Ungrateful Little Shit

Everyone says that it’s normal. That’s it’s “that phase” in my life. To not have a clue, to constantly have the taste of dissatisfaction in my mouth, and the panic of my own suffocating life on my chest. I have never been normal, not a single thing is normal about me, and yet now I start fitting in?!

Screw that! I don’t want normal anymore, I got over that years ago, but now all those prayers are coming back to haunt me. I have literally gotten everything that I have been praying for. Of course not in the manner in which I was envisioning them, but I’m not the Almighty, so I really wouldn’t now how to plan my life if I tried. That would be like putting a Chihuahua in the drivers seat, and not buckling up for the ride. (And no, the Chihuahua is not from a children’s movie, so there is no orchestrated dance of multiple animals to operate the couple tons of machinery.)

No matter how many times I go over in my head all the blessings in my life, every prayer that has been answered, I can’t shake this feeling of unrest, of uselessness. My spiritual advisors have always told me that I am blessed, that it’s a good thing not to feel too at home here, because Earth is not our home. But this sensation is different. My life, my loved ones, they all surround me with support, and yet I feel alone. Like a stalled car on an abandoned road that’s out of cell range. My communication skills are failing. For me going through something that is completely normal in everyone’s life, I feel like I am being separated more and more. Today I actually had to remind myself how people interact, eye contact, smile, use words, ask how they are doing, please make the smile less pained. I have motivation for my future, which is nice, but every venture into its possibilities turns into a dead end.

I am sick and tired of feeling sorry for myself. It is really making it a nuisance that there is no way to get away from me. I just pray for help…I’m sure God doesn’t appreciate my diction, but the most common prayer I keep on saying lately is, “Father, please help me not to be such an ungrateful little shit. My life is full of so many blessings, and I just want to be able to recognize that.

St Jude

I found it

dropped on the ground,

left it to be

recovered on the table.

Instead, it caught

itself on my pinky

after six days in the sun.

I took it as a good sign.

A medal

representing the patron saint

of desperate cases.

It can’t be denied,

it’s fitting.

A little round coin

depicting the man,

who at The Last Supper

asked why Jesus wouldn’t

reveal himself to the whole world after

The Resurrection.

Much like me,

always asking God to just

reveal His plan for me already.

I took it as a good sign.

This medal

was God’s proof,

the lessons to be had

from my current confusions

and general unimpressed state of being,

are coming to a close.

In short,

something’s gotta give.

It never ceases to amaze me,

that boundless expanse that is

my arrogant ignorance

of everything.

God must think

I’m so strong.

For life is now starting

to resemble the

unrelenting frigid wind,

it was so calm before,

and I didn’t fully

appreciate that.

God help me.

St Jude pray for me.