My gut hurts. A lot.
But no one really cares.
Could I really disappear and no one would notice?
I guess after tonight I have an answer.
I’ll try it again next week and see if, again, no one says anything.
Struggles
How do people keep each other accountable?
I look around and hardly see any accounting done where the fellowships are most tightly-knit, but I don’t see people sharing struggles with each other, or keeping each other accountable. Maybe it’s more of a personal, one-on-one thing, but if that’s true, then I’m wondering where are my one-on-one’s.
There’s no one who keeps me accountable.
Maybe it’s just because I’m quiet and “pious”, according to a Facebook quiz. I’m also thinking that it’s because since I’ve grown up in the church, people around me who know this fact think that I’m supposed to “know better”. In other words, they don’t feel they need to remind me that I’m drowning in a lifestyle of sin.
But this isn’t true; I’m sinning right in front of brothers and sisters, and they haven’t said a word.
It makes me feel horrible, but I don’t know what to do, if they, of all people, aren’t saying anything.
Productivity
I wonder if I can channel my passions into doing something productive.
A Spiritual Mentor
Or guidance of any sort. Honest guidance, not just the dull “nod and smile” type of guidance that someone who doesn’t actually care would give. I want to so much become a better Christian, but no matter how fast I try walk on the path, I’m bound to go astray.
In college, there are brothers and sisters all around me to nudge me in the right direction, to give a word of advice when I need it, to be able to make time for and spend time with me. There are older folks, who have already graduated. They stay behind at our fellowship and it appears that they’re there because they do care about the people there. If they were only going to our fellowship out of obligation, they would have bounced once they graduated. There are older students who won’t hesitate to tell me about classes and studying strategies. They aren’t afraid for their wallets to take me out to lunch, just to talk to me. If they were, they would want to split the bill. There are students my age who were freshmen, just like me. Even though they’re my age physically (well, I’m a little younger than most of them), I can’t help but look up to some of them for their spiritual lives. We can have intelligent discussions about anything, even religious matters, and I hardly feel compromised.
But here, back home, it’s as if suddenly, no one has time for anything (except Wade, who’s admirably made more than an effort to invite people to do things and fellowship). The people who do have time, on the other hand, make an effort to avoid giving me advice at all, or they give me sarcastic, nasty remarks about my issues (which has somewhat driven me to become less trustful with my personal life [if that's even possible]). I haven’t had one good “talk” (talk is in quotes because I’m of course referencing to a conversation that leaves me thinking critically) with anyone since I’ve been back from college. Arguably, I might have had a few good internet “talks,” but now I’m starting to doubt the legitimacy or earnestness of those talks. Well, I guess I’m coming on a little hard on my home people, but they definitely don’t give me much to look up to. I’d see more of their personalities if I had deeper conversations with them, but I have trouble developing that kind of a relationship.
I (internet) talked with someone a few days ago and he said that pride is what’s keeping me from sharing my burdens with the people around me, but I’m sure it’s not only that kind of pride. I think that I’ve got some kind of a mix of a superiority and inferiority complex that has made me think that I’m fine where I was. Some type of thinking that on a subconscious level, I was superior to everyone around me; that no one was a greater Christian than I, a soaring eagle above the mountain that is spirituality. Obviously, that’s extremely prideful, and pompous, and arrogant (though the way I put it is a little more blunt than how it appeared in my though processes at the time). But now, as I think about the level right below (or above) that arrogance, I see this lack of sharing any of my personal life (or personality) with anyone. I see lies that I’m spouting to those, who at the very least, feign interest in my matters, slip out of my mouth over and over again to avoid causing them extra stress or damaging my reputation. I see that I’m more horrible and sinful than I feel that anyone else could possibly be: a manipulative, lying snake who (most people would agree, if they saw who I really was) deserves to have his head crushed. A snake whose whole life is based on many huge, ongoing deceptions.
Underlying all of this, I suppose, is fear. Why am I afraid of sharing who I am with people? Many reasons: the tarnish of my image, the chip in the persona that I’ve worked so hard (unintentionally, though) to build, the excommunication and stigma thereof that comes with varying degrees of my sinful life, and the list goes on and on. What scares me about being scared is that I’m also afraid of recovering. It makes me wonder if I’m a true Christian or not, because the Holy Spirit should be guiding me away from such things, but I haven’t budged and am afraid to budge. Then again, I hate change, so maybe that’s just it. Hopefully.
Now, would a mentor help solve all my problems? I don’t think so. But it would definitely help to have someone available who’s committed to guiding me to give me a good “talk” once in a while…
Someone to trust.
Sigh
“And even when your hope is gone,
Move along, move along just to make it through.”
I wish someone’s out there who would hold me and love me, and I could love that someone back with all my heart.
But that won’t happen. Not in my lifetime, anyways.
Dying in silence.
Unwind
I can’t talk to a blog, this is just here for my rawest feelings, but putting stuff here won’t solve any problems for me.
Except everyone here just assumes everything’s all right all the time, when nothing is ever right at any time. There’s just no one here that I can open my feelings to, no one to whom I could express.
Those who I might share something, or that you’d expect me to, we’re just living in our own perfect worlds, without more than shallow chit chat. Those who might have some wise words of advice to give me, we only meet for fleeting moments on a single day of the week, and we’re never on a one-on-one, so I never feel like I can trust them.
I can remember my last one-on-one with someone, and all the ones before. Not one of them happened here.
