Wednesday, December 13, 2006

So, this is how it's going to be?

How do I start talking about this subject without sounding full of self-pity? How do I express my feelings, and frustrations, and rage about what I'm planning on talking about without alienating every one who might want to empathize with my plight? I guess I can't really concern myself with that too much. This is really a forum to express myself, and whoever might get something out of it is really gravy. I know that sounds like a deeply narcissistic thing to say, but what the hey, I'm a narcissist.

I appear totally unable to form and establish an intimate relationship with someone. Strike that. I appear unable to even get out of the gate. One first needs to get out of the gate before even considering the possibility of conceiving of having an intimate relationship. A series of events appear necessary prior to even, shall we say, the contemplation of the consideration of the event of concerning oneself with the potential of a relationship. See what I'm saying? We haven't even left the realm of the conception. I'm still in the potty training stage of relationships at 45 years old.

Would it be out of the realm of possibility, or even the realm of probability, that there has been some sort of developmental stuntation going on here? A stuntifying retardation? A "Special Needs" situation? Is this condition an inflexible, unmoveable feast? What is really going on here? I'm quite serious about this question? WHAT IS GOING ON HERE? How many more women am I going to pursue and then crumble into shattered segments after the first attempt on my part? How powerful are the forces that continue to shame me unmercifully from moving towards love? Are these the same forces that prevent me from moving, and living, my dreams?How many years of therapy, and recovery, and spirituality et al...will it take to even comprehend the problem?

If I at least understood the problem then I think I would have some sort of take on it. The mud is so thick that I am unable to see anything but molasses. My mind is finished with trying to solve this riddle. The only solution I can even mutter, is God. Whatever the hell that means to me, at this time in my life. An absolute, complete personal surrender to God. This is the only answer that consistently arises when I feel this kind of despair. It punches through all the veils and leaves me with some semblance of the truth. It returns me to the understanding that God's love is the one true love. It is the only force that can solve the terrible emptiness that persistently rises in an attempt to convince me that the substance, in whatever form, is the truth. I know that is not true today. But I don't know it at the level of the mind. I know it at the level of the moment.


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