The high shelf

English: shelf Ελληνικά: ράφι

High shelves are handy for placing things that should not be misplaced, but also need to be out of mind until you can pay them attention.

Yesterday’s heavy post came out of my session with Doc. Though I have not changed the fundamental thoughts I conveyed yesterday, I do feel better today.

I am exhausted though, as I was not able to fall asleep last night until well after 2 a.m. After I wrote that post I started having a quick succession of thoughts of all the reasons God should not care for me. Not a good way to try to go to sleep.

To top things off, I received an email last night from a friend (supposedly a friend … ) suggesting that I should not be a writer because it’s a lonely life, I am too sensitive, etc. I don’t remember the specifics of the rest, just that he gave a litany of reasons as why I should not write.

Today I’ve set all of that aside, my thoughts about God’s view of me, and my friend’s opinion of me continuing to write. It’s all on a high shelf, and I’ll deal with it later. Today I need to rest, and get ready for more therapy tomorrow. Oh, yeah, and I have a stupid day job for which I have a deadline on a big project project on Friday. So all the emotional crap gets shelved until the weekend.

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

No God

Today, for the first time in my life, I admitted that I believe that God does not like me, does not care for me. It’s not something that is easy to admit, but it is true that this is how I feel, what I believe. I want the truth to be otherwise.

An hour passed since I wrote the paragraph above.

The realization that there is not one thing I would do in the world for my mother and stepfather is painful for me. I’ve tried and tried to search in my heart for feeling for them, but there is none to be had. I come up empty every single time.

When friends shake their heads at this fact I want shake them back and yell, “Don’t you know that I wish I could find a shred of feeling for them?! It is painful to feel nothing for one’s parents. The guilt is immense.”

If you blow out a candle enough times you eventually will be unable to relight it. You can only relight it so many times. My parents extinguished the light long ago. I’ve tried to relight it for them to no avail.

When the light was extinguished for my parents it seems that God blew out my candle as well.