On the brink of some amazing successes in my life, I am struggling with my own tendency to bring myself down. In the morning I have my prayer time and sort through things. Why am I so hard on myself? How do I keep falling into these depressions, and why, when I have the capacity to achieve so much, do I keep on sabotaging myself?
My error first of all is clearly that I don’t have enough supportive friends right now. And, as though there were something foreboding always against me, always a step ahead of me, I keep pursuing friendships that let me down. Or I say something from a place of needing support on Facebook and someone comes in to that soft spot of hurt in my soul, and hurts me deeper. Blocking the “friend” seems to fix things somehow but never truly gets rid of the newly exacerbated pain.
This particular pain is hurtful in its own demonic way. Having gone to different churches, open to receive the support any normal person needs, I have had to leave many after finding these odd New Jersey churches to be so blatantly in error, as to not allow me to continue with them with a good conscience. For example, the last church I tried seemed to have a strong Biblical message from the pulpit, but there was no connection between the members. When I brought this to the pastor’s attention with the assistance of a friend who backed up my sentiments, he was defensive and wouldn’t hear.
My major Achilles’ heel is a voice from my past. It is strong and I have never completely gotten away from it. It is a competitive voice that wants me to fail. For if I don’t fail, then they will feel like a failure. One of us must fail, in the sight of this person, and for some reason I have never understood, it is not possible that we both succeed.
I have never known why we could not both encourage each other and build each other up. As I have sent her and her family Christmas gifts and birthday gifts year after year, I have never understood why she did not deem me worthy of gifts from her and her family as well (the flashes of light when she gave me special gifts, only add to the hurt when she on other occasions ignores me instead). I don’t know why she seems to resist being important in my life. Maybe this would be too big a responsibility for someone who struggles much more than is apparent. Perhaps to be one, as myself, who gives others support, one must be strong. Maybe it is necessary to have gifts from God, a loving heart, a wise and thoughtful mind, which few possess. Maybe it is the gift in oneself, that causes her to find true places of deficit in others. And so the self must learn to rely on the gifts within her, and woefully cease to find strength elsewhere.
These things I struggle with as I seek to let go again. Writing is so fluid for me. It is my salvation and I must keep encouraging myself to find more of me here. There is so much to sabotage myself with. I needn’t worry about accidentally sharing my thoughts with the wrong people who will hold these things against me. Such people do not care enough to search or find. Such persons are occupied with lesser things. Someone on a rampage to bring me down due primarily to jealousy pertaining to my God-given gifts, will not find me here, but will only see an image of me that suits her own mind. She cannot know me, and therefore never truly can destroy me.