Because I need reminding

I was feeling a bit rubbish earlier so I walked over to the Central Library in my lunchbreak, wandered around the novels and then went upstairs and picked up a copy of Angels on the Walls, which I'd read several years before. I sat down in the nearest seat and started reading. After a while I wanted to move to a seat with a table to rest the book on so I wandered across and picked one on the grounds that it was as far as possible from other people. I'd been sitting concentrating on the book, until a point where the author was talking about Jesus loving everyone, and my mind drifted off into thinking about John 3:16 and explaining that God so loved the world - not just the nice people or the people who are going to follow him - when I looked away from the book to the graffiti on the bit of wall in front of me. This is the first thing that I saw:

Preaching School

Image via Wikipedia Reflecting on last night's preaching school, I have to say that although James has put a fantastic amount of work into it, and Jon, Karen and Matt are great and very supportive, I feel less sure that I would want to carry on to the point where I was preaching in front of the church. This is partly because of my generic laziness - the positively-phrased feedback last night included the word "underprepared" - but, more seriously, because I can see two major problems. Firstly, I am too busy to be able to do this properly and take it as seriously as it should be. I can't even manage to do basic housework, let alone put in the amount of time and effort that preaching in public needs. I wouldn't put myself forward to lead a small group or do children's work, precisely because I know I couldn't give the commitment, and even allowing for preaching not being very frequent, I'm not sure I should say I'll do it if I don't think I'll be able to do it properly. Secondly, I am chronically depressed, with acute phases of misery and despair. This means that when I preach from the heart, I will not actually be giving a very good impression of giving Good News. Last night I really thought I'd given a sober but balanced exposition of the passage, and it wasn't until it was pointed out to me that I realised that I had missed out on the positive element of it and basically said "Life is shit, and that's the way it is". Now, I may think that about my life, but I cannot generalise from my point of view, and I certainly can't do it in front of church, where people will give more weight to what I say precisely because I am at the front of church, and I dare not risk generalising from my experience of life and doing it in a way that has a major impact on someone else if I don't even realise I'm doing it. I don't have anyone (other preaching school members aside) who I would go to for feedback and support, and I know that if I was asked to preach and was feeling down and miserable, I'd say "Yes, of course, that will be fine."

The only thing in favour of me carrying on is the feeling that this is something God wants me to do. On the other hand, I have previously thought that God wanted me to go into ordained ministry ("Thanks but no thanks" said the Church of England) or that God had called me to do youth work (managed to mess that one up myself), so a vague feeling that this may be how I'm supposed to use my ability to stand up and talk in public might not in itself be a good enough reason; certainly not good enough to risk doing something very important very badly.

Isaiah 6

Image via WikipediaI was a bit despondent during and after last night's Celebration, so rather than going to the quiz, I went home to have a bit of a read of my Bible and try and think and pray a bit. As usual, the plan got a bit derailed, but I did eventually go upstairs and opened up the Bible here. The thing that really struck me from this was that Isaiah didn't hear God asking who He should send until after he'd had the coal touched to his lips. Often I think that I want to do whatever God wants me to do, but I'm just too sinful/lazy/messed up. What struck me was that Isaiah didn't hear a request from God, and then say "Oh no, I'm too sinful." His cry of "Woe is me! I am ruined!" is just from being in the presence of God, and at that point the angel basically says "It's OK, don't worry, we've got that sorted" (note that Isaiah didn't have to DO anything - apart from possibly saying "Don't put that glowing coal in my face"), and it's then that Isaiah hears God saying "Whom shall I send?" and he can volunteer.

Maybe it's obvious, but rather than moaning "I just wish I knew what God wanted me to do", I could (a) acknowledge that I'm not worthy even to come into His presence and (b) accept - really accept - that all my sinfulness and guilt has been taken away, then maybe I'd be able to hear more clearly what He wants me to do.

This is Steve

Two thoughts from the last 24 hours that are knocking up against each other in my head. The first is something that came from Preaching School last night, about dealing with feedback, and how it's useful to have a small group of people who you can trust to give you honest feedback about a sermon. My reaction was that that sounded like a good idea, but I would struggle to find such a group of people. Outside of family, I have some people whose comments I would certainly take seriously, but (outside family) I can't think of anyone who I would include in a "feedback group".

