The Non-Kinetic Gryoscope is Dead

Where do I begin? Where do I end? I do not know. I am not sure I care anymore. Does it matter, does anything matter? Does life matter? Does death matter? Do I matter? I think the answer is no I do not. If the previous postulate is correct, and I do not matter, what is the point of any of this? Is there a point? Is there anything with a tangible value?

I am a frightened person. I am fearful of death, and I am fearful of life it seems. During the last two weeks, my elderly mother has been ill and fearful about her health. She has had to different surgical proceedures during this time period and we are waiting for news on the results of these various tests on the tissues the surgeons have removed. This two week period has accentuated my fears about death, and I have been emotionally in chaos. One minute I am weeping, the next minute I am angry, the next moment I am nearly asleep. Very little time is spent in happiness and very little time in life feels like joy.

I am sick of feeling this way. I despise these feelings and emotions. Why is it that I am so burdened by the fears, the guilts, and regrets? When do I get to live? I truly hate these feelings and I hate myself for having them. I do not know, but I sometimes wonder if I am clinically depressed? But then again, I have always been like this my whole life.

I envy those people who are more carefree in their spirit and soul. I wish I were like them. I wish I was not who I am. I am not sure if I can break free of the fear and the sorrow. I am afraid I will be caught in this whirlpool of frightening emotions forever, or until I die. What if there is nothing more for me? I see so many people who can find joy, can find peace, can find fun in life. Why cannot I have even a small sliver of that pie of happiness?

Is there something wrong with me? Is there something I have done to be burdened by this yoke of fear? Even when my loved ones are near me, I often feel so utterly alone that tears will pour from my eyes like a heavy rain and run into my beard. I have heard many women say that a good, long cry will make them feel so much better. I can report that a long cry does not make me feel any better.

I need to find a way to stop or change these feelings. I must. I do not know how to make the changes, however. I do not think I can stay as I am much longer. I hate myself, I had my fears, I hate my saddness, I hate the tension I feel, I hate not knowing how to live. I am afraid of death, I am afraid of life. I worry desperately about those I love. Yet, I worry about the mundane as well. For instance, I worry about the cup of coffee I have, I worry about not being a good father, I worry about eating the small handful of french fries I ate at dinner, I worry about the two bowls of pipe tobacco I have been allowing myself a day, I worry about not exercising enough, I worry about not going to confession enough, I worry about what the priest will think when I confess how horrible I am. I worry about excercising and working too much, I worry about neglecting my familiy, I worry about being too close to them so as to be emotionally smothering. I worry when I drive my car to work, I worry when it snows. I worry when it rains. I fear the impending death of each and every person I know. I fear being alone. I fear being in crowds. I am afraid of fear.

I must somehow change. I wish I was not who I am. I do not know how to change or if I can.

Tommorrow is also a day of sorrow and pain. Tommorrow is the 11th Anniversary of death of my niece due to suicide. She consumed a bottle of my sister's (her mother's) hypertension medication 11 years ago this evening. Even with pumping of her stomach, she could not survive and died the 20th of December, 1994. She was only 17 at that time. She would now be 28 if she had lived. She was a wonderful, creative, intelligent girl. I miss her greatly. Yet I am also angry with her. It makes little sense. I make little sense.

Konrad

The Spiral to No Where and Nothing

Comfort in life, or comfort in practicing life is often very elusive and ephemeral. Day-to-day living can stretch on for a time without deviation or mishap, yet always lurking under the tranquil surface is the hurt of despair and destruction waiting, waiting oh so calmly and patiently for a brief moment of opportunity to rear out of the surface and impose its chaos and pain.

So goes it in my circle at this time. My mother is undergoing tests for the possible return of her cancer. In the intervening six or so years since her last surgery for the damnable cancer, all of her checkups and tests have returned with a pleasantly negative outcome. As of this moment she is preparing for an abdominal CatScan that will be administered tonight. These tests are being requested due to the recurrence of infections in the tissue where the cancer was located.

All my fear and all my longing well up in my throat and in my mind. I feel as if to run and hide and scream and sob would be what my body wishes I would do, yet it would not help me to have an outcome that is good. My mind and soul feel in chaos and turmoil.

Although I strive to pray using my rosary every day, during this episode of grave fear and sadness, I more ferveretly cling to that routine for my spirit. Sometimes I have doubt of its value, for I cannot say with any proof or knowledge that there is a God, although for me I hope there is, and I feel comforted by the hope that there is God. Yet, in times such as these, when the fears of death and fears for loved ones wells up with a vengeance I need to seek some form of comfort, some method to try to relieve the pain and the agony of the rampant fear.

In my life, the meticulous detail and the consistent rhythm of my prayer when using the rosary is especially helpful to me. Many others adopt other forms of prayer or action, and those are blessings for them. Yet,for my own life, the rosary as the cornerstone of my efforts to talk with God is helpful. When I meet friends and associates who are not Roman Catholic, but of another faith or of no faith, they often find my devotion to prayer through the rosary odd to understand. I can empathize with them, for rituals and actions related to religious beliefs can manifest in ways that are difficult to align with day-to-day logic and life. This misalignment is both a blessing and a hindrance to religious faith. By being something outside of typical society, the religious thoughts or patterns can give people a method to journey to areas of thought not always fitting with the logic of modern life, it can be a blessing, yet far too many people either use religion or have beliefs loosely based upon religion that give them (in their mind, anyhow) the "right" to be horribly mean and nasty and even harmful to anyone who does not share in their belief. I cannot emphasize how horribly wrong this path is.

And, this unappealing zealousness that some people acquire for their mean-hearted "faith" is a true downfall for honest, sincere spiritual and religious thought because so many people equate these bigoted pseudoreligous folk with the whole of religion. In my opinion, it would be better for these people who see "faith" as justification for hate of others (examples abound and can include a) many extreme fundamentalists who suggest everyone other than members of their own faith will "burn" for eternity, b) Hitler and all of his followers who felt justified in their massacre of people of a faith different than their own, c) the murderer of Madeline O'Hare, the famous promoter of ideas of Atheism, for he felt it was his "duty" to kill her for her lack of faith, and d) Muslim EXTREMISTS who use their faith as justification for killing and bombing) to be separated from society so that others may live in greater harmony. I know this cannot occur, but if there were someway for those who do long have hate thought to be separated from those that do, life would be far, far better.

Yet, for me the gentle contemplation and the guidance I feel from using the rosary in prayer is helpful to me. In this time of great fear, please keep my dear mother in your prayers and hope that her cancer has not returned, or if it has returned, hope that it is easily treatable without need for invasive surgery or chemotherapy.

Konrad