"feeling down and out"

I'm feeling and thinking a couple things right now. May I go into them? They have to do with relationships.

A word from my last post sticks out in my mind like a jutting nail you have to walk around everyday in your house. The word is "isolation". The reason this is sticking out in my mind is that I have been reviewing my past to explain my present state. Yes, I should be avoiding the parts of my house that are being renovated, thus making it easier to avoid any nail-in-foot incidents, however, I am battling some very negative feelings lately. This needs to be done. It occupies my thoughts, and I need closure, or at least in the process gain some enlightenment and wisdom. And chocolate. mmm...

Let's begin the detective work:

I live with my family. I am the eldest of three siblings, over whom I have about five and-a-half years of experience, which made me for many years feel unable to connect with my brother and sister. I adopted a snobby, authoritative, and cynical attitude towards them. The story is different now, but that is a recent update. Growing up I didn't have the big sibling that I wanted. In fact, as I think about it, I didn't even have a hero or role model. I did have people I greatly respected, like my dad, grandfather, and distant cousins. It was on these people that I would do my projects for school about 'who we look up to'. I remember not emulating anyone, just picking and choosing this and that.
I didn't have any close relatives to confide in. No cousins to bond to, no aunt or uncle to look forward to visiting regularly. My family here in Vancouver, bless 'em, are good people. The problem is, my siblings and I have always been black sheep. While my cousins fulfilled the Italian personae, we quickly sank into the background. We didn't connect with anyone, and groaned despairingly when it was time to visit them.
My dad's side of the family is the complete polar opposite: we have much in common with them as far as values, personality traits, and hobbies go. Love is openly expressed, and it often seems like there is an abundance of support and caring. The problem was and is that everyone lives in Quebec or Ontario. My parents (for what I theorize to be very saddening and frustrating reasons) are not adament about visiting more than once every two or three years. And when we do visit, we are welcomed with open arms, but in reality, my siblings and I are the black sheep again, segregated by distance and disfamiliarity. I blame my parents.

I changed elementary schools several times, each time leaving behind a best friend and trying to find a new one. I often changed crushes more than I did grades for most of my life (I can remember every girl from kindergarten until now...9 relatively major crushes in all).

Going back very far, my father has worked for Telus since I was in diapers, and has progressed from the I.T. guy who fixes phone wires, to a lead regional director, all in a span of 20 years. He makes good money now, but is always busy. It used to not be the case, but I don't hold any actual memories of a time before the busyness. I just know the stories that I've told myself since I could self-talk of when we used to go down to Lonsdale Quai together. And dress alike. And go swimming at Bonsor. My dad still makes the effort today to take my family on outings, but truth be told, someone is almost always missing, or someone's heart is not in it. And my dad is thinking about work the whole time. You can see it in him. I admire his love and devotion to us, despite this.

Looking at my post, which I've decided not to correct or fancy-word, I am seeing a funneling: relatives> family> best friends and crushes> my dad... I guess I have to end up here: myself. I haven't had a very good relationship with me throughout my life; its been marked with intense self-absorbedness, selfishness, depression, impulsivity, greediness, self-consciousness... and self-hate. I always wanted to escape myself. I wanted to be anyone but me. What else is there to say?

Loneliness. I see all these factors contributing to my current situation: preferred isolation. Chosen introversion. I want to be alone. I want to avoid social gatherings. I want have days of being indoors, away from others. I dream of running away forever from all things. Recent illness has provided me that "luxury" in a diluted way.

This is getting deep and mopey, but I am determined to press on, because this needs to be done.

Having met my Maker has turned everything upside down. I am being crafted anew, and having my old skin scorched off my body. It sucks in a way. It rocks in more ways. But at this time, I am seeing an old self protruding again, trying to cut me away from relationships. Because that is what I am used to. It is what I've been trained to do all my life. And now I'm being asked to be involved and committed, and I have no sense of what those mean. I am completely undevoted and whimsical about the relationships I form. I am passive, perhaps because I expect them to disappear in the same way as in the past. Am I wrong? We all have to let go, in little, then big ways eventually. That is the ugly, sobering truth. And so I am in defense mode at all times...