The second thought is that I've recently started several blog posts about how I feel, and have then abandoned or deleted them. It's certainly the case that I'm finding it hard not to be depressed at the moment, and that I'm alternating between wanting to overcome it, get myself motivated, etc, etc, and giving in to it, being self-destructive and really despising myself. I'm not sure, however, why I'm finding it hard to publish blog posts about that. A look through the archives of this blog will find any number of posts about feeling down, or dealing with it.

There is an element, I think, of not wanting to keep on going endlessly on and on about how rubbish everything is: I don't want to write it and I assume most people don't want to read it. But somewhere there's a link to that first idea, about with whom I have honest relationships, and to whom I can say "I'm feeling down" without making a joke about it, or adding "...yet again, sorry".

Not sure there's an answer to this, and I have run out of blogging time, but if I have any further thoughts about this, I'll put them here (probably!)

Procrastination

I'm becoming increasingly fed up with myself for not getting things done. There are lots of reasons behind this, which is one of the things I've been talking about in counselling sessions recently (which may be why I'm getting more frustrated about it), but more often than not it comes down to a simple choice not to do something. There may be all kinds of payoffs for inaction (or alternative, displacement action) and there may be complex and longstanding learned behaviours at work; it may well be the case that I choose not to do something that will be boring or unpleasant; still when the moment comes when I could do something, I make the choice not to do it.

Maybe I should use this blog (or now that I'm into microblogging, use Twitter) to record some successes - things I actually get done - and give myself some positive reinforcement.

Therapy

Went for an introductory session with a guy called John Baker at the GP surgery this morning. Unsurprisingly, talked about addressing my needs rather than just trying to placate them with chocolate, hopefully it will be useful for looking at some of my recurrent Romans 7:15 moments.

100

This is the 100th post on this blog, and to mark this occasion I've just sat and read all of the previous 99 in order. Gosh, don't I go on and on and on about the same old stuff! There are a couple of pieces in there that I think are worth reading, that make me think I'm glad I wrote that thought down. Sadly these are the minority of posts, and I feel quite ambivalent about the fact that I am not very different from how I was 15 months ago. I'm pleased that I don't feel quite the same way, that I have moved on; on the other hand it's sobering to see that I haven't really changed very much, and that a lot of the things that I think are "progress" are simply reworking the same old ground. Maybe one good thing is that I'm more hopeful, that joy is still a transient experience (which I think is one of the characteristics of joy anyway, but that's a subject for one of the next 100 posts), but a slightly more common one. Now to see if I can manage to get to post number 200 before April 2009!

Happy New Year

Good grief! I've just looked at this blog and realised that I hadn't posted anything since November, and that wasn't exactly chatty and uplifting. Thankfully, I'm feeling more positive than I did back then, so I will try and put slightly more on here in the next few weeks and months. This isn't a New Year's resolution: I haven't made any, partly because I never keep them, but also because I'm a chronic maker of resolutions, and I know that keeping on saying to myself "From now on, I will/will not do x any more" is often another way of saying "I don't like myself because I do/don't do this thing", which then means that when I don't keep that resolution, I've confirmed what a no good/unreliable/unlikeable person I am. So, no resolutions.

Not that this means I'm not aiming to be more like the person I was created to be, or that I don't want to improve my relationships, or that there is nothing I want to achieve. But rather than setting a list of tasks and targets, I'm more interested in developing my relationship with God and allowing him to change me. That way, the things that I do more or less of are outward signs of internal change, rather than things to beat myself up with.

Absence of anything

Sorry I've not posted much. The thing with being depressed is that I'm, well, depressed. One result of this is that I don't feel much like blogging. Or to be more accurate, I do feel like blogging but I don't actually get around to it, because doing anything, even stuff I want to do, feels like too much effort and I put everything off that I possibly can.

So anyway, there you go.

