Do Not Worry

The words from the sermon yesterday are coming back to haunt me. Do not worry. And for the most part, I don't, but in this one thing, it seems to be all I can do. I don't want to deal with the situation with my parents. I think that's the bottom line. I just don't want to. The status quo is less frightening than taking on the beast that is my family, though I can hardly call them that. Status quo is familiar. There are no unknowns, and there is no chaos. Why can't I just call it what it is and move on? Why do I have to be the one to move mountains?

Today, there is no peace. I don't know if it's all because of the parents. Maybe it isn't. I feel like a pest, like I've been spiraling down again and patience with me is running thin. It must be. My patience with me is nearly gone.

Depression is a brutal master; one from which freedom is not easily won. It would seem that he has returned to try to take control again. I am weak.

I wrote the following as an email last night.

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I'm chatting with Becki online right now. We're talking about my two families- the one I was born into and the one I've adopted for myself since the original one is defective. (Can't do this life thing without other people. Trust me. I tried.)

I was supposed to get together with my dad just to hang out this weekend, by Amy's & Elizabeth's orders. Scott had a concert in Escondido today. Scott isn't actually *in* any choirs. He just works with them. But guess where my parents spent the day? So Amy'll be kicking my butt again Thursday. Which is good. I guess.

Beck's pushing me to do the letter [to my dad]. At this moment I'm terrified. I don't know if I'm strong enough. I think that if I start writing stuff, I'll fall apart completely. Or worse... need to and be completely unable to. Like usual.

Take this all with a grain of salt. I *did* just get back from another lovely goodbye (and a very yummy pina colada). I think the cowardice of the moment is pretty standard for me, though. Beck just cornered me on that. "When will you actually stop letting fear stop you and just write it?" ARG! I have all these wonderful people trying to help me and here I am freaking out. Go chris! So I promised I'd have it done by Friday when I call her. EEK.

I think I'm sending you this for the sake of accountability, though I can't be certain. I think I also need someone in this hemisphere to have a clue where I'm at. Know what? My parents will follow Scott all over the place for his non-concerts, but neither one of them congratulated me on the Who's Who thing, which, while not exactly earth shaking, is pretty darn cool. I'm tired of it. Tired of Mom's insults from open house decorating. Tired of Scott being the center of the universe (not by his choosing). Tired of not counting for anything in my family.

Now that you've had a good dose of stream of chris-ishness or consciousness or whatever, and I have gone through every possible emotion in the last 4 hours, I think I'll sign off. I'm thinking sleep might be the best remedy at the moment. I want to give up. I know you won't let me. And that's why you're reading this.