holiness decided to take pity on me;

I now know that I am a beloved child of God’s, created in His image by His beautifully creative hand.

I once heard that my sin defined and defiled me, and that because of it I could never hold my head up high;

I now know that though sin once soiled my life, Christ’s blood washed the stain away leaving the beautiful creature he created me to be. I can hold me head up high because He is the lifter of my head.

Dead Sea Sunrise: A Picture taken by my sweet friend April

My Heart Does Ponder

Who am I that God would put such assurance in me from such a young age? Why has He protected me in ways that He has seemingly not protected others? Why, why? Who am I?

Who am I that God would place me in this country at this time with so much comfort and luxury and opportunity? Why have I been given the chance to live out my dreams when so many die in garbage dumps or forever enslaved to sex, power, and greed? Why, why? Who am I?

I consider these questions and they bring me crashing to my knees. Who am I, God? Why have you blessed me so? For surely I do not deserve it!

It breaks my heart and leaves me quiet and sets in me a quiet determination to not let these blessings be in vain.

In answer to my original question, “Does God Love Me?” The answer is yes. Yes, He does. He does not just tolerate me, and He does not just tolerate you. He loves us deeply, fiercely, abundantly, ridiculousness, incredibly, and wholeheartedly.

The question is, what are we going to do about it?

To read more about my heart for this blog, please check out my first post Beautifully, Tragically, Blessedly Different.

Let’s start with elementary school… I didn’t have very many friends, and the ones I did have were kind of the “on and off” kind. There was one guy that I was really close to. We were “going out” for most years, and when we weren’t we were best friends. We eventually drifted apart, but I always tried to stay in touch. I really cared about him a lot. He killed himself over two years ago because he believed he was all alone and no one was there for him. But I always was.

There was another friend I had all through elementary school. Well, until he moved away in fifth grade. He had Batten’s disease, which slowly wore down his nervous system. First he became blind, then he had trouble walking and finally he could barely talk anymore. It killed him two years ago. There still isn’t a cure for the disease.

I grew up with three older sisters that would always gang up against me, so I hated weekends when I had to spend all my time with my family. I developed a problem of stealing. First, it was stuff from my sisters and occasionally money from my mom. Eventually it grew to stealing from other people and sometimes stores. I was really envious of my this girl’s gameboy color, and I knew my parents would never get me one (They were really traditional and anti-tech kid games). So on my birthday I decided I would steal it and tell my parents she gave it to me. Of course, she told the teacher it was missing and they found it in my backpack. I got a terrible whooping on my birthday.

I actually got a goat for that birthday. Which was pretty cool except she died like a year later. The rabbit I got for Christmas also died. My cats were my favorite, although I rarely had the same one for over a year. They either got run over or some bigger animal killed them.

I had a friend in elementary school that was super good at dodge-ball  He used to ride my bus and we were in band together. He had flaming red hair and a bad temper. Over two years ago, he shot a woman that was threatening his mother at point blank range with a shotgun. Now he’s in prison and I haven’t seen him since.

When I was in sixth grade, I had a best friend that I did everything with. We hung out at each other’s houses and she invited me to my first sleepover. We had all these plans for middle school, but when 7th grade finally rolled around, she ditched me for her popular new friends and I was alone for awhile. I became really good friends with this guy from band. We bonded over Beatles and energy drinks. We dated on and off all through middle school, and even after we weren’t friends anymore I still had him up on a pedestal. I lied to him a lot. Looking back, I have no idea why I did. I guess I just wanted to seem really interesting. But anyway, that didn’t last past middle school.

In eight grade, another one of my good friends was diagnosed with bi-polar disease and her parents moved to  Boston so she could go to a special school there. I never saw her again. I was very lonely that year, and made several cuts down  my wrists. After a particularly confusing breakup with this guy I fancied, I even carved his initials into my leg. That definitely makes the list on the stupidest things I’ve ever done.

There was this girl that kept hanging around me wanting to be friends. However she stole my iPod and insisted I gave it to her when I wanted it back. She also was pretty obsessed with the guy I was seeing on and off from band even though he wasn’t interested in her. She was a compulsive liar and had horrible hygiene. She’s still the same actually, and is determined that we’re “great friends” even though anything she ever did for me had a bigger gain for her.

