On the expression of feeling.

Emotions are a wonderful thing. It seems like everyone has them but not everyone knows what they're for.

Emotions are messengers - they are supposed to send us a message and then leave us in time. When they fester, they become a problem. Momentary anger, for instance, can spur us to the defense of something good or to correct some injustice. Lingering, festering anger leads us to vengeance. Momentary sadness can lead us to seek others or to fulfill a need, but lingering sadness can lead to self-pity, self-hatred, or self-destruction.

I am not ashamed to admit that for a man I am unusually in touch with my feelings. However, this has had its drawbacks as well, because I can't escape them sometimes. I have found healthy outlets for my feelings...but some of them were good only temporarily, or misdirected...see my last few posts if you want to know what I mean.

In the quietness of my life right now, I have returned to writing down my feelings (outside of this blog). I don't really have very many people to talk to at the moment for various reasons, so this is a good alternative. Usually when there aren't many people around anymore, I get all-consumed by my loneliness, and that hasn't happened yet in this quiet space. I feel totally OK. I would very much like to keep it that way.

So, today I wrote a poem expressing my feelings. Tonight, I will be writing a letter I won't send. Tomorrow, who knows? I might write someone an email. Or call someone - if they answer, and if I can think of someone to call.

I suppose for the average person, managing a period of quiet in one's life is probably not a struggle. Not for me. I am weak to my feelings and always have been. My Dad would shame me for crying as a boy, and my elementary school principal told me I wear my heart on my sleeve. If that's a problem then it's mine to bear for good because I haven't yet found a cure.

I am very proud of myself for my progress. At this time last year, I was really a mess from my feelings of abandonment and loneliness. Now, I simply see this for what it is. I accept that if I do not reach out to people, I cannot expect that anyone will reach out to me. I expect that when I reach out, some people may not respond. It's just a fact. For you, reader, this may seem silly but for me this is revolutionary. When everyone left where I live, and no one tried to stay in touch and I was all alone I couldn't handle it. I did not handle it...very well at all. Now I am. Now I can.

I think what also helps is that I now see myself more for who I really am...not completely, but much closer than before. I am really not that great. I am not very special. But I'm worth something and I have dignity. I am necessary and I am loved. I am not always loved by people. I am often not loved by people. But I continue to make my way in the world - the often senseless and thoughtless, sinning, ordinary human being I am has a purpose I still have to discover...some kind of way for me to be a conduit for God's glory in the world...otherwise I would not be here, I would be dead already. I am no longer pretending I know what it is.

I think many times earlier in my blog, I felt I knew my purpose...and that vision led me to despair because I wasn't getting engaged, I wasn't getting a job, I wasn't growing deeper in friendship with certain people, and I wasn't getting anywhere near what I felt my purpose was. Now I know better. I do not assume I know what the future holds, nor do I look ahead. Oh, yes, sometimes I get little fantasies about what I hope will happen. But I try not to entertain them. I am only planning what I absolutely have to plan...because at any moment, God may blow my plans to smithereens and lead me off in a different, wonderful direction.

Who am I? I'm just me. Where am I going, and what's waiting for me there? I really don't know. How do I feel? Just fine.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream of true expression.

The chronic thinker.

I've concluded that stopping the downward spiral of thinking that is my brain is as difficult as stopping a train with a flyswatter. Prevention is the best medicine.

A chronic thinker is someone who relentlessly contemplates everything. Thoughts can run from anxiety-provoking thoughts like "I wonder if we're in tornado alley? I better check. OHMYGOSH WE ARE, I GOTTA GO MAKE A SHELTER" to depressing thoughts like "They haven't called. I guess they're not interested. No one calls. So no one is interested in spending time with me." It likely has little to do with intelligence and more to do with emotion.

