Monthly Archives: January 2016

Results May Vary

Nothing in life is sure fire. Today my mom had a heart attack. A bad one, was placed in the ICU and had surgery, lots of indicators it was serious. And somehow I feel distant. Dissonant. I took my meds hours ago, and despite not having racing thoughts or depression per se, I feel awake. I feel. Just here.

I mean I guess we all respond to this stuff differently. But I have work in a few hours. I have to be up and showered and ready to go. And my meds are taking some of the longest they ever could. And I don’t know why. I didn’t sleep last night either, just had stressful dreams all night constantly waking me. ┬áSo I should be asleep.

My friends and girlfriend all fell asleep I suppose. I’m left to sit here and wonder why. I didn’t write at first, I was so sure I was just gonna get tired. But it still has yet to happen. Usually I start getting sick and can’t swallow long before now. Nope. Just a bit off. Like it’s not me in here. Or rather no one is really in here. Not correctly. I just feel so distant from myself. It’s hard to explain. And I’m gonna have to go to work tomorrow and tell them my mom is in the ICU again and see what can be done. Maybe I risk my job with all the stuff going on lately, that’d be just another day as me too.

I just. Need everything to chill out. I was having some anxiety build up badly until today. Now it’s just like no one is home. I’m not anxious. I’m not stressed really. I’m not depressed. I’m just out of it.

I don’t think writing helped like I thought it would, but I guess that’s ok, ha, like the title says, results may vary.


The Good Decision…

So much we think about how we got here. Or there. Or will be somewhere someday. I think when you’re someone with a lot of burdens in your life, or someone with a lot success, you may find yourself asking these kinds of questions more.

I had a hard time, still do, with people saying the homeless have made poor decisions and using that as some sort of argument why they are lesser people, why they don’t need love or care. I don’t think most people intentionally or considerably make what we would all regard as a poor decision.

Recently another novel idea occurs to me. Most of those, for one reason or another they thought it was a good decision. Their morals and philosophy led them to believe that, even if just for a moment. I feel that everybody in a position that would be considered less than enviable, abusive relationship, homeless, jobless, or maybe physically impaired. I think we could all consider there to be one decision that begun it all. Even if it’s far back.

I’d like us, as a species, to consider our “one decision” that got us here. Wherever that is.

I’ll go first. I’m Grant, I’m a drop out, who’s trying to get his act together to eventually develop a career. I have bipolar disorder, and some other health issues. I’ve got a pretty great girlfriend though, who helps me grow as a person and in my faith.

So. Not too bad right? I’m enviable to some at least I bet. That’s a summary of where I’m at. So what got me here? Now. We can consider this in means of comparison, how did I get from point A to point B. We can also consider a generalization. I feel either is fine as long as you are honest.

What got me here? Desperation.

Now for me, I’m seeing the large part is the last turning point was my suicide attempt. That’s when everything started changing for me. Interesting right? I got to a good place out of desperation. If you want to pin it on one decision, that’s to say my suicide attempt. And I don’t condone that one bit. I came out of it with a better mind set having survived, not because death was so close. I can’t even convey how important life is. But that was my personal turning point. It’s more complex than the one thing, I know, but it hinges on that.

Now here’s the lesson I want to really impart. A bad decision led to good things to come. Just as a good decision can lead to bad things to come. At the time my bad decision seemed like a good one, it certainly wasn’t. But I encourage people to think about their one decision. Is it good? Is it bad? What were the outcomes?

I see a homeless person, I don’t immediately jump to they did drugs and don’t deserve help. I embrace my empathy and hope. I think “Who did they trust or love that it ended up this way?”. It’s time we started loving one another regardless of difference and background and beliefs. There is time for anger. But it’s so tossed around eagerly in our society, I don’t think we even understand the difference between anger and hatred anymore, the two are hand and hand. And we justify it as being necessary. No.