By the end of the year I had dyed my hair black and spent most of my time alone. I slept a lot and didn’t have an interest in doing anything. My parents were worried and we went to a doctor. First he said my body wasn’t absorbing Vitamin B12 (the “energy” vitamin”) and so I had to go get doses of it in shots for a few weeks. That didn’t make much of a change so finally he just said I was “mildly depressed” and I saw a therapist for a awhile.

I was in marching band my freshman year. My dad hated it because I was never home. I loved it because I was never home. I grew up on a dairy farm, and yeah, I like animals as much as any other person. But I hated cows, I didn’t enjoy riding horses all the time, I hated all the work, I hated waking up early, I hated having to do chores every single night. So my dad and I didn’t get along at all during this time. My sister was a senior and picked me up from band practice every day. She was pretty fed up with me too because I kept wearing her clothes without asking.

The morning of my very first band competition, I dislocated my knee. So there I was at attention on the sidelines for the next two competitions and every practice in between. We made 6th in state that year, which was pretty good I guess. Then marching band season was over and concert band began. During Spring Break I shattered both bones in my arm and had surgery to put it together with three metal plates. So I couldn’t play in the big Spring concert. My arm still hurts when I try to lift stuff, or if someone hits it.

At the end of my freshman year, my third sister graduated high school, leaving me alone at home. I had to quit band because my dad needed me to help on the farm. Right around this time my best friend at the time moved to New Mexico, where he still lives I think.

The summer between freshman and sophomore year I met a guy that would become my best friend. He had a girlfriend at the time, although he wouldn’t tell me that for several months. After they broke up we began a kind of relationship without the relationship part. He was the one that “stole” my virginity during sophomore year, though I gave it up pretty willingly. I would have given up anything for him, and yet for some reason he never wanted to make us official. Finally, I got fed up waiting for him and began dating another guy partly out of spite and partly because I was tired of being alone for so long. This guy ended up falling in love with me. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t love him back the way he deserved. He would have been the best thing to ever happen to me, and I broke his heart because I knew I couldn’t be who he wanted me to be. I was too busy trying to get with the guy that didn’t care so much. He actually messed up a lot of things in my life. That was a huge mess that definitely made the list of regrets.

By the end of my sophomore year, I was alone again with a mess of half-burned bridges behind me. I had many enemies and few friends that I wasn’t even sure if they were real. I had horrible acne and didn’t do much with my hair. I talked way too much and too loud; so people generally avoided me. My junior year I began to sleep with douche guys that had girlfriends because they were already committed and therefore wouldn’t get attached to me. Then a guy went through my computer and stole and posted a photo of me in lingerie and a video of me “pleasuring” a guy on a blog that eventually most of the school saw. That ruined any chances of any guy there ever thinking of me as girlfriend material. Until graduation (and even a few times after) all I ever got was “send me a pic” and “wanna do stuff”. There even was a rumor going around that I was having sex with goats (WHAT?? not true!).

I had a fear of the dark. I was only afraid when I was alone though, if someone else or even a dog was there, I was okay. This became a big issue when my dad would send me out at night to find some cow that didn’t come home. I had a friend I would call and he would just talk to me and I didn’t feel alone or scared anymore. A few years later we started sleeping together and now it’s weird because I’m not sure if we’re really still friends or if we’re just acting like it for old times sake. Or maybe he just pities me.

The beginning of my junior year was when my old friend committed suicide and the friend with Batten’s disease died and my other friend went to prison. It actually all happened within two months. I was still seeing my therapist on and off but I refused to talk about any of that. I think that made her kind of mad. By this point we were just talking about my bad relationship with my dad most of the time. I remember she was said it definitely wasn’t okay that he would turn off the water if my shower lasted more that 5 minutes, even if I still had shampoo in my hair. He used to go through my computer too, because he didn’t trust me. But I never gave him any reason too, so I guess I didn’t make it very easy for him.