And yet I have a heart for people, and God is stirring compassion and loyalty for Him and others. But there is so much fat in my heart's arteries from all this previous build-up that the warmth in my blood coming from my heart barely makes it out.

Love is... wonderful. And I feel like it's muted and insulated and wrapped in plastic so that I cannot feel it. What is this... a joke? I lost hope before I was born; I used to live without hope for experiencing life in its raw state by loving sincerely and intensely.

God is that new hope.

I feel like I am having surgery performed without anaesthetic. He is extracting a malignant tumor and the tissues it is connected to. He is tearing it off, and plans on sealing the wound with fire. And now a revelation comes to me as I type this (and deep pangs of... feeling. Man, I'm even breathing weird). This is all because I asked Him to. I remember now, like deja-vu that I asked Him to make me a more loving, real person: someone who doesn't shy away and isolate themselves. Someone who doesn't deal with others passively. Because I suck at relationships, and loved ones will testify to my failing. Wow, I asked Him for this.

I feel as if the Dentist is pulling this tooth that wasn't even loose to begin with, and that in the meantime I'm also being attacked. I feel like my faith is being assaulted, so that the dark can win back its stronghold - all the progress it's made. I definitely feel emotionally attacked: I feel like crap right now. In every true sense of the word. I feel physically attacked: I am tired and weak. I feel like giving up. I feel like I'll never survive this semester. Like I'm losing friends. Like I'm failing God constantly. Like my family and friends will never come under His Wing. Like maybe I'm just being Christian because it has made me feel better. Like I've been psychologically manipulated to believe Christian doctrines, and in reality it'll turn out just to be one of the many lifestyle choices out there, equal in the eyes of the purposeless abyss. I just feel like... collapsing.

Look at my post. This is my life! Always veering downwards, always expecting and anticipating the worst, and surrendering to it! God, its pathetic!

Praise and shouts to God that I have Him working in my life to fix this! Fixing my lies that I repeat over and over! Fixing the despairing comfort I feel in loneliness! Fixing my apathy and passivity! Fixing my hurt and history! I am being freed! Dance a jig for Jesus, woot!

Yes, I will end this on a positive note the best I can, because I can.. because.. I have God. What else do I need? I AM nothing without Him, but I've got Him, so how rock-awesome is that? Geez, I feel like I've just written a book (and I practically have, my apologies if there is a reader!) and now I'm at the conclusion of the first of a series, and it all gets better. I will be struck down, and yet remain upright. Because I have God. So poo to you, darkness, who tries to keep me from reading my Bible, worshipping God, talking to God, and bearing His signature. I will keep doing those things, as I have been through this time, and I know I will see the light eventually. Right on!

So yeah, that's my post, with some unexpected self-discovery along the way. This was completely unintentional. Anyways, Amen!

I'm hungry, and that shepard's pie in the oven is smellin' good, hooo-wEE!

The soft kill, the soft walls

Some classic mottos have been sticking out in my mind as I plod along in typical West Coast fashion on the skytrain, listening to my Ipod, typing a text message on my cell, considering a new topic for a long-overdue blog, observing other Coasters in uniform faded jeans and sneakers. Everyone is familiar with these sayings:

"United we stand. Divided we fall." and "Divide and conquer."

Until Christmas, I was opposed to owning an Ipod, at least at this time in my life. Who needs another distraction? But then I got one, and realized how much I wanted it, and Freud giggled sinisterly in his grave.

White earbuds are everywhere, cellphones are fused to our ears, keyboards are stitched to our fingers, and screens, one of the first attacks, are melded to our eyes. All this a race for the prize. The prize being us, our minds, our choices, and first and foremost, our spirits - our souls.

When people are in an army, whether its a militia or the national guard, they stand and fight together. They fight for a common cause, they fight for shared values, they fight against a collective foe, and they fight under one leader. In the most abominable of battles, with brothers falling to the right and left, there is still that common goal, that common instinct. Fire storms of exploding bombs can confuse and scare, but clarity comes with the morning. And they can always regroup and retreat together.
Unity. Support.

