I’ve been praying again, at least making an honest effort. I still forget that I’m praying sometimes and let my mind wander but I pull it back as quickly as I can, apologize to my Father in Heaven and push forward. It seems odd that prayer is so hard for me. That it was nothing before but “Please, Father, get me through today.” (And He did) But because of my meager efforts I’m no longer extremely anxious about taking the forward steps I need to into the haze of uncertainty because I know He will prepare a path for me even if all I can see it one step at a time.
It’s so hard to describe the sensation of this for me. I’ve always known there was a higher power (mine is God/Heavenly Father/Elohim) for as long as I can remember. At one point I wanted to be cloistered away as a nun; a life of service and reflection apparently appeals to the writers heart. However, I chose the secular world and now my realities are 1) my job is ending 2) my education to be a phlebotomist is a joke in the industry 3) I’ve not stuck anyone in years and 4)it’s going to pay less (especially a non-union job) than the pittance I’m making now. (I’m not even going to go into the lack of writing, lack of journaling and lack of any creativity in my life right now). My mind races and then collapses from exhaustion. I think R.E.M. said it best:
It’s the end of the world as we know it
And I feel fine
I’ve never been able to really make plans for my future because I’ve always had the concept hard wired into my mind “Live now for tomorrow we die”. So now, I pray about it, when the anxiety, fear and general loathing of change overtakes me and then a calm comes and the gentle words of peace and comfort scatter the emotions like cockroaches in the light and I feel fine.
Though I’m still anxious about a lot of things:
Mom’s ultimate destination and getting her ready, getting me ready, fear of walking in on her and finding her when I’m alone
Money lasting to the end of the month and not being able to buy stuff with my own money
Getting money together for my nephews wedding (This is new one, he’s going on a cruise and we’re all invited)
Being trapped forever with Mom
Never getting my eating under control and never being able to eat Golden Mega Stuff Oreos again
Dying before I have a chance to live
Being around people
Dealing with my family and the anger it stirs up in me and the fear of not being able to control it around them
That’s just off the top of my head, the things that I can pick out when it’s spinning. Though I know everything in my heart will be okay, the chemicals in my brain still won’t settle down and leave me in peace. I’m hoping to replace my emergency anti-anxiety pills and the half one I take every day, with meditation and prayer. It is my sincerest desire to be trusting and rest in the Lords embrace and know everything will be okay. Though my heart is starting to trust my head is still overly paranoid and distrusting of everyone and everything, both physical and spiritual. It’s not the end of the world, just a change, and I will be fine. Prayer needs to be my bridge from this life to the next, I can feel that in my heart to be true and I need to be more persistent in following the whispers of hope and orient myself to the feeling of warmth and comfort the Spirit provides when I follow my heart.
Mom is happily watching her 49ers play while I’m tucked inside the “cooling room”, the only room in the house where I can bring the temperature down to a livable level for me…like in the mid 60s. With headphones and a stockpile of cookies you’d think I’d be a happy camper, but no. I’m irritated, my eyes want to pull down the lids and block out the world. I’ve only taken my puppy upper pills this morning but that’s about it. I need to change that so I don’t miss them any more. I can be such an idiot sometimes. I know better, I’ve seen the difference in myself between medicated and non medicated, the world knows the difference when I’m medicated or not medicated. And yet I let these slips happen. I’m such an idiot.
I want to just hide away in my room, in my bed where it’s safe. And I would too, if my mother could take care of herself in the least. She likes having a lady-in-waiting. It fulfills her imagined royal imagining that she is of royal blood, the she was ripped from the courts of the refined and noble world and put into the mire with the rest of us peasants. I’m not kidding. It’s put more sarcastically than I probably should state, but since I discovered that we really are related to the Plantagenet kings of England it has amplified her delusions of royalty. I haven’t researched the bloodline but I’m sure we’re there by way of a Fitz-Something*.
Okay, I know, cranky. If I had the patience I’d try to write this out in my journal, or if I had the energy I’d try to get some work done or my beads put together. I’ve decided that when I can sit and do 100 Om Mani Padme Hum’s in one sitting with beads interspersed for deep breaths then I will have the discipline to move into a more focused, or Zen like mediation. That is a worthy thing to do, especially for the Sabbath, but F it, I think I’ll take a nap instead.
I started meditation. But not guided meditation like before. The woman’s once soothing dulcet tones were starting to annoy me. So I decided to go the more Old School traditional. So I chant…….
Om Mani Padme Hum
Yes it feels silly some times but trying to remember the sounds takes a lot of my mental concentration. Each syllable has a meaning. For example Om means generosity or hum means wisdom. I say this to myself when I need to take a pause or when I have a pause and instead of doing I chant. I can’t say that it’s miraculously cured me, dang it, but I felt the hum of wisdom this morning while I was stuck in traffic already irritatingly late to work.
I guess what it basically boils down to is I’m scared. I’m scared that I won’t be able to handle the extra load of taking classes, that I’ll drive off the twisty-windy road and plummet to my death because my eye lids were too heavy to keep open during the coming and going to class. More likely than not it will prove too much for me and I’ll have to withdraw from class and take an F or incomplete and have to start all over again. Wisdom stepped in and calmed my mind and simply said:
“Not trying is guaranteed failure. Trying and failing is practice for the time you try and achieve.”
So I’m now trying to decide which is better. Going to a semester long class close to the ocean or two quarter classes close to home. I guess I need to keep Om Mani Padme Hum spinning along with my brain until something flys out at me.