I also had three wrecks within one year, which makes it sound like I’m a bad driver but really I was just an idiot. The first time I had just pulled out of the school’s parking lot and was talking on the phone with the person behind me and actually turned around to make a face at them and didn’t notice the person in front of me had stopped. I had my foot on the clutch and was barely rolling but managed to hit her and dent her car. It did little damage to mine, but definitely got people started on the “Anna can’t drive” comments… The second one was early one morning when I was going to pick up the Amish guy that shoes our horses. I was digging around in my bag for some change so I could buy a coke at the next gas station. I look up and the mailbox was right there, I serve across the road and over-corrected  hitting a culvert and falling into the ditch. I rolled three times and finally landed upside down where I hung in the seat belt until a guy passing called my dad and he came to cut me down. Thankfully I only got a few staples in a cut in my arm and bruises, but my car was totaled.  The third wreck happened the beginning of my senior year when I had a really bad morning (will explain that later) and ran a stop sign without even looking. A guy happened to right there and hit me. I bought a new car that weekend and have been wreck free for a year and 7 months!

I had started birth control during my junior year, and started having two periods a month. That’s totally not normal and pretty annoying so I went to my doctor and she said that was pretty normal for some people, they were just going to do some test and switch me to a different BC. One of the tests was fertility which I didn’t range in the normal numbers on. They said that was a sign that I could be infertile and never be able to have children and they wanted to do another test to make sure. I didn’t do it. I didn’t want to know for sure. Yeah, I know that it’s possible but it’s a possibility for all women, right? Anyway learning that was the bad morning I mentioned earlier.

It was during my senior year that my dad and I finally started liking each other, so that was pretty nice. Although after I turned 18 I stayed out late a lot of nights after I did my chores and messed around with different guys, which he definitely wouldn’t be proud of if he knew. In one of our fights I even said he was a terrible father, which I did later apologize for. It’s not his fault I turned out this way. We started bonding over our interest in history and in fixing up my car.

When I moved out and started going to college, I thought for sure this was the new start I needed. That here in a mess of strangers was someone that could love me and that hopefully I could love back. Within the first week I began talking to this guy that got serious was too fast for my liking. He ended up getting on my nerves super bad, so I got out of that fast.

One night a group of friends and I went to a donut shop. I drove and parked my car at a parking lot at the end of campus. We were walking back to our dorm and this really cute guy was walking pretty close to our group. Right as we were walking under the clock tower, I turn around stick my bag of donut holes in his face and go “Want a donut??”

“Heck yeah, I do!” was his response and that’s how I met Connor. He ended up coming to our dorm and hanging out in our lobby and asked for my number before he left. We were together almost four months, and he definitely made me happy during it. If I could have fallen in love, I think it could have been with him. Wouldn’t have amounted to much though, considering that turned into a pile of crap after he got tired of me. But anyway.

Right now I’m sitting alone in my dorm room like a loser. My roommate is sleeping at her boyfriend’s and I don’t really have any other friends I could hang out with right now. The guy I’ve started to like is out on a date with some other girl that’s definitely better than me. The boytoy from downstairs hasn’t come by in a while, so I guess that’s pretty much come to a standstill. Two more weeks left in the semester and I’m still as lonely as I have been for the past 5 years.

I just want to be happy.

I’ve hit that tree, and I just woke up yesterday early morning, of course all of this is make believe on the whole crashing, I am still in one piece and safe… to an extend .

Since I have lost BH, life was pretty fine and I was okay with the conclusion he was out of my life and all I had to lurk on was on Facebook to know if he was alive for the day. Since he un-follow me on twitter and deleted me off Tumblr, Facebook is all I have and I’m content with that, I only liked one of his post and it was to help out an animal who needed a home ASAP.  I was fine, I was happy,  till just a few minutes when he texted me saying he hopes me and “the” family are doing well. Maybe I am over thinking it, but I do not like how he said, the family, as if he could still think, that there’s a chance I will accept him back into my life. He was the one who wanted to act like a big shot, be selfish and so self absorbed. and not to even think about me or anyone else in the matter, he was on the high road. A good job, friends, and a new boy interested in him what else could he ask for? What he never understood that everything that goes up most come down, Yes, he still has the “good” friends part and I say that in quotation, because he always talked bad about them with me and saying when I get back, he will get new ones, so I don’t really believe his friends have the best interest in him, not like I did. He no longer has the good job, he fucked that one up with his lies & the boy interested in him, I haven’t seen him get tag on a picture or status for a few weeks now, so he must of done something wrong and they separated ways, either way, I was happy for him at least the boy part, he needed someone better in life but I guess the other guy found out quicker he was better off, alone. I don’t understand why he would text me, knowing that him and I are not going to be friends, he knows when I cut heads, I meant it and I don’t go back. I just hope, I don’t get an email from him late at night from him expressing how much everything met to him, I can’t deal with that.

