:: sweettalk ::

:: Tuesday, November 04, 2003 ::

impending doom

God, I offer myself to Thee to build with me and to do with me as Thou wilt. Relieve me of the bondage of self that I may better do Thy Will. Take away my difficulties that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of Life. May I do Thy Will always.

Oh, that You would bless me indeed and enlarge my territory, that Your hand would always be with me, and that You would keep me from evil.

Thank You for keeping me sober today. Amen.

The prophet who fails to present a bearable alternative and yet preaches doom is part of the trap that he postulates. Not only does he picture us caught in a tremendous man-made or God-made trap from which there is no escape, but we must also listen to him day in, day out, describe how the trap is inexorably closing. To such prophecies the human race, as presently bred and educated and situated, is incapable of listening. So some dance and some immolate themselves as human torches; some take drugs and some artists spill their creativity in sets of randomly placed dots on a white ground. -- Margaret Mead, U.S. anthropologist, Culture and Commitment

There is an air of last things, a brooding sense of impending annihilation, about so much deconstructive activity, in so many of its guises; it is not merely postmodernist but preapocalyptic. -- David Lehman, Signs of the Times

Everything's a little better this week. I finally broke down and call my old therapist Joan last Thursday. I felt sick Thursday night after work, so I skipped the Rebellion Dogs and stayed home on Friday. I slept and slept and slept on Friday and Saturday. The only other things I did were to make sure I ate plenty and met Rossdog for breakfast at Lucky's, and finished reading The Butlerian Jihad.

On Sunday, I did a few loads of laundry, counted all of October's money for Lambda, went to Banana Republic and bought Mom her birthday present, and met the fam to celebrate at Tony Roma's in Grapevine. I finally chatted with Allen Sunday night. He's really depressed and I think things are over between us boyfriend-wise; however, I think we'll always be good friends and I learned a lot about myself and what I want from the experience.

Last night, I took an AA meeting down to the jail and went to meet with Joan for two hours. I quit seeing her four years ago so we had some catching up to do therapywise. Out of all of it, I think we both realized that I am the one stressing myself out. It's this sense of certain and impending doom I get when I'm not sure I can get everything done or get it done correctly. It's been with me always, and my solution the past few years has been to do less. Now that I'm doing more, that isn't working. Somehow, I've got to realize when that impending doom feeling is fucking with my mind and laugh at it or deal with it somehow. I'm not sure what to do about it, but I might as well try face it and find the answer instead of continually running away from it.

Anway, I dropped off my rent check afterwards, went by 7-Eleven for some cigarettes, and then came home and and returned calls from my sponsee Marcus and my friend Tom. This morning, I emailed Uncle Hal back. Slowly, I'm catching up on things. Uggh.

God, please give me the power and wisdom to recognize the impending doom feeling and help me know what to do with it. Thanks.

:: Kyle 5:38 AM 0 comments
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