This is me, the unedited me, the one that’s scared, ashamed, impulsive, addictive, untrustworthy, child-like, unreliable, weak, without courage, without integrity, stuck on things that harm others and myself, broken and unlovable.
This is me, a self punisher, a cheat, a porn addict, a liar, a pervert, vain, a voyeur, selfish, undeserving, unsuccessful, a bad friend, a bad husband, a pleaser, unaware, arrogant, angered at myself.
Losing God, losing my dad, my family, my friends and myself.
I have a deep hole in me, an emptiness in me because I can’t seem to love myself. So why is this important?
Perhaps this is what my old teacher was feeling before he decided to leave, perhaps he thought that the only part of him he believed or wanted to believe was good about him, that he clung to, was just a mask, just another fantasy to get through the days and when gone, the cold sense of not being worth anything in substance was just too hard to bear.
My dad used to read this blog, my dad I guess loved me in his way, he died and that feeling I had that when all else failed – that he would be there like my safety net, died with him.
I watched him die, I did everything I could to help him transition and not feel afraid. I remember telling him as he lay straining to breathe that he was a good man, that it might be scary now but that I really believe he will be ok. I told him that if he prays to God, as I know he did, he wont be as afraid, because I really believe we all go on and he will find happiness in the next life.
For months after he passed, I was still scared for him, I hoped he’d be OK and my wife had a dream that he told her specifically to tell me not to worry, that he is well and having adventures. I miss him. I also miss the feeling I had as a child that he loved me. The truth is, I lost that feeling a while back and I don’t know how to find it again.
I sincerely thought of myself as someone with the capacity to love, to give, to be thankful, to be sorry when I felt I had wronged another, to be a good friend, a good husband, a man that had something valuable to offer others from his heart. Am I this man, God?
I havent been, at least not very much – this I know.
Did you ever connect with me? Was I just deluded since a child when I prayed to you?
If you, the odd person who reads this have ever been under some illusion that I am something other than this, I wish I could give to you my sincere apologies. Granted that I can’t, I hope you forgive me for leading you into any impression of me that was and is untrue.
I strived for becoming someone others could be proud of, I strived to be the man God intended, I strived to be of worth, to be able to see the worth in me that doesn’t actually need to strive, to be kind, loving to others, even loving to me. I have at best struggled to do that because I mostly give myself over to fear.
I heard a Beatles song tonight, Nowhere man, I also sang it. The words really hit me:
… he’s as blind as he can be, just sees what he want to see, isn’t he a bit like you and me. Nowhere man please listen you don’t know what you’re missing, nowhere man, the world is at your command…
I cannot say I am a man who wasn’t given opportunities, who wasn’t given love, I just wouldn’t accept what was handed to me on a platter, I’d prefer to be a victim of my own making, a nowhere man. Can I even contemplate the truth of that? I don’t know.
God here I am, your son, refusing to use the legs you gave me to stand. I only reach out to you, reach out to others but I feel I should reach into me and get up. I think I’m beginning to realise you want me to stand.
Its time I start.