On another up setting news.

Remember the guy I was falling for? Yes, that high road I was on, I came down crashing on Saturday night…. Thou I was not shocked, I had expected it, I just didn’t want to come with the acceptance of it. He is a great guy, he knows that and I know that, we get along amazingly and the communication was energetic. I was all for it, the minute my lips shyly kiss his, I was willing to stay with him, accept the flaws that I wont see him daily because of his schedule, I wanted to fight, I wanted him to be mine and I would be his,  but something in the back of my head kept reappearing, something he told me the first week we met, “I don’t want to hurt you or me”. I didn’t care for it,  but he does, and he feels he is not emotionally stable to handle a relationship. Thou I never ask much of him because I really do understand his situation, I know where he is coming from and I just have a feeling he thinks, I might be a needy person once we start calling our relationship something more than friends.  I cave in, I cave into his request we no longer see each other something more than just friends, that we should just cool it. He understand our friendship won’t be the same, but he is willing to take the risk, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.  I told him, I stop caring if I got hurt or if he got hurt just because I wanted to act out on my feelings, to kiss him, hold him and just have fun together, love doesn’t have a perfect moment and nothing is perfect when planned. He couldn’t see my side, so I cave, I cave to not liking him and to let go of all feelings.

All of that happen Saturday night, Friday night he sent me an email saying everything between us was okay and I shouldn’t worry.

Sunday night, I got hammered and I still don’t understand all this confusion. If everything was okay Friday night, what happen Saturday morning till I chatted with him at night.

Not everything goes according to plans, thoughts and ideas.

I wanted this to be my first South American relationship, but I can’t even have that, maybe it’s a clue, that my life doesn’t seem to work out here and I belong somewhere else, maybe back home or in a new country…. I don’t know but I am willing to find out so I can let all of this be in the past.

I cannot feign hate on the person I have already forgiven — even if my forgiveness was never asked for.

What the hell was I thinking wishing her the worst when she is already suffering enough (I assume)? Just because I am happy with my life doesn’t mean I will wish those who have hurt me the worst. I was not raised that way. Besides, it is not a classy way to do it.

I want to be bitchy, but I really am not. I am harmless because I am mostly ruled by compassion (or sorge according to Heidegger). That’s the thing with us humans, we have this ability to feel for other human beings. We feel their pain even if we are not the ones who are experiencing it.

I try to convince myself that I will have the last laugh, but how can you laugh at other people’s misfortunes and sufferings? That’s just inhumane to do so.

The pain of being left alone by the person you love is almost similar to the pain of going through the death of a loved one. I, for one, would never wish that on anyone, even my worst enemies.

That has always been my mantra — until now.

So to the person who endlessly talked smack behind my back, I want to wish you a “boo hoo.” I don’t know what I did to deserve what you have done to me (considering the fact that I do not even know you), but this is one of the many perks of my decision to keep my class and be the better person; I get front row seats in watching the lesser person’s world burn.

Who said pity is a good thing? If anything, it is ludicrous if you find it even remotely synonymous to compassion. I will never, ever find it in my heart to give you even a drop of sympathy.

Failed to load module: /usr/lib/gio/modules/libgvfsdbus.so
/usr/lib/gio/modules/libgvfsdbus.so: niewłaściwa klasa ELF: ELFCLASS64

Błąd mówi o tym, że Twój system próbuje skorzystać z biblioteki 64-bitowej. Adobe AIR z jakiego możesz skorzystać pod GNU/Linux nie obsłuży 64-bitowych bibliotek, bo jest 32-bitowy.

Objawem zwykle jest to, że e-deklaracje wiszą i nie mogą – mimo działającego połączenia internetowego – posłać PITa gdzie trzeba. Przeszedłeś wszystkie kroki, kręciołek się kręci, a Ty możesz kilka godzin nawet patrzeć się na to i nic się nie pojawia a PIT do Ministerstwa nie trafia.

O ile wiem, czasem wystarczy zainstalować ia32-libs via sudo apt get install. Mnie jednak nie wystarczyło:


tammo@tammo-laptop:~$ sudo apt-get install ia32-libs
[sudo] password for tammo:
Czytanie list pakietów... Gotowe
Budowanie drzewa zależności
Odczyt informacji o stanie... Gotowe
ia32-libs jest już w najnowszej wersji.


