As I hop through Maslow’s hierarchy, I find what I truly need, from food to soul food. Climbing this pyramid is a high no drug can take you.
If I only had financial security.
I could afford all the things I need, like a housekeeper. No seriously, that’s becoming a basic necessity while I’m dealing with soul healing stuff. So much is required in this process, and I know I’m not alone in these needs. Luxuries become therapy: someone to help with daily function, travel for relaxation and a change of pace, scenery and people… Sometimes eating out every night of the week because bad week… Some people eat their emotions; I prefer to shop mine. But also the stress of paying bills and getting them paid on time can be a daunting task for even the mentally healthy that it’s just impossible sometimes for people like me who are on a healing journey. Sometimes the only way I know how to deal with problems is to throw money at it.
But ants don’t use money to build their homes and feed their young. They use other ants.
If I only had a hand.
A baby was a lot of work. 2 hour feedings killed me. A baby and a toddler was mind boggling. They slept in shifts. A baby and 2 toddlers was FUBARriffic, disabling, and permanently scarred me. Nobody helped me.
The sleep deprivation and undernourishment of the one man show should have killed me. I think it did. But I’m not dead. I’m just mostly dead.
I know I keep whining about my past life in this life with the kids as babies like a whine-a-holic who needs rehab. I need to spew this negative brain matter somewhere like a Clint Eastwood Spit on a forehead, and this blog is my spit-can since it’s not lady-like to spit on people’s foreheads.
I don’t blame the kids for being kids or for existing. I blame all the people who were supposed to be there for me. I still resent them because I’m still so broken from it all, and they still aren’t here for me, yet they expect me to be there for them, and I usually am.
A part of me died back then, quite literally, because I now deal with both the physical world and a spiritual world. I’m half alive and half ghost. Let me tell you, demons are everywhere because they are within every being, dead and alive, good or evil. You have real demons who exceed the population of living humans haunting the earth, on the surface and beneath it, but you also have the same dark, negative voices talking to you in the form of friends, family, and our own thoughts. I wasn’t ready for death.
My family and friends watched me suffer and did nothing to help. I still suffer, and I’m still alone in my fight. I was sent to battle without an army. All these people will repeatedly watch me fight my battles alone. Forgiveness is easy after the fact with some sort of hope it won’t happen again. Try forgiving amidst the pain, in the middle of suffering, knowing these people will just do it again and again. Asking me to forgive is asking me to do something only the Son of God can do with Godly Powers like a Hercules of Love.
I haven’t forgiven. I have mostly forgiven.
If I could connect with people.
I wouldn’t feel so alone, and I’d probably fare better as a writer. Very few people feel connected to me, but I never feel the connection. I’m the ugly duckling, and God forgot to make my swans.
I feel so empty without any real connection.
I’m too diverse. I love talking about science and math, but also arts and literature. Then also business, economics and politics. Then also spirituality and philosophy, the battle between good and evil where the winner is to eliminate both like God’s Vision in Eden, and understanding the Trinity. I don’t like religious debates, celebrity gossip, small talk or things that are man-made illusions acting as psychological coping mechanisms.
And I don’t just have varying interests, I like mixing them up. We discovered music with math, but you can discover math with music. Anyone care to do that with me? Didn’t think so.
Plus my personality gets in the way a lot. I’m domineering, honest, and ballsy, but I’m also accepting, sincere and worth it. I’m serious and silly. I love making sense of nonsense, and turning sense into nonsense. I’m often a juxtaposition and a paradox; for instance, what you see is what you get with me, but I’m never what I seem.
I naturally think about concepts without emotion in search for TRUTH, so I have to make a conscious effort to consider your feelings. I’m empathetic to what you tell me, but I’m not empathetic to what I tell you. The empathy part is why I’d make a great shrink who could diagnose you better than most, but the lack of empathy part is exactly why I’d make a horrible shrink who couldn’t help you cope. As a result, sometimes I come across as self-absorbed and rude, even though I don’t mean to.
