The title comes from the lyrics to Charlotte Martin’s song Veins.
It feels like everything is just getting worse, that everything is going to come to a head and I will lose everything. It’s going to be bad.
So a bit of a backtrack. I made it to Mass Sunday and sorely wished I hadn’t. I won’t get into it but it was just the last straw. I used to like that parish but it’s gone totally downhill in the last year or so. There is only one half way decent priest (as in, can give a coherent homily, sticks to the rubrics, understands that being a priest isn’t about himself but he isn’t perfect) but that isn’t enough. I have to leave. I can’t do it anymore. I know I should go to Confession tomorrow but why bother if I’m going to end up going to one of the priests I can’t stand. And I still want to Mass on Suday but now I have to find a new parish and I don’t want to have to do that again.
So I’ve been stressing over that. But I went to bed about 4pm that day (I had stayed up all night) and slept till after 1am. I managed that again Monday so I thought I was on the right track to greeting my sleep fixed. Of course, that didn’t last long. Tuesday, well I can’t remember what I did Tuesday other than cleaning a bunny cage at 2:30am (she was bouncing off the walls running around so she was happy). I finally made it out of the apartment Wednesday. Sleep is still messed up. I did my usual Thursday volunteer hours at the library (I no longer volunteer on Mondays) but am worried the volunteer coordinator is looking to replace me on that day as well. I’m worried that I still haven’t found a job and that my mother will force me to move to Kansas to live with my parents. The last time she mentioned it I ended up suicidal so I will never move in with them or near them again.
I realized that the image and understand of Jesus I have is of a raging parent who storms up to me, slaps me across the face, and yells how horrible and disgusting I am and that I should have never have been born and that I’m ruining everything for all his good children. Sounds like my mother. Or its the indifference of the silent treatment where I’m not even acknowledged. He makes sure I see how he loves everyone else but I am worthless and unlovable to him.
I also realize I just don’t anything any more. I must be as stupid as my mother always said I was, two college degrees and all my reading prove that I’m just lying at being intelligent but especially when it cones to my Catholic faith. Like, I can learn all the intellectual stuff but I’m not permitted to actually know Jesus. Not as an actually person at all. No personal relationship, that’s only for the really special, really holy, really select group of people of which I am not one.
I knew I had being raising myself as a child but this week I came to realize I was mostly emotionally raising myself, most definitely since the age of 7 but probably as young as the age of 3. How screwed up is that. My mother, however abusive, did at least meet my physical needs to food and clothing. Granted, my mother was a terrible cook (if it was black/burned only then was it done) and most of my clothing came from second hand stores while my sisters always got new clothes from nice stores. I had learned at a young age not to ask for what I wanted or needed because I knew that I wouldn’t get it or it would be given to my sisters (especially Christmas presents; especially then, I knew not to ask for anything except clothes because I knew my sister S would get anything I wanted).
I’ve been crying as I write this because what am I to do?