Poradziłem sobie inaczej.

1. odpaliłem e-deklaracje nie przez skrót, lecz z terminala, by dostawać tam komunikaty o błędach
2. przy wysyłaniu dostałem błędy jak poniżej
   
3. upewniłem się, że pyta o bibliotekę x64 i że mam odpowiednik x32:

tammo@tammo-laptop:~$ file /usr/lib/gio/modules/libgvfsdbus.so 
/usr/lib/gio/modules/libgvfsdbus.so: ELF 64-bit LSB shared object, x86-64, version 1 (SYSV), dynamically linked, stripped
tammo@tammo-laptop:~$ file /usr/lib32/gio/modules/libgvfsdbus.so 
/usr/lib32/gio/modules/libgvfsdbus.so: ELF 32-bit LSB shared object, Intel 80386, version 1 (SYSV), dynamically linked, stripped

4. przeniosłem pierwszą 64-bitową bibliotekę, której Adobe AIR nie mogło znaleźć, do katalogu tmp, skopiowałem w jej miejsce wersję 32-bitową

Dlaczego tylko pierwszą? Chciałem sprawdzić, czy to zadziała w ogóle. Założyłem, że jeśli zmieni mi się komunikat błędu, to prosta podmiana działa.

Okazało się, że działa nadzwyczaj dobrze: przesłanie PITa odbyło się bez żadnych problemów.

Na koniec zalecam posprzątać i wstawić 64-bitową wersję tam, skąd się ją wycięło. Biblioteki współdzielone są używane nie tylko przez Adobe AIR czy e-deklaracje.

W wypadku dalszych problemów

]]> http://polyenthusiast.com/2013/04/26/homelessness-come-on-now/ Fri, 26 Apr 2013 20:35:21 +0000 polyenthusiast http://polyenthusiast.com/2013/04/26/homelessness-come-on-now/ “Stop viewing ‘homeless people’ as a subculture, think of them instead as ‘people experiencing homelessness.’ ” This line resonated with me during my orientation session to volunteer at the Knight’s Table, a food bank in Brampton. Now, not everyone has the time to volunteer, and I’m not trying to make anyone feel bad. Instead, I’d like you know that there are steps everyone can take to support change!

There are many misconceptions which form barriers to overcoming this problem, and I’d like to address some of these head-on:

They’re just going to buy drugs with the money.

I once gave some money to a young man as I jokingly said, “buy yourself some good weed with this, buddy!” to which he solemnly replied, “I don’t smoke.” Man, did I feel like a giant piece of shit. Who the hell did I think I was, making assumptions about his life like that? And so what if he was going to buy something to ease his troubles, I am in no place to judge. COME ON NOW: If you’re going to give, then give. Don’t attach arbitrary conditions to your generosity.

It’s not that big of a problem where I live.

That’s great! But wouldn’t it break your heart if you lived in a neighbourhood where it were visibly prevalent? COME ON NOW: There are shelters, nourishment programs, even rehabilitation programs for those that have unfortunately become addicted to substances, and the fact is that these programs exist BECAUSE homelessness is a very real problem, and it’s happening right now in a neighbourhood near you.

I have my own issues to worry about.

Work, conflicting priorities, people to take care of, finance… life can be an endless to-do list, and it can be hard to think beyond that, buuuuut COME ON NOW: If you can do nothing else, at least take the time to THINK about the issue. Put yourself in their shoes. Take steps to becoming more informed about homelessness. Talk about it with your friends. Maybe you’ll inspire someone else, or maybe down the road you will be able to help out yourself.

They don’t look like they need it.

I know many people who will only give their change to someone who looks really down on their luck. Someone once told me that they’ll donate “if the person’s clothes look ripped.” COME ON NOW: If someone is asking for your help, it’s because they need your help.

I just don’t make eye contact.

Sometimes we choose to see just the beautiful things in life. This is why Instagram is so popular, if we think about it. But ignoring a problem doesn’t make it disappear, and ignoring a person doesn’t make him or her disappear. COME ON NOW: Treat them like you would a friend. Smile and offer encouragement, your words will mean a lot.

I don’t have the time.

Don’t you ever wish there was an extra day in the week? We all have important priorities that can fill up our schedule, and that’s okay. But this doesn’t mean there’s nothing you can do. COME ON NOW: Next time you’re out at a restaurant, pack up your leftovers and offer it to someone who asks for help. Outside of my local grocery store there are always one or two people who ask for change, and since I don’t usually carry cash I always offer to buy groceries for them.