Observe: Last weekend was a nightmare for the chronic thinker I am. I had already been starting to get quite upset by how quickly many of my friendships had disappeared once I was no longer around to try and keep them going. How little it seemed most people thought of me unless I was right in their faces. So, I emailed a long lost friend and my last girlfriend, just innocently asking how they were and what they were up to. Nothing more. Then, I had to take part in my friend's wedding. It was an honor and a nightmare. For one, I had to see my last girlfriend, who seemed to be virtually inseparable from her new boyfriend. I felt as though I missed her. I began to make the connection between her and the last time I was happy, realizing again what a support she had been in my life where friends and family were failing me. I kept trying to remind myself that it was not her I missed, but the loving support. No use - my thoughts kept bouncing back and forth like a bouncy ball in a concrete room. Wondering where I'd gone wrong. Thinking about what we had been together. Hating myself for thinking about that because I knew I was right to end the relationship and it was the best thing for us.

Continuing on, I thought about how I lost a lot of the friends I had when I broke up with her. How they cared more about her than about me, even though I was hurt, too. How none of them except the guy I was friends with before we dated tried to be my friend anymore. Making the connection between that and my current misery. Reflecting on how it was my own choice, my own unselfish desire to do the right thing that led to us breaking up and destroying what I did not know was my biggest support group in life. Reflecting on if I hadn't broken up with my last girlfriend we might be engaged/almost engaged by now...and that we'd be planning our wedding. Thinking again about how pathetic this all is and I should be happy with myself for just doing the right thing and continuing to be myself.

Repeat.

Wrote a letter to a girl I loved and respected before she moved away. Tried to keep it brief, friendly, and optimistic. Failed. Cried miserably the entire time I wrote it. Reflected on how every time I write this girl a letter I don't stop crying until I finish the letter. Told a friend I missed her. Wondered what might have happened if I had seen her the way I see her now months ago. Tried not to think about it. Failed that, too. Told another friend, one of the few to actually still really care about me, to stop texting me everyday to make sure I was OK even though I appreciated it because it was making me too emotionally attached. She agreed. Reflected on how wretched doing the right thing can make you feel sometimes. Hated myself for not just being happy I did the right thing. Went to sleep.

And woke up...fine. Fine! I've been fine all day. What's changed?

I'll tell you. I didn't start thinking about it. So I haven't thought of this stuff all day until now. This is just one of those things I'm still figuring out about myself. If I can keep myself away from the things that trigger me (Facebook, certain people, some texts) I don't start thinking about that stuff...and I remain OK.

Now it's written, so now I can't forget. I said I was the only one who can help me, and now I am.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream to slow it down.

That THING.

So there was once this THING that I didn't understand before.

This odd depression I noticed people about four years older than me getting. You know, they'd be leaving college. I, a freshman, never understood why they all looked so mopey. They just graduated...they're movin' on. Gettin' a career. What's wrong with that? They should be happy. And it was always only the single ones. Why the single ones?

Now I get it. That thing. It happens when everyone your age is getting married or engaged. It looks like this:

These posts always make me a little self-conscious. I like to pretend I don't care but I do. I know that people will always be quick to jump to conclusions about someone making a post about being single. I do it myself sometimes. Well, here's to posting about what I want to post about anyway. I can't stop you.

Anyway, I know I won't be forever alone and I'm not lonely. That's not the point. The point is, I'm saying something about people. About life - in all its stages. And I'm at that stage where I see everyone around me getting engaged and getting married. And it's hard to be happy for them. It really is.

It'd be a little different if I were in a relationship myself. It truly feels like I did something wrong - because I was with someone for a while, and for the most part I loved it, and almost everyone I know who was in a relationship at that time is now engaged to their significant other. It didn't end that way for me. I dealt the final blow myself.

But when I go to an awesome wedding for two people whom I both look up to so much...and all I can do is clap along with everyone else and pretend I'm not jealous...man, it just sucks. It just does. At a wedding, everyone loves you, sings your praises, eats, dances, and has a blast with you...your best friend at your side, with whom by the end of the night you will be having more than just a little fun. Heck yeah, I want that. At least I'm honest. I don't play along with a pretend utopia where I pretend I don't want what I want. Sometimes that's all I got really going for me - the balls to be honest and say it like I see it.