What a formidable and impressive plan. What brilliance that designed the strategic attack in which children are scattered amongst many trenches. Our generations have been flanked, guerrilla warfare style. Our troops have been infiltrated, the enemy firing flash grenades to the tune of Hutier, and now we are dispersed and blinded. We have been cut down and cut apart. We are hiding, our minds and bodies are trembling and we have become completely disoriented. We clench our weapons, oftentimes peaking out onto the field and firing several shots at any smoky silhouettes that we see, and mistakenly strike down our own kin. We live in isolation and fear and depression. We have no memory, just the faintest recall of the family - the band of brothers - that we once felt bound to. How much easier is the assault when a battalion is spread out and separated. To conquer us becomes as simple as swiping ones arm across a tabletop and knocking figurines to the floor.
Division. Confusion.

I believe this is where we are: divided and confused. We have different values, different goals, we have become insulated by comfort into our own little lonely worlds. Convenience, independence, and "freewill" are the lullabies which have been whispered into our ears, and the routes we take to the wrong exit. In our cold beds we chant the miserable anthem: "This is what I want. This is what I like. I know what I need." And we cry like neglected babies in their splintering cribs. Meanwhile our Father cries for us as He tries to lift us up.
Isolation. Defeat.

The soft kill with its soothing voice,
the soft walls of gentle cloth,
the deep, deep grave.

-the a.m. pilot

Sir, I say to you Good Luck and Good Day

Random thought that just came to me, but has pursued me a bit recently: "Good luck on that midterm!"... "Have a great day!"... "Hope it goes well!".... "Have a good one!"
These are all seem like passive statements to me. What, are we hoping the gods of Luck and Goodness will bless our day's happenings?

I've been struggling to come up with ways of saying to my friends that I want them to do well, try hard, study thoroughly, feel confident, and not let stress get the jump on them. I would say all these things, but text messages can be limiting. "Good luck" just seems to fit ever so easily. But luck comes across as this god, as I mentioned, that either is with you or not. Luck seems especially prevalent in our society, as well as the Asian society.

I guess man will always put their hopes in empty, weak things when they don't have God, whether its luck or themselves.

How about: "This test doesn't matter as much as your eternal salvation! But I hope you try hard anyways!"
Or maybe: "You may not know all the answers on the test, but God does, so serves you right for ignoring Him."
Or even: "Jesus is my study buddy, and I'm doing fine!"

Unrelatedly, where do Christians get such a bad reputation as being annoying and snotty anyways?

Glimpses

The opening post.
The opening post?
The opening post!
After resigning from my previous blog an age and a half ago, here I am again. To link to my old blog of 2+ years, click nowhere because it remains a secret - shhhh... I had no intention of coming back to the blog scene, but depriving people of my geniousness seemed evily.

In truth though, it is tough to stay in contact, especially if one desires the ever-increasingly elusivity of in-person contact. Blogs can be good for catching glimpses of what state someone's mind is in, but I assume that it works best when both people are vulnerably casting themselves out. Its only fair, right? I can't just consume others most closely-held desirings and innermost intricacies without exchanging for some of my... personal stuff. Thats a rule, it would seem, for both cyber and non-cyber relationships.

So here I am. Naked. For all to see. Take a good look. No flash photography (or Flash Player).

Hmm... something doesn't sound quite right about that.

What is so awesome about this post, among other things, is that I don't have to accomplish anything, send any sort of message, come to any conclusive conclusions, or even ask brow-furrowing questions that pursue the minds of readers for days. Nope.

Nope indeed, this is the first post. Nothing need be addressed or considered. There is no pressure to perform, and no desire on my part to do so. However, I am reminded that people tend to remember the first and last track of an album, the first and last chapters of a book, and... oh no. I guess I've blown it. I forgot to consider the First Impression. Bollocks! Better say something smrt and fast!

Erm... Nevermind, but I promise there will be less meandering and more feelings and contemplation-ing in my next post.

In the meantime, enjoy this fine Ben and Vesper song, "Especially We": http://www.myspace.com/benandvesper
"Pseudonyms are fine things, fine things, for those who like to use them. What are you, from Oakland?"