She has a dog, so she probably gets tons of pity-cash.

Yes, I’m sure she gets TONS of money for having a furry companion by her side. I’m sure she’s just raking in the dough. She’s probably a millionairess who swims in a pool of $100 bills. COME ON NOW: The fact is she’s still sitting on the street, and she has two mouths to feed.

He’s young/able-bodied, he can get a job.

Maybe you’re right, maybe he can get a job. That would be awesome! But would you hire him? Heck, maybe right now he’s just trying to get away from a bad situation, and between that and homelessness, he chose homelessness, so COME ON NOW: Spare a buck, or a jacket, or a belt, or anything. Maybe even ASK him what would help. Then maybe he’ll be able to get back on his feet and, perhaps, finally land that job.

Now watch this interview:

That choked me up too.

Want to do more? Hurrah! Here is a great list of 35 Ways to Help the Homeless from JustGive.

And hey, maybe there’s another cause that you’re passionate about. That’s rad! Take time to think about it, get informed about it, talk about it, and do something about it.

Let’s make the world a better place

Right now, when I feel so stressed and tired, life decides to give you another kick to break you. Another kick to test your strength and no matter how strong you pretend to be, we’re all pretty weak. We all have that sensitive spot, we all have a heart that is waiting to be broken. Hearts are fragile, hearts are capable of unimaginable amounts of love and when you give it, when you feel love for someone else, the more easy it is to break. The more easy it is to break, the more pain it will cause and the bigger the fall will be. The harder the fall will be.

You know when it happens, that empty feeling in the pit of your stomach, you feel sick. You try to lie to yourself, because you think that will stop the pain but it won’t you know. It just covers it like a bandage covers a wound but if you don’t tend to it, you don’t care for it your  heart isn’t going to mend. The thing about hearts is that they’re stupid. They break but they trust and latch onto something again so easily. Sometimes they latch on to the very thing that broke it in the first place… That’s when it’s harder.

They tell us to follow our heart, but what if following your heart is the very thing that’s going to drag you to that dark place. The thing that makes it worse it the fact that we see other people hurting, other people suffering and guilt sets in. We feel guilty even though we shouldn’t have to. We deserve to feel self pity once in a while, we are allowed to feel sad in our heartbreak and we are allowed to feel upset for ourselves. We can be selfish every once in a while and that doesn’t make us bad people, it just makes us human.

I’m feeling heartache, heartbreak, whatever you want to call it. I feel like somebody has ripped my heart out of my chest and torn it to pieces in front of me. My stomach aches and feels empty, like a part of me is missing. I feel tired and weary of letting the same person hurt me over and over, of letting the same person break my heart again and again. I hate feeling so fragile and broken, just because I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot who let’s her heart get broken and then falls for the same guy again. Falls harder, faster and deeper for the same person who keeps hurting me. I know that all I’m going to keep feeling is pain and I know that the only outcome of all of this is me getting my heart broken yet I can’t stop myself. Because the thought is so perfect. Some may say I’m a dreamer, and I am. I’m a dreamer and I’m a romantic and I believe in fairytales and happy ever afters, it’s in my nature. And that is why I dream of that perfection, a perfection that doesn’t exist, that will never happen and that is so far out of reach that it is the reason my heart keeps breaking. Even now, when my heart is broken I still know I’ll go back, I still know this is the first of many times that my heart is going to broken. I suppose it’s all part of being human, of being old enough to be aware of your emotions… Of being old enough to fall in love and for your heart to split in two.

I finally understand what Michael Buble was singing about. “I’m not surprised, not everything lasts, I’ve broken my heart so many times I’ve stopped keeping track”. I know how he feels, I know what it feels like and I know that I’ll never stop falling back in love with someone, no matter how much they hurt me. In the words of Coldplay, “When you love someone but it goes to waste, could it be worse?”

Love is funny, love is stupid and love is pain. But no matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it isn’t like the fairytales or the happy ever afters, you’re going to keep falling back into it. That person will never love you, your existence doesn’t register – you’ll still love. Love and let your poor, fragile heart get broken…

Perhaps it won’t always be like that, but for now we’re just going to have to cope with broken hearts, broken dreams and heartbroken tears.