Balls - there's a word I seem to be using a lot today. That's what it's taken for me to put myself out there. Over. And over. And over again. None of that guarantees someone success. They can do everything right - I can do everything right. And nothing is guaranteed to come of it.

But I gain nothing from just not trying. And I try. I do. And I listen when people tell me to basically not worry about it. To pray. And I do, and and I try. But that's not how this thing works. What I want is something really good - and you can't take the desire for good from me.

My only temptation is to take the easy way out sometimes - and believe me, it's there. Always. But what I keep holding on to is this idea that I must always, always do the right thing. No matter how hard it is. Oh, and I know I fail sometimes, but that is what I always strive for in the end. I want to do what is easy so bad just to feel like my life is going somewhere I want it to for a while.

All I can do is just keep trying as hard as I can to do everything right. Be myself. Keep praying. Trust. Move on. And I do. But it just doesn't get easier.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream for ever together.

Last of the old, first of the new.

Have you ever seen the movie Groundhog Day?

The basic premise of the movie is that the worst day of the main character's life occurs on Groundhog Day. Somehow, though, every time he goes to sleep, he wakes up the next morning and it's the same Groundhog Day. He is stuck in an infinite loop. Eventually he turns that worst day into the best day, and finally is free of the loop and has a new outlook on life.

For a long time now I've been really down. My spiritual life has been the pits, I wasn't happy about the future, I was not content with pretty much everything in my life. I couldn't tell what was wrong with me. It was like I wasn't directing my own life anymore. The thoughts going through my head all the time, some of the things I said or did...it's been a hard time.

I really think I've just been depressed. The Groundhog Day idea is really appealing as it relates to the past four years. Do it all over again, and do it RIGHT this time. I don't want to move, to change, to go away. I would rather just fade away...like dust in the wind.

I'm not really sure if it's over but I feel better. I've been accepted to grad school where I've been going to college for the past four years and things are looking up. My future might be in counseling after all...so long as I really get this graduate degree.

I feel as though I am the last bastion of the old STM crowd and the first of the new. I've actually thought that for a long time. See, I was here when Creed was in its final years...and then I was here to see the new group arise. I disappeared here and there, it's true, but something's changed. Something's different. Ask anyone who has been here as long as I have...it's an entirely different flavor. Not good or bad, just different.

The last of the old. It feels like forever ago...a faded memory, that I came here to college, friendless, hopeless, and with little virtue. I remember what it was like coming here. I cried after a week because I felt so alone. That first year was a fluke. A total fluke that I ended up hanging around Creed...simply because someone invited me that I randomly met over the summer and I felt too guilty not to go...

The first of the new. I had disappeared and intended not to return...and then, I had no choice because there was nothing left for me. But it was too late to get back the time I had lost. I made the last year and a half the best of what it could be. But there will be no second chance, no Groundhog Day of repeating circumstance. It is what it is.

But now, I do have another chance. I have come back, at the turn of the tide. There is a bright tomorrow, new faces, lit for Christ. And I will be there to gain back the time I lost.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream that is the first and the last.

The true nature of depression...

I have decided to treat sadness as an illusion on the other side of happiness.

Regardless of whether or not I'm bipolar as I think I may very well be, it was very easy for me to learn that the main difference between myself when I'm happy and myself when I'm sad is perspective.

When I was sad, I could only see the negative in my life. I totally ignored the things that made me happy, or could make me happy. However, without any aspect of my life changing at all, I can become very happy by simply focusing on even the smallest sources of happiness in my day. It's not easy, but it's possible! I prove it to myself every time I have a mood swing.

So, if my mood is merely a reflection of whatever is on my mind, I can control my mood by intentionally blinding myself to my problems. I can break the illusion of sadness by adjusting the mirrors, so to speak!

