Other than my work, and my malfunction, nothing has been happening. No new stories to tell. There have been things I could have pursued. But I've had no interest.
It's all the same now. Going, coming, staying, sitting, walking, sleeping. All the same to me. The torturous thoughts in my head are still gone, thank goodness. I can't write anything when it's there. I asked my brother about it last night. He said he gets those too. He's had them since he was a child. But his medication has kept it under control lately. My brother lives with our mother. He has had severe bi-polar depression and maybe schizophrenia since his youth. In his early twenties he was a lot better off. He could take care of himself. But since then he has not been well, which is heartbreaking. He is a beautiful person, the most Christlike person I know.
Since I have let go of the guilt and the struggle things have been easier. Maybe this is what I need anyway. Maybe I've just needed to stop everything and let myself grieve. I was so afraid the depression would take over that I barely let myself mourn my losses of the last 3 years. I don't have to worry about that anymore.
This may still be a good thing. I have given up control. The Buddhists don't believe we have selves. When we give up that fixation then our problems go away too. A not unfamiliar idea. She who loses her life will take it up again? I don't care what happens to my life anymore. This may be a good thing.
So I lay my broken heart at the foot of the Savior's cross. Let Him do with it what He will. I can not save myself. I am not good enough, not strong enough, not enough. I have run out of ideas, my strength is spent, my pride broken, my plans lay fallow, even my faith has faltered. I am nothing. But if God still loves me, then what's left of me is for Him; heal me or damn me, I offer no resistance. My life, my will is His.*
Even in this state, that is not easy to say. I have clung greedily to my life--determined to squeeze everything out of it. Haughtily assured that I knew what was right for me. I have kept the commandments but set my heart on the world. I selfishly pursued my own goals and ran from the people who needed me. Now my choice is to sink into mad isolation or put my life into God's hands.
*The dishonor of returning a broken gift is not lost on me: "Here God, I'm good for nothing, but I'm all yours!"