Next time someone says they aren’t bad people, they just make bad decisions. You tell them, “Or maybe it was a good decision that got them into trouble”.


You could not even fathom

Or maybe you could. Bipolar is hard. Recovery, treatment? Often just as hard, maybe even harder. I’ve really always been faithful. I’ve not always been holy or “good”. But I did a lot of things because of how I saw the world.

In high school during lent. I would try and fail to give up masturbation. Or pornography. Heads up, if you knew me in high school, there would be days I did not eat then. Or days I minimized me food. That was fasting. That was my repent. I would try to keep going with the idea of no masturbation.

I think the most I ever made it was 10 days, and you know what? Not during lent. But each day I broke that vow. I paid for it with fasting and prayer. And often I would drift from this during the rest of the year or during tough times. But I never lost my faith. I just kinda grow a bit differently. I see the Truth in other religions, but also know that my Truth is the Truth. It is not for me to judge. I love Atheists, Muslims, worshippers of the spaghetti god freak me out a little, but I can love them too. I mention those two in specific because that is the social or cultural concern, I don’t mean for it to feel as though I am calling out Atheists or Muslims. Just those are some of the things I fear are more common on the list as much as I wish otherwise, but them and all, I can love. I feel that is what I’m called for. Love. And maybe it’s taken a while. But also, if you saw my expected post death words, maybe you’d see that’s all that matter.

But I’ll be damned if I’m not rewarded now for it. My girlfriend, is probably the best thing to happen to me. Or at least hell of serendipitous moment. I prayed. She answered my prayers, or rather she was the answer, no way around that. When someone brings more God into your life when you ask for it, they are the response.

Back to the post title. Maybe you can fathom. The spiritual health I am growing to have. The happiness and well being. Even if I’m not so well just yet. It’s immeasurable, to me, I cannot fathom it, but maybe there’s a lot of us out there, unable to fathom, still raptured with joy and content. It complements my desire to love all that much more.

So maybe masturbation and porn still happen, not proud of that. I succumb to physical and natural things, but at the same time, I will not judge myself for that. I am held to the same standard as every other being. And if I am not to judge others, which I don’t, then also that same favor is reserved for myself. I have to be able to forgive myself. That’s the biggest chore, and truth be told, socially and otherwise, most people will tell you, I’m a good man. It’s not their words that matter though, it’s the impression.

Others see a good man, I see a guilty one. I see lost people, angry people, hateful, and I can forgive them. I can pray for them and love them just the same. But I cannot for myself? Since when do I bear a burden when I have such allowance for others? Perhaps that is the trade. But it doesn’t matter, I can forgive myself, it doesn’t mean I’m enabling or encouraging. I know my goals, values, beliefs, but if I break them, I can pray, I can refocus or make different decisions next time. I can be guilty, but what good does it do to never let an ounce of guilt go.

My girlfriend spoke tonight of being free from bondage. That’s my guilt. Whether it’s deserved or not, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m new. I’m the same. I love all, they don’t have to believe what I believe. I am a good man. But I am not a better man than any other. I am a servant, even if not evangelical in style. I serve in my own way, I think that is respectable.

She said she did an exercise. And I’m not going to apologize to any of my friends of different beliefs for this, I don’t think less of you, I can not stress that enough. She was told to think and reflect on how would our Savior introduce us to our Father. I’m in tears as I am writing this with a million things clashing in my mind that I can’t even begin to record. The words loyal, strong and caring, if a bit distracted. I guess that’s me.

I am in a place, I don’t think I really ever considered I’d be in. No thoughts of harm. No impending what ifs or strong desire to control and micromanage every bit. Even with my recent health issues, I can lay still at the end of the day and marvel at the life I have, will continue to have. At the gifts I have been given, and a woman who I hope to never stop sharing them with. And that, ladies and gentlemen, can be the power of Faith, but understanding as a man. The two are not mutually exclusive, and I think that’s a great thing.