A note of importance: This is easier said than done. I'm not yet sure whether I will be able to do this with any sure success...but it's definitely worth trying. I will probably mention this again someday.

There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was that the illusion of sadness would be broken for good.

Bipolar? And other questions...

So, I think I'm bipolar.

I have proof. How many people do you know go from in tears all day one day and the next, feel completely fine? Every time I go through these phases of depression and happiness I notice something: I can't understand why I was in the other state.

When I'm depressed, I am completely convince that I have no reason to be happy. My mind is completely focused on misery, and I can't feel happy. When people are nice to me, I don't know how to respond. I can't motivate myself to do anything. I am convinced I'm worthless.

When I'm happy, like I am now, I can't understand why I was ever down. The problems I was upset about seem distant...like a dream, or like it was long ago, or happening to someone else. I love everyone. I find joy in the tiniest of things...I have a good self-esteem, I feel invincible.

It's like I'm two separate people. I don't get it.

I also think I might be done discerning the priesthood. I'm not 100% sure yet, but for a while I've been rolling the question around in my head...since last summer, actually. What is God calling me to? Marriage or Priesthood? Or something else? Well, the original reason for discerning wasn't a really good one, in my opinion. The sheer multitude of rejections by women I liked made me feel like it could be a clear message that I'm not supposed to be married - since there are really no coincidences.

Now I feel different. I have felt for a long time a great desire to give of myself to a woman, for life. That's not really a priest thing...and it's not going away, even in the face of prayers about being a priest and the continued "bad luck" with women. I think the whole women issue might be a nice post for another time, though.

The other question I'm faced with (throughout the day, in prayer, etc.) is what I'm doing after I graduate from college. I'm an English major with a Journalism minor. There is a possibility I can get a job, but I feel called to stay where I am. Work for my church as a minister. Since I wasted so much of my college life on stupid things, I feel like it would be poetic justice for me to stay here for the same amount of time I wasted: doing it right this time. But that's also a long story for another entry.

There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was that there could be balance and certainty.

On determination, and November.

Boy, when I actually feel good, I feel it.

Through a complicated series of events, I've been launched into this strange state I find myself in from time to time where I have neither solved, nor forgotten my problems and anxieties, but found the strength to overlook them temporarily.

I'd rather not bog down my writing with the details, but suffice it to say it's the stuff that usually makes me feel good: spending time talking and laughing with fun and loving people, sharing things, and feeling truly welcome. Granted, most of it was due to circumstances that were forced upon us all, but I'm trying to ignore that minor detail.

So, whenever I feel good like I do now, I am always filled with a sense of determination that it should continue that way, and that I have the chance to make my life better. Things don't seem so hopeless: I feel fun and attractive to women, rather than a "bottom of the barrel" sort of guy I usually feel like...Rather than feeling like people have lost touch with me because they don't care about me anymore, I feel like "it's their loss." My sense of humor improves, my self-control improves, my work ethic improves, and my mood improves most of all. It's an all-around welcome change.

However, I'm worried that this might wear off again soon. It usually does, sometimes very quickly. And it always makes those disappointments seem so much worse. After all, when you expect disappointment and failure it hurts a lot less than when you are so sure things are taking a turn for the better and you turn out completely wrong.

Now that it is November, I feel especially susceptible to this sort of thing. Most of the biggest hurts in my life have happened to me in November. I'm not entirely sure why, and I don't mean to be superstitious, but I see a clear pattern. I hate being so cynical, but really...now that I am feeling alright, if I'm not careful I'll start asking myself "So, I feel good, which usually means something awful is about to happen. It's also November, the month where the worst things always happen. What's it going to be this time?"

But this determination...I don't even know what to do with it. It makes me want to go run outside and save the world. But the things that bother me in life are all the things out of my control. Determination has little to do with it all. I'll just have to enjoy the feeling while it's here.

There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was that determination would always bring results.