Be honest, vulnerable. Accepting. Of myself

Earlier I defined myself as a broke unemployed job hopping home wrecking unfaithful. I define myself by negatives. By the WIL and her husband. by my wife. My employers. I am fucking vicious mean to myself. Seriously. If I talked to someone how I talk to myself it would be abuse. Torture. I have fucking absolutely destroyed my sense of self. My pride. Happiness. Time to be nice. Like myself again. That is so hard to do. I feel like society sees me as a self centered and clueless. That a man like me should be bashed. So I join in. Believe I deserve it.

I am trapped. If I don’t like myself or my narrative I am going to die or go insane. The only way out is accepting myself. Loving myself

This is the second time I have been laying in bed, full on panic attack and found relief thinking this record is my only salvation. My ministry. How I can share and find peace.

The wife said she is not going to go to Phoenix. At least not for now. Her friend is going to stay with her. She doesn’t need support from me.

Probably for the best. We are not together any more. I need to find my way. I am a little jealous. She can stay in Dana Point. This was the city I chose. She always resented it. Probably just resented me.

Utah was the challenge of being the chaplain. I set a goal. Be the chaplain for five years. When the five years were up utah didn’t feel alive any more.

California was defined by losing the job that brought me out here. Holding on. The plan was to hold on until my daughter graduated. I didn’t make it. I have to say I don’t care. I love my daughter. But it was a shitty goal. I was never really happy. Now the moment of truth. I am leaving. Can I find a new goal in a new place? Or am I spiraling out of control?

I just can’t find happiness any more. I am overwhelmed. I used to find islands of happiness. There were islands of sadness too. But there were always things to enjoy, appreciate look forward to. I am having a hard time finding them now.

I am scared. I feel physically sick. Disappointed. Hopeless. I need to find my purpose again. Share my peace.

I don’t have the courage to stand behind my words or actions. I do things I am embarrassed about and try to hide them. I say things I think make me look weak and I try to hide them. All I do is try and hide from everything.

I am so fucking excited to get out of town. Lockdown has destroyed my coping techniques.

I need a road trip. Be somewhere else

I am starting to calm down after a rough morning. The experience was like a hangover from drinking. I felt like shit. I knew why. But I didn’t know why it was so severe. Or how long it would last. I was just reading news stories. About a winter storm in New York. Then the “hangover” abated. I started to relax.

Not working is killing me. I have too much time to think. My mind is going too fast. With nothing to stop contradictory thoughts. I cycle into dangerous places

The happy ending is financial reward, independence, fulfilling work. Excitement, passion. Love

I tried every way I could possibly think of to achieve the happy ending. The best life. I didn’t succeed. I am farther away, not closer. What do I do? How do I change my path? My goal? My personality?

I can’t trust myself. I can’t figure this out on my own. I need help. Counseling

I don’t know how to have healthy relationships. At work, personally, in any setting. How did I become so fucked up?

Depression is like a bad story. It hurts and scares me but I have had enough experience to cope and outlast. There is cohesion to the narrative. The narrative just sucks.

Panic is ducking scary. There is no narrative. It is an explosion. All my thoughts are puzzle pieces. Floating in dark space. Electric static like lightening. I can’t find a through line.

Suicide. Physical death. That was the worst option. I am physically healthy. Not likely to harm myself. The worst option now is mental breakdown. That could even popsicles lead to death. Seriously. My brain shirt circuits. I am not sure what would happen.

There are so many negative thoughts around work. I don’t know if I can mentally keep a job. The regional vp I would report to sent me an email. She asked for a bio to share. I sent her a response. She didn’t acknowledge she got it. I am so scarred from nine jobs. This has sent me into a panic. Is there something wrong with my background check? References? The bio I wrote? Did she not get the response? What if she thinks I am unreliable now?

Tomorrow I go to Phoenix. Now it becomes real. This wasn’t a choice. I should have moved a year ago. I couldn’t afford this house. My pride put me deep in debt. I wanted to stay stable for my daughter. I was confident I could make it up. I failed.

I left nothing on the table. I am really low. Perhaps broken beyond salvation. But between utah, the WIL and Southern California I lived the life I wanted.

My teammate and classmate had lung cancer in his twenties. Died at 40. He wasn’t promised anything. Neither am I. Sometimes life is fun, sometimes you find salvation. in the end every story is a tragedy.

I can think of a million ways to make myself feel something by feeling sad. I don’t want to feel sad any more. I am peace . Please give me the conduit to share peace