Love hurts.

That was the end of that conversation.

I don’t know if what I said got through to her because she is only five, but I hope that she will learn and understand things. I know it took me forever to appreciate my parents and they are my birth parents. I don’t know how she will be when she is older, I’m sure she will hate me sometimes but all I can do is hope and have as much patience as I can for her.

God’s Message to me: (My interpretation of what God is saying in these verses)

What are the needs in your little corner of the world?  What are you doing to meet those needs?  I send you into your world to reach out to people in their needs and share My love and care for them.  My message of salvation begins with the basic needs of humanity.  Who do you pity?  Let your pity motivate you to do something helpful.  That is Jesus love—love in action.

The crowds of people were so caught up in the message Jesus spoke that they forgot about their need for food.  Jesus disciples suggested Jesus send them away to get food but Jesus had a better idea.  “You feed them,” He said.  They had nothing but five small loaves and two fish and there were 5000 people there.  Because Jesus knew the body as well as the spirit needed nourishment—he told them to get the people ready to eat.  He then took the small amount, looked to heaven in prayer and blessed the food—then passed it out.  The 5000 eat and there were 12 baskets of leftovers gathered.

Don’t hesitate to get involved in meeting needs thinking you don’t have enough time, money, or skills.  I gave you your passions and skills and have put you right where you are to meet the needs of those around you. You are my hands and feet of mercy to a hurting world.  As Jesus had pity, showing compassion to the sick, lonely and hungry, I am calling you to minister to these needs of others.  Meeting needs is key to opening hearts for My message of love and salvation to be absorbed.

God’s Question: Will you take the focus off  of self and look around you for ways to minister to the basic needs of others?

God’s Promise: As you take the first steps I will lead and provide you with the means and resources to bless others lives.

My Prayer to God

I praise You for calling me to reach out to the needs of others.

I am sorry I keep putting off reaching out to others.

Thank You for this reminder from Jesus life.

Help me to bless You by blessing others.

You saw them. The same lines that others shied away from. You did not. You accepted. I had no fear then. I felt comfortable. Finally one person could understand. Could see the scars and still see the person that I am now, not the person I was. I do not do it anymore. Either way I can not change it, they are a part of me and I am a part of them. The scars represent my past not my present. You hugged me and told me they would fade apart from one. So to the one who understood (you know who you are), all I can say is thank you. It means a lot.

And in all honesty i have been feeling very useless since i heard the news. I don’t know how to comfort her or how to even talk about it. I have been sending her messages though and i wonder if i was insensitive.

The thing is, i am not one to feel pity and i don’t want people feeling pity for me so when such things happen i completely shut down and let nothing in. But i believe i have grown from that, i do deal with the situation but in my own way. I do not talk about it, i cry my lungs out all on my own and I need people to continue per normal. The minute you start feeling pity for me and making it seem like the world is ending then I just shut down, no emotions no nothing will be shown. I know how it feels like to lose someone dear to you and a mother for that matter. I haven’t lost mine but I have someone who resembled that of a mother and after more than 16 years I am still not over the death. I don’t want people telling me that things will be okay and I will be alright because we all know that things will never be the same and maybe just maybe things will be okay but not the same.

So if she now decides to shut me out yes it will hurt but that is how some people deal with loss, with pain. Pain that cannot in any way explained. The kind of pain that makes a person feel like they are going insane or they do not wish to see another day and another sun rise. And when you have given into the pain all that you want to do is put your hand inside your heart, literally try to pull out the red thing beating underneath your clothing.

Maybe I feel that way because I have forced myself to grow up fast. I wanted every emotion to consume me and I thought I would make it out with no scratch and no heartache. But that is rather impossible. Heartaches happen every day.

And now I will go back to my phone, text my friend, send her courageous messages. Oh how they piss me off. And it makes me wonder how a person feels when they also get such because I know I hate them with a passion. But no matter what you think or feel, one cannot just tell people to stop sending them, it would be rude. So I shall send the messages and I will (like I always do) check up on and if I could, I would take the first flight out of town and go to the burial just to show support but I cannot do that and that makes me sad.

But we all know that life has to continue….

But He glorifies the virtuous man because in his will he is united to God.

At the same time, in His goodness He is merciful to the sinner and by chastising him in this life brings him back to the path of virtue.