I care more about you than I care about what you think of me. Most people are the opposite. Caring about others is a spiritual, high road. Caring about what they think of you will get you farther in life on the path of success.
I’ll talk about subjects you don’t talk about. If I tell you about my period, I’m trying to relate to women on their periods. If I tell you about my bowel movement, I’m probably trying to make you laugh. If I tell you about how to achieve an orgasm, it’s because I want to help women who don’t experience that. Go ahead and think I’m a slut, but your orgasm is more important to me than your opinion of me talking about orgasms in public.
Tell me you have a migraine,and you are looking for pity and someone to listen with no real solution, but I come at you with three paragraphs on how to treat a migraine. In my quest to help you, I have annoyed the piss out of you. I do it because I care too much about you and want to end your pain for you. I don’t give a shit if I bombard you with boring info you don’t want to read or hear because giving you a hug doesn’t get rid of your migraine.
My opinions are based on facts in search for truth and a solution. Most people’s opinions are based on fitting in where they seek facts that back up their claim ignoring facts that say otherwise. I search for solutions because I care about you. Most people base opinions on fitting in because they care more about themselves than about helping the world.
I will tell you something political where it will hurt my career because I care about my cause and humanity more than myself. I tell you this stuff because I want to see change. You don’t have to agree with me, but I want you to be part of the solution. I don’t want to argue. I just want you to understand what I’m saying. I’m open to new ideas when I see you understood my point. Most people will avoid a political discussion where rocking a boat will hurt their career, but then dish it out where it’s safe in hopes to rock the boat and create a debate. Most people would rather prove you are an idiot so others think they are smart.
I don’t follow social p’s and q’s and that scares a lot of people off. I still want the connection, but as your relief to be yourself as opposed to expecting me to be something I’m not to fit in with the fake you.
I’m kind of a crutch to wear as a friend because of this. It’s probably the reason I don’t connect with people, but if you have to be something you’re not to get that connection, is it a real connection? I just can’t believe in that illusion so many embrace as truth.
My current biggest obstacle… I’m now kind of a medium as sleep deprivation opened that portal in my mind. I deal with demons, ghosts, and angels… Every day. It’s confusing, often overwhelming, and many times, painful and scary. There just aren’t too many Christian Psychics in this world. Priests, ministers, and your average psychics are not interested in listening to me let alone help me. I don’t have any guide through this who is in our realm. Only spirit guides.
No one wants to talk about it either. Nobody wants to hear the details or the things I face. I’m left not being able to talk about a huge chunk of my life right now. Either you think I’m insane and don’t want to listen to mumbo jumbo, or you believe me and find death too scary to talk about. Not to mention, it’s too deep for most people to handle.
I seek true love in a world who doesn’t understand the necessity for it or how it works. I’m not talking about my husband or romance. I’m talking about you. People place conditions on things they call unconditional. You do not truly love humanity if you expect them to behave a certain way. You do not truly love humanity if you can’t love everyone for who they are, even when they disagree or screw up. I wish my love for you was reciprocated, but it’s not required for me to care about you because that’s not how love works.
I am the sound of the ocean in a sea shell. I crave to be in the ocean because that’s where I belong, but I’m stuck here in the sand who can’t hear me and doesn’t want to.
If only I had God.
Right here next to me. In some manly, physical form. The helping hand. Someone to take care of me. Telling me about musical math, reminding me of my doctor’s appointment, helping me find my focus and giving me encouraging words to resolve my deficiencies to earn enough money to survive comfortably and manage that money to stop myself from spoiling myself. Someone who will empathize and listen. Someone who knows the ways of the spirit and can help me navigate through that world. Someone who will love me for who I am. And someone to lay on and cuddle with when I’m feeling alone and defeated. He is my ocean.
I Long for the Hands that Painted Me Spiral Notebook by CrumpetsAndBollocks
See more Christian Notebooks at zazzle.com
This is part of…
For more If I Only Had’s, check out