Ups and downs

One of the things I really hate about depression is that when I have a down couple of days, it feels so much like things will never improve. If I was down all the time, or if I had an Eeyore personality, then I presume either I'd think that things might get better one day, or I'd give up entirely. But when I have a few good days, or a good week, and then go back to feeling sluggish, lethargic and hopeless, it feels so much worse. I guess that one of the first things to go in a down spell is the belief that I can do anything about it. Being happier seems to go along with feeling more in control, more able to get things done. Being down inevitably goes with feelings of being overwhelmed, of not being able to make anything better, no matter how much I want to.

Hope springs eternal, just not very high.

Overwhelmed

I've got so much to do, and so little time. I just feel utterly overwhelmed at the thought of all the stuff I've got to get done before we go on holiday in three weeks time; work stuff (really urgent or else I'm going to be in BIG trouble), home stuff (kind of essential or else we won't be able to go on holiday/won't have any clothes to go in/won't have anyone to look after pets/etc/etc), Open University stuff (will fail the course unless I catch up with the three units I'm behind and get my TMA done before we leave).

OK. Deep breath. Less timewasting, more organisation, less blogging and general online stuff, more work.

Eurgh!

Having a bit of a down week. Nothing wrist-slashingly major, just that all the things I've been putting off are catching up with me and leading to a generalised feeling of dread and incapability (is that a word?). However, I'll start knocking things off the list one at a time, and I'm moderately confident that life will be sunny again before you can say "You have eaten my best friend's goat" in Albanian (if you are Albanian or a fluent Albanian speaker, it might be slightly longer).

Last night we continued our mission to find an Italian restaurant for Rachel's birthday. So far we've tried La Dolce Vita in Hamble and Reggina's in Botley. La Dolce Vita have live music on Wednesdays, when we went, so we had to put up with a slightly annoying singer, but the food and service were good and it was reasonably priced. Last night at Reggina's we were put on a table near to the kitchen and the main entrance (despite having booked) so there was lots of coming and going right next to us, which wasn't conducive to relaxation. Although it looked more upmarket than La Dolce Vita, the food was not as nice and the service was indifferent, and it cost more. We'll see what else we can find between now and Rachel's birthday.

I thought I'd give Facebook a go, since Si has been saying how good it is for keeping in touch with people. I have to say it's not a site for the miserable and socially incompetent, simply reinforcing that everyone else has more friends than I do, and that they're all closer and more relaxed with each other than I will ever be. I'll give it a go, but as someone who finds it hard to do social networking in real life, it doesn't come easily online.

Fed up

Nobody puts any comments on Conversation, even when I email and ask them to. Most of the people who come don't seem to look at, never mind contribute to, the site. Visitor numbers do peak when I ask people to visit but half of them turn out to be random strangers.

I have teenage sons who moan when asked to do anything and don't appreciate what I do.

I have too much to do.

I feel miserable and hopeless, with the general feeling that things will pretty much carry on the same; not terrible but always vaguely not good enough.

Thirtysomething

Today is my last day of being thirtyanything; I don't feel quite as bad as I did but I'm still feeling kind of hopeless and what's-the-pointish. I'm at work today, having had two days off with stomach cramps and diarrhoea, and I'm looking at all the various stuff I've got to do and thinking how little I care about it. I'm sure that I can talk myself into seeing that doing these things will be useful for someone; it's just that my main (or only) motivation is to not get sacked because we need the money. I'm not sure how long it's possible to sustain working in a job that (a) I don't care about and (b) makes me feel physically sick with anxiety when I come into the building. I had a plan to try and earn money from creative writing, and once I had found someone who would pay me, to give up some hours in this job to have more time to write, etc; unfortunately I'm too busy/tired/miserable to get on with the writing, meaning that that plan may be a non-starter.

I'm going to see a hypnotherapist on Friday, who was recommended by my chiropractor; we'll see if his optimism is justified - he reckons he can have me feeling more positive in 5 or 6 sessions. Maybe just getting past the 40 barrier tomorrow will help; I've got a list of things I'd like to achieve, though I'm struggling to believe that I'll ever turn them from "things I'd like to do" to "things I've done".

40

So now I'm counting the days I have left: 20 days (including today) of being thirtysomething. This is the first birