Anger

 "Come make a sacrifice of all your shame"

I AM angry Lord. But I don't know who to be angry with or what to be angry about.

My heart shouts at me to move move move, but it is also so full of reluctance and fear and unwillingness.

Meet another student?

Sort out my notes?

Plan a programme?

Certainly those are things that I can do, but I don't want to.

I don't even want to go home because when I go home there is the wife and the kids to deal with.

And I must be present there.

I don't want to be present.

I want to disappear. I want to stop. I want to...not exist.

Yet the bible is there, calling me to reach out for hope

The family is there calling me to stand up for love

The job is there calling me to move on for responsibility

You are there, watching. 


What will you do, han min?

Will you give up? will you honour me? will you love me?

I gave you Jesus, what will you give me?


These are the thoughts I imagine you asking me. Somehow, I know it's false. but I don't understand and I don't know why it's false. what else could you be asking for in Jesus?

but that aside. In two weeks, maybe in two months, this will fade away and I will be confused but able to hide it, able to function. I will be aware of this problem but it will be not immediate

But it will come back. Month after month, year after year... until I die.

"I want to enjoy life with you!"

Sorry darling. I love you, but I cannot imagine living so long. I don't love life at all. It's a responsibility more than anything else. I love you, and that also means I am responsible for many things. I am responsible to treat you special. I am responsible to take care and lead the family. I am responsible to provide. All of these things I do not do. So I love you and I hate me. Of course, that's not really possible, you can't hate yourself and love someone else. so I guess we have to find a different term for what I feel towards you.

Let me stop! Allow me to stop and disappear, please. But I guess that is not God's plan. 

Seek mental health support? I probably should. I wouldn't know what to say. I wouldn't want to say.

I know the whole spiel you know? I know the confidentiality clause. 

Do you know how hard it is to share knowing how much trouble there will be?

I have enough trouble admitting that I forget an important task, or trying to figure out if I misread or misstepped somewhere. Do you know how much preparation I need to do any of those things?

I don't have the courage or the stamina to work through any of these things. Because once my mouth opens, it is no longer in my control. I will not be allowed to rest. it will be a new move command. and suddenly I will need to "get better". And it will be ten times worse because now I will need to deal with the reality that I am a real burden, irreversibly so, until I get a clean bill of health.

And will have to deal with the fall out. I will have to deal with know that I dropped the ball again.

So Stand up, you. Stand up, and move. One more step. One more hour, one more day. One more. You are halfway there. 11 years in service. Another 11 and everyone will be independent - or independent enough. At worst, 16 years. 16 years is extremely safe. After that, you can quit, you can die, you can crash and it'll be just you. At least, that's what you hope. But that's a fiction for another day. For today, it is enough.

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