breaking point
I wrote a couple years back that if everything fell to pieces I only had a couple options. Suicide, abandonment or reclusion. The third essentially meaning I wouldn't try anymore. I wouldn't be able to trust myself, so I'd just kinda hang out, taking no risks.
I had three major criteria determining success during that time. And as a follower of God, I guess I figured I was entitled to success. Failure could only mean I must not be following.
All these things were out of my control, but not completely. I had my influence, but I couldn't obtain success by my own merits alone. I figured I better do all I can, so I took all the biggest risks of my life, simultaniously. Hey, if you're gonna go down, you might as well go down hard. I should mention that the odds were against me, way against me, but I had God on my side, I was called to this, right?
As my life crashed and burned in all three areas, God seemed intentionally absent. It wasn't as if I had only failed and I was disappointed He didn't come through. It was like there were all these things, little things, that could've happened that would've have shown me that He still cares, or is paying attention at least, and He prevented any of them from happening. Thus confirming my lunacy.
Waiting might have to be the worst activity on the planet. Depending on what you're waiting for, 3 minutes could be an eternity, or four years could be nothing. It sure makes you wonder how time works and how you relate to it. Maybe you're not quite as confined within it as you think.
It's funny how you speculate about that hypothetical time, when you will know you have lost. You believe you can't handle it. You will be filled with more despair than you can take. It is the end.
What you fail to realize, though, is that despair is already present. You are already imagining the point of death, and your imagination is always more intense than the real thing. Imagination is limitless.
When it comes, it's rather surreal. It's all you've thought about for so long. How can it finally have arrived?
A funny thing then happens. Life continues on. It seems like the entire world should stop and take a look at whats happening, but instead it carries on like it always did, and it begins to look like it used to, way before the whole ordeal started.
Crossing the line begets freedom. It's almost as if you've cheated death. You know that if that didn't kill you, nothing will. You now know you will never be that low again. You are mentally incapable. You no longer view life with a mindset that will allow it. You have an entirely new perpective, with far less limitations.
The other side is nice. Pain is wonderful thing to have gone through as soon as you can't feel the sting anymore. You're mind is pretty good at forgetting what it felt like. You can remember that is was painful, or that you called it painful, but you can't recreate that pain in your mind.
You are left with lessons learned. And there are millions of them. And as long as you didn't stay a recluse, you can see how much bolder you have become, and how much more of yourself you are. You still often default to trying to protect youself and your image, but you quickly shed that behavior because you see it for what it is. Destructive and restricting. And there's really nothing to be protected from anyway.
Well, I'm not dead, and I didn't abandon my faith, and I'm hardly sitting idle. I'm back to taking risks, more liberally now, figuring why the heck not. What's the worst that can happen?
I had three major criteria determining success during that time. And as a follower of God, I guess I figured I was entitled to success. Failure could only mean I must not be following.
All these things were out of my control, but not completely. I had my influence, but I couldn't obtain success by my own merits alone. I figured I better do all I can, so I took all the biggest risks of my life, simultaniously. Hey, if you're gonna go down, you might as well go down hard. I should mention that the odds were against me, way against me, but I had God on my side, I was called to this, right?
As my life crashed and burned in all three areas, God seemed intentionally absent. It wasn't as if I had only failed and I was disappointed He didn't come through. It was like there were all these things, little things, that could've happened that would've have shown me that He still cares, or is paying attention at least, and He prevented any of them from happening. Thus confirming my lunacy.
Waiting might have to be the worst activity on the planet. Depending on what you're waiting for, 3 minutes could be an eternity, or four years could be nothing. It sure makes you wonder how time works and how you relate to it. Maybe you're not quite as confined within it as you think.
It's funny how you speculate about that hypothetical time, when you will know you have lost. You believe you can't handle it. You will be filled with more despair than you can take. It is the end.
What you fail to realize, though, is that despair is already present. You are already imagining the point of death, and your imagination is always more intense than the real thing. Imagination is limitless.
When it comes, it's rather surreal. It's all you've thought about for so long. How can it finally have arrived?
A funny thing then happens. Life continues on. It seems like the entire world should stop and take a look at whats happening, but instead it carries on like it always did, and it begins to look like it used to, way before the whole ordeal started.
Crossing the line begets freedom. It's almost as if you've cheated death. You know that if that didn't kill you, nothing will. You now know you will never be that low again. You are mentally incapable. You no longer view life with a mindset that will allow it. You have an entirely new perpective, with far less limitations.
The other side is nice. Pain is wonderful thing to have gone through as soon as you can't feel the sting anymore. You're mind is pretty good at forgetting what it felt like. You can remember that is was painful, or that you called it painful, but you can't recreate that pain in your mind.
You are left with lessons learned. And there are millions of them. And as long as you didn't stay a recluse, you can see how much bolder you have become, and how much more of yourself you are. You still often default to trying to protect youself and your image, but you quickly shed that behavior because you see it for what it is. Destructive and restricting. And there's really nothing to be protected from anyway.
Well, I'm not dead, and I didn't abandon my faith, and I'm hardly sitting idle. I'm back to taking risks, more liberally now, figuring why the heck not. What's the worst that can happen?
posted by tim at 5:20 PM
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