Posted on January 13, 2019
Frustration, Anger, Rage, Heartache
I’ve often claimed this “Journey” affected several areas of my life. One of which is psychological. Today, I want to touch on the psychological. I feel I need to. I need to get the stain off my heart.
I just feeling dealing with one of the aspects of this disorder I don’t write about. Yes, as frank as I am, there are lines I do not cross.
In the process of finishing dealing with me, I found myself facing a wall of photos taken of my nuclear family. I was filled with rage. I wanted to rip all the photographs of me from a few years ago off the wall. I looked so happy, so capable. This is not the “me” I see today.
Today, I see a man that is happy to be able to fix his own pot of coffee, serve himself a cup and drink it without spilling or breaking anything. That is a great accomplishment in my life at the moment. Self-dependence is slipping as are my legs. I sometimes think that it is hard being me. But, being me is what I must do.
There is darkness in me that I turn to my spirituality to lighten. My dependence on the Word doesn’t mean there is no darkness in me. There is much. The more the darkness grows, the more I attempt to face the light and the more important the light becomes.
There is considerable impact on what constitutes “Me” that has been killed, mashed and then reformed. I’m beginning to think of myself as someone who has mentally died and then been reborn. Similar to the spiritual rebirth that many Christians demand of themselves. However, this is considerable more tangible. The person I was a scant three years ago is gone, forever. As time goes on and the disease marches on, I will continually have to form, destroy and reform who “Me” is. The transformation is becoming a continuous process so that “Me” is an ever-changing definition of oneself. It is exhausting.
I feel the need to stop trying to figure out who I am, but I am afraid that I forget who I am in the process. I can see that is extremely easy to do. I sometimes wish for a vacation from myself. I think that is why I forget that walking without assistance is an impossibility and I fall.
In Christ, as He carries me,
Jay C. Theriot