Ugly Days

It occurred to me that some people find my vulnerability problematic. They don't like that I talk openly about real problems...I mean, real life. They are uncomfortable with the ugliness of the journey. I started doubting the significance of my writings-hence, why I haven't blogged in a while- but my daunting thoughts have been clogging my arteries, disturbing my peace, and preventing sleep. I will continue to write, and I insist on only writing truths, as I have always done.

Today, I feel unworthy. My mood is so indeterminable it almost feels indifferent. But it's not indifference. I know indifference. I don't do indifference. I'm feeling frustrated, disappointed in myself for abandoning my sobriety, and uncertain of what the future holds for my careers, my relationships, and my spiritual growth. There are good days and there are bad days...today's an ugly day. My sleeping pills have run out, I've given up relying on alcohol for companionship, and it's been wet and rainy since early this morning. I am tired (I think), alone by circumstance, annoyed, anxious, and angry. I sang in church this morning, completely disconnected from God and the worship experience. Unworthy, is what I felt--unworthy of the platform I've been given, of the gifts that are currently more of a burden than a blessing. Disconnected and unworthy. Ungrateful.

I'm a sitting in the mental and emotional mess that I've created. The toxicity of this emotional defecation is silently killing me, and "sitting still and knowing that God is God" is becoming so common, these days, it's agonizing. I'm wondering what the fruit of my patience looks like. How much longer do I have to "sit still" in this disconnected space, isolated and exiled? What did I do so wrong--or what am I doing so wrong--to deserve and accept this? What will life be like when these ugly days start to be outnumbered? So many questions, not enough answers, and I'm killing myself trying to write something of substance in this post. I give up, today. The ugly wins and only 4 people read this damn thing anyway, so.

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