I am in a jam. Mentally and physically, stuck in a hard rutted jam. This letter is to you my father, I know you exist, I know you live in my heart, but I feel so far from you. I admit it is all my fault, this rut. I expect the benefit without the mental work that is required. If my mind is a battlefield, then I am a sorry soldier who lacks the ability to rise above the fray.
The simple reason might be laziness, followed closely by fear, which is not anyone’s fault but my own. Of the many ways one can choose to live, I have chosen to be alone.
As in, no romantic relationships whatsoever, no real friendships that require my ongoing participation. I live this way but I am not particularly lonely ninety eight percent of the time. Oh sure, every once in awhile I feel a bit lonely. Most of the time I don’t care.
I can never seem to forget that the loneliest I ever felt was when I was in a close relationship with another person. That type of loneliness is the very worst feeling ever, surrounded by ‘friends and/ or ‘family’ and realizing that no-one cares what you have to say unless they can use it against you at a vulnerable time.
Hermitism is my chosen lifestyle, because of how I’ve been treated before. I know you don’t agree father, right there in your bible it says: let them hit you on the face as many times as they want. If they steal your shirt, let them have your coat, too.
It is simply too much effort to let another human have access to my feelings and inner life, as it gives them power to abuse me. I am a delicate soul who can’t take the back and forth of human interaction. I talk too much, trust too fast and I assume I will be valued, but that is not ever the case.
This results in a solitary existence and I feel the burden of that a lot lately. I don’t even value myself so how on earth could I ever expect differently from other humans. I obsess about everything, having made up arguments and conversations with people who will never know how I really feel. I have not been sleeping much lately either, and I am sure this is part of the basis of my mental discomfort.
I have not been reading your word lately, because it gives me a thousand questions that cannot be answered or even asked. Here’s one that stops me every single time I think about you: why are you so vengeful and arbitrary in scripture? I can’t read on for two minutes without seeing your “fury, your judgement, your shame and reproach, and why why why did you pick Israel as the chosen people?
Even when you are ‘comforting’ you are judging us for using this free will to do something you don’t agree with? This bible seems to be a story of contradictions that I cannot reconcile in my mind or my heart.
Alongside your ‘ I won’t leave you or forsake you for any reason’ are statements of anger, of judging, of retribution, of darkness….
I like the story of the dead, dry bones, but why did you do that? Why? Where did those bony dead people go after you resurrected them? This bone story is part of Ezekial’s dream, right? When is the story fake and when is it real?
I also was fascinated by the story of Job. You and the devil decided to mess around with this guy’s life just to see if he was really dedicated to you? You killed all his family, gave him a terrible case of shingles, took away everything he worked for just to prove his faith? Wow, sounds really mean. I know, in the end he got back everything he lost and then some. Still, just because you can do something doesn’t always mean you should…Just my opinion.
When I ponder these questions I become angry and depressed. This is something I can’t do, try to ponder out the reason we are all here playing this dreadful game of life. I feel I can’t know too much. There are so many voices, so many religions, so many opinions, how can one know what to believe? This is why I stopped reading the bible.
I am overwhelmed and under supported and it is all my fault. I don’t know how to maintain relationships, because when I am outside of anyone’s presence, including yours, I don’t know how or if I should proceed.
I’m not calling after them, but they are not calling after me either. I don’t know if they even want to be friends with me because I am not friends with myself?
This human experiment is taking its’ toll, father. Any bit of assistance would be greatly appreciated. How about lunch, next Thursday…are you free?