Similarly, a man of good and dispassionate judgment also loves all men equally.

He loves the virtuous man because of his nature and the probity of his intention; and he loves the sinner, too, because of his nature and because in his compassion he pities him for foolishly stumbling in darkness.

Philokalia
St Maximos the Confessor
Four Hundred Texts on Love
First Century

Monk Christopher with Christ near the river
Монах Христофор с Христом возле речки
By Jury Annenkov, 1917

It is rather hard to explain to the world; we throw alcoholics away, after all. We throw all addicts away. There’s a “why don’t you leave?” syndrome thrown into any conversation about such things. Worse, is the look–the why don’t you leave look is even worse than people who just flat out ask. 

The answer is simple: I have a sick spouse. Spouse has one, too. Why doesn’t Spouse leave me? I have arthritis. It is degenerative, incurable, chronic. I have issues that land me in the hospital regularly. I have a reserved seat at the ER. I am so allergic to things that fumes make my throat swell shut. Why doesn’t Spouse leave? Spouse’s problem can be fixed. Mine will only get worse. Spouse WILL have to take care of me some day.

“Why don’t you leave?” or the suggestion I should not have entangled myself in such a relationship angers me. If Spouse were to leave me because of my illness, Spouse would incur the disdain of society! Yet I am expected to leave Spouse? Spouse is ill. There are cures. Spouse is getting care and taking care.

And this is my manifesto.

There is no excuse.

I am not saying “stay at all costs” or even “stay” to anyone. I simply do not understand the instinct to throw away people afflicted with addiction. People are not disposable. Spouse cannot be replaced. 

Mind you, I am not being abused. There is not violence, and the fighting, though it can be abusive at times, is just fighting. It is temporary. We always talk about it after. Among the al-anon tools are the ones that allow me to separate my emotions from what Spouse says when Spouse is drunk.

I used to think, in vino veritas, but I’ve come to understand that in vino inhibition loss, but not any truth telling. There is always the truth of the underlying anger, or pain, or frustration, that may drive a comment, but Spouse is not capable of properly emoting when drunk, just as I am not capable of properly defining a four-month migraine. 

I am in nearly constant pain. So is Spouse. When I understand Spouse’s pain, it is because I want Spouse to understand mine. And Spouse, as therapy and coming closer to a cure take hold, is beginning to understand both Spouse’s pain and mine.

Spouse’s pain is just as real, just as pervasive, just as insidious as mine. I would guess, though, that Spouse’s pain is made worse by the judgement that society would place on it. Addiction is seen as the fault of the addicted. We judge addicts–so long as their addiction is to something “bad.” So the woman addicted to exercise is ok, and the one addicted to crack is a whore. The man addicted to work is driven and the man addicted to alcohol is a drunk. And the ones who have addictions we don’t approve of are inherently weak, stupid, incapable, bound to fail at life, and always headed for misery. Those addicted to approved substances or behaviors (like 50′s valium wives) become role models. They are our heroes, while the others are dirt who have no capacity for self-control.

The truth is far less clear. The truth lies in brain chemistry multiplied by upbringing, factored by culture and food and environment and, and. and… ad naseum.

The truth is that we are a culture of addicts.

The truth is that Spouse’s value does not lie in his ability or inability to control drinking. No human’s value can lie in the substance or behavior to which he or she is addicted; particularly when we are all addicts.

Spouse’s value lies in the love we share. It lies in the care we can find. Spouse’s greatest value lies in our teaching each other to be better humans and learning together how to work as a team.

Believe me, I know where the door is. And he knows where my lines of absolutely no return are: infidelity and abuse. That’s it.

I’m sure Oprah is right about women who need to walk away from dangerous relationships before they are shot or beaten to death, and I get that “love doesn’t hurt.” But humans are hurt. We have all been hurt in the process of being raised and so we hurt, and the beauty of love is that it heals. The difficulty of healing is that it can take time, and it always takes work.

I do not walk out that door; not because I have any delusions about Spouse being my only hope or about my inability to care for myself. I would have a better, stronger and faster career without Spouse. I do not walk out that door because without Spouse I might have many things, but one of the biggest things I would have is the hole in my soul where Spouse belongs.

WE are getting healthy TOGETHER.

Keep that dumb-ass look of pity mixed with disdain to yourself!

(Please click image to enlarge.)

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Copyright 2013 by G. E. Gallas