What I completely do not understand about myself is why, when I know that I am better off as a hermit, do I find myself doing non-hermit things? Add to that is my confusion over my utter inability to be social. I know I am a wall flower. I know that wall flowers wilt under social pressure. And they break when out about in the social melee. Still, I tried not to be a wall flower. Stupid, silly me. I repeat...stupid, silly me.
Yes, I am having a bad day. A part of me wilts at just those words. What else is new, Myrtle? I am tired, because I worked too hard in the yard--though the results are impressive and bolstering. I am frustrated, because my laptop replacement of the replacement laptop crashed when I first started trying to load my software on it. And I am struggling, because I am without the twice weekly support I have been getting to navigate the murky, raging waters of the Pandora's box that has been opened. The first week was hard. This one exponentially more so.
Today is the day I would normally be with her. Today is the day I would not be alone with the things of my past and the things in my head and the fears of both. And the pit bull. That wretched pit bull.
Only, I was. And the day was bad, colossally bad. So disappointed was I that for the third time the firewood person failed to show up or even call about not showing up. Deeply disappointed because I know that I have been struggling more and more, finding it difficult to shake off the volunteering fiasco and recover from the night terrors that remain, and fires calm and soothe me so.
So, I wail on my Facebook status. Truth be told, all day I did, with each successful Dell frustration...being disconnected three times, spending more than two hours on hold, and the ludicrous announcement that the solution would be to send a technician to my home to repair the replacement computer that had a problem from the moment I started it up. Replacement computers should not require repair the first day of ownership.
I express my weariness with the day and with myself. And a comment is made that comes across as Law to a person already crushed with her sin. An immediate second of the comment felt like a second lash across my rather wounded and weary body. I tried to speak about how weary and fragile I am from this day, even mentioning the lack of access to my help, to ward off any further commentary on my faith failure, and another comment comes straight away, harsher than the first, followed by the close second once more.
Neither one was spoken in unkindness. But I was shocked after trying to say that I was not up for admonishment, that I was struggling, to have my cry fall on deaf ears. To have my cry for help, really, go unheeded.
I don't belong out in the world. I do not. I have said that repeatedly here, so I have only myself to blame for the hurt that is washing over me, drowning me at the moment.
Really, I suppose, the problem is that I want Facebook to be something it is not. It is not a support system. Those people on my friends list are not really friends or family. They are not a cadre of gentle folk who will not weary of my struggle. I do not have a wall of cheerleaders urging me on in the war raging for my life, for my soul. They are on there to have fun, to joke, to hang out...not to be my support system. Not to stand beside me, swinging his sword at my foe...not...to stand between my foe and me.
I do not agree with the comment that followed with my plea to not fling an arrow my way. It was about that I was forgetting Jesus died for me. I have not forgotten that. Crawling on my knees because I am tired and discouraged and afraid, saying that is where I am, does not mean that I have forgotten that. I mean, the rejoinder could have been a gentle, sweet reminder that Jesus knows all about crawling, bloody and wounded. Instead, what I hear, what I receive is that Myrtle is denying her baptism or despising the Gospel or making Christ's death moot. I am not doing those things. At least not any more than the sinner in me does every single blooming day.
I know this isn't making sense, to be sure. I just was foolish to stand vulnerable in my weakness thinking I might have someone slip an arm around my waist when really I should have known that what I would have is someone pointing out the folly of my weakness.
I really felt pummeled after already having taken a beating. Right now, as I have been ever since those comments flashed upon my screen, I am scared of both how I feel and how weak I am.
I am not the suffering saint. I am not the person who looks up from the ground and praises God for the blood mingling with the dirt and the bruises spreading across her body. I do not lay there exulting in my tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within my heart through the Holy Spirit who was given to me (Romans 5:3-5).
I want to be that child of God. I truly do. That I am not crushes me even more.
Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief!
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6 comments:
I wondered when you disappeared if something similar to what you describe here was the reason you left. I'm sorry that at your time of frustration with Dell, your FB friends didn't offer the encouragement you needed. And I'm particularly sorry for all the times I made a joke about things when I should probably have just shut up and been quietly supportive and cheered you on.
I always am heartened by St. Matthew's quotation from Isaiah 42 in reference to our gracious Lord:
18 "Behold, My Servant whom I have chosen; My Beloved in whom My soul is well-pleased; I will put My Spirit upon Him, And He shall proclaim justice to the Gentiles.
19 "He will not quarrel, nor cry out; Nor will anyone hear His voice in the streets.
20 "A battered reed He will not break off, And a smoldering wick He will not put out, Until He leads justice to victory.
21 "And in His name the Gentiles will hope." (Mat 12:18-21 NAS)
Here is the assurance that our Lord does NOT break off the bruised and battered reed; that He does NOT snuff out the smoldering wick. Your are His beloved, Myrtle, for you have been united to Him -- to His mercy, love and grace -- in your Baptism. When you are weak, He is strong -- for you!
Myrtle, I am sorry to hear about what happened and sorry you felt you had to leave Facebook, but I understand. There was a time I was part of an email list that I came to think of as a support group. A time came that some people on that list made it clear that they did not see the group the same way I did--that I was taking the relationships too seriously and seeing people as my friends who really weren't and who had no desire to be. I looked at the group as a circle of friends but not everyone did. It hurt to discover that and to realize the extent to which I had opened myself up in sharing some of the stuff I did there. Ultimately I had to leave the group. It hurt terribly to do so--I had come to depend on it quite a bit. But I realized that it was no longer a good place for me to be. In the same way you need to do what is best for your own well-being. But I will say that I am glad you were on Facebook for a time because if you had not been I don't know if I would have met you! And I am glad that I met you (in cyberspace, anyway). Maybe some day I will meet you in person as well. I hope so. God bless you, and again, I am sorry for all you have had to endure and that you continue to endure. God grant you His peace and strength.
Cheryl stated it very well, Myrtle. My sentiments exactly.
Thank you, Dolph and Cheryl. I truly appreciate your understanding and your support. Several times I have been criticized for taking Facebook too seriously, but it seems that when it is serious and when it is not is very fluid...and confusing to me. But I truly was shocked and hurt when I tried to redirect the tenor of comments and only received back more. I KNOW the two involved would only speak out of concern, but what was said still hurt. And right now...I just cannot bear more hurt.
I am very grateful for some whom I have met online and wonder if I went back and just took my friends list down very small if that might make a difference. For someone whose been ensconced in her home, having some outside contact has been refreshing and very helpful at times.
However, at times, it has been incredibly hurtful. I am naive, I guess, because I do not expect that from Christians.
And, I suppose, what made yesterday worse is that I tried to put a boundary of sorts...to say, "Not now, please," and my boundary, my need was ignored or it was as if the other people figured they knew what was best for me rather that what I was asking for.
But, again, it comes down to realizing that Facebook is not a support system. I shouldn't see it that way or except anything other that acquaintance type exchanges.
I guess, though, I see other people say they are struggling and receive back virtual hugs and all sorts of comforting words. It makes me feel like I am just not the sort of person who engenders that. Or...maybe...a person is only allotted a set amount of struggling and surely I have blown through that amount in just since the pit bull attack, much less the past year.
All that aside, my confusion and hurt, I am glad that I met you both (and Sue, too) and I am VERY thankful for your kind words here. Truly I am.
Thanks, Myrtle, for your response to our comments. It helps us understand. Really, it does. And I'm sure that I speah for Cheryl also when I say that Sue and I have you in our thoughts and prayers. The holy and Triune God keep you in His care and peace, now and always, for the sake of Christ our Savior, who loves you and gave Himself for you.
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