Excerpt from my journal
Ed - This is an excerpt from my journal, dated 28th of December 2004. Thought I'd share it cause I hope it might help some of you out there who are going through the same thing. Names have been removed in the interest of anonymity.
It's been a rather enjoyable and fruitful day, if I may say so myself. Managed to keep to more than half of my planned schedule (hear, hear!! :p) and finally nailed a tricky stick flick (floorball). I should be up in the clouds, actually, with such a fab day behind me.
I'm in emotional turmoil now, though. It's actually really sickening because I go through this so often. Yes, you guessed it: I'm feeling left out, rejected..."I WANNA GO JOIN THEM!" AGAIN. Sounds sickeningly familiar, huh.
Lowdown is that a few of the guys and gals from my church youth group are chilling at my buddy’s place now; a farewell of sorts for one of them who is returning home to Johor tomorrow at noon. Thing is, most of my close friends are there, and I wasn’t even called or invited to join them. Sigh. Déjà vu right smack in my face. (Ed – A “cheerer-upper” for me was that the reason why my buddy didn’t bother to invite me is that she was well acquainted with my peculiar aversion to spontaneous get-togethers. Shows she does know me well. )
You know the old saying, “You’ve made your bed, now you’ve got to lie in it”? Well, I guess I’m now tossing and turning in the extremely uncomfortable bed I’ve made for myself. I mean, if I will go on rejecting social invitations and giving an indelible impression of, dare I say it, contempt for youth pop culture, then I guess it is only reasonable to expect that at some point, people might just stop inviting me altogether. Not much use going to all that trouble and wasting precious oxygen, saliva and time if they know that no’s the most probable answer. Right? Can’t say it isn’t reasonable. Can’t say it’s easy to swallow, either. Sigh. There’s my depraved, twin-headed dragon of a heart for you: always competing for affection and gratification and never satisfied. Can’t ever seem to please either of them. Oh well. Guess that’s the trouble with being a sanguine-melancholic-choleric-phlegmatic mosaic. :p
You know, it really bites dwelling on these melancholy soulish thoughts and grumblings. I tend to get all choked up and uptight whenever I lay in this confounded bed I keep making for myself. Can’t seem to get myself to make it any other way. Pride, yearning for affection, for company and fellowship, a desire to be “above” certain things, people or activities…all signs pointing the way to the nearest neighborhood Pity Party. Gotta split before depression gets a hand in. I can almost see that sneaky sprite of a demon lurking round the corner in my mind, whetting his cruel little dagger, preparing to pounce and take me down when I’m off my guard.
Oh yes, I see you, you vile fiend of hell. Your name is twain: Self-Pity and Hypocrisy. Get thee gone! This mind is the dominion of the living Christ. You have no legal right to be on these grounds.
Yes! Light breaks out and warms my fallen countenance. My sword! Rhema, the word of the Lord for the moment! “Cast all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you!!”
Thou sniveling, sickly phantom of depression. Begone, foul dwimmerlaik of Beelzebub! Seest thou this fiery brand? Rhema is its name. Get thee gone, lest I smite and cleave thy wretched brow in twain. “For He cares for me…He cares for me!”
I watch in satisfaction as the sorry creature starts and turns on its heels, fleeing with all its might from me, a Son of the Most High God wielding a fiery Rhema.
What a relief that’s done with. Hate the way these confounded hell-hounds keep managing to slip past my defenses and nip at my exposed flanks. Reckon they must have got through all those gaping holes in the wall the light just revealed. He that has no rule over his spirit is like city that is broken down, and without walls – Proverbs 25:28. Hmm. Better go repair those gaps with some solid brick and mortar from I Samuel. Out.
It's been a rather enjoyable and fruitful day, if I may say so myself. Managed to keep to more than half of my planned schedule (hear, hear!! :p) and finally nailed a tricky stick flick (floorball). I should be up in the clouds, actually, with such a fab day behind me.
I'm in emotional turmoil now, though. It's actually really sickening because I go through this so often. Yes, you guessed it: I'm feeling left out, rejected..."I WANNA GO JOIN THEM!" AGAIN. Sounds sickeningly familiar, huh.
Lowdown is that a few of the guys and gals from my church youth group are chilling at my buddy’s place now; a farewell of sorts for one of them who is returning home to Johor tomorrow at noon. Thing is, most of my close friends are there, and I wasn’t even called or invited to join them. Sigh. Déjà vu right smack in my face. (Ed – A “cheerer-upper” for me was that the reason why my buddy didn’t bother to invite me is that she was well acquainted with my peculiar aversion to spontaneous get-togethers. Shows she does know me well. )
You know the old saying, “You’ve made your bed, now you’ve got to lie in it”? Well, I guess I’m now tossing and turning in the extremely uncomfortable bed I’ve made for myself. I mean, if I will go on rejecting social invitations and giving an indelible impression of, dare I say it, contempt for youth pop culture, then I guess it is only reasonable to expect that at some point, people might just stop inviting me altogether. Not much use going to all that trouble and wasting precious oxygen, saliva and time if they know that no’s the most probable answer. Right? Can’t say it isn’t reasonable. Can’t say it’s easy to swallow, either. Sigh. There’s my depraved, twin-headed dragon of a heart for you: always competing for affection and gratification and never satisfied. Can’t ever seem to please either of them. Oh well. Guess that’s the trouble with being a sanguine-melancholic-choleric-phlegmatic mosaic. :p
You know, it really bites dwelling on these melancholy soulish thoughts and grumblings. I tend to get all choked up and uptight whenever I lay in this confounded bed I keep making for myself. Can’t seem to get myself to make it any other way. Pride, yearning for affection, for company and fellowship, a desire to be “above” certain things, people or activities…all signs pointing the way to the nearest neighborhood Pity Party. Gotta split before depression gets a hand in. I can almost see that sneaky sprite of a demon lurking round the corner in my mind, whetting his cruel little dagger, preparing to pounce and take me down when I’m off my guard.
Oh yes, I see you, you vile fiend of hell. Your name is twain: Self-Pity and Hypocrisy. Get thee gone! This mind is the dominion of the living Christ. You have no legal right to be on these grounds.
Yes! Light breaks out and warms my fallen countenance. My sword! Rhema, the word of the Lord for the moment! “Cast all your cares upon Him, for He cares for you!!”
Thou sniveling, sickly phantom of depression. Begone, foul dwimmerlaik of Beelzebub! Seest thou this fiery brand? Rhema is its name. Get thee gone, lest I smite and cleave thy wretched brow in twain. “For He cares for me…He cares for me!”
I watch in satisfaction as the sorry creature starts and turns on its heels, fleeing with all its might from me, a Son of the Most High God wielding a fiery Rhema.
What a relief that’s done with. Hate the way these confounded hell-hounds keep managing to slip past my defenses and nip at my exposed flanks. Reckon they must have got through all those gaping holes in the wall the light just revealed. He that has no rule over his spirit is like city that is broken down, and without walls – Proverbs 25:28. Hmm. Better go repair those gaps with some solid brick and mortar from I Samuel. Out.
posted by Joel Chan at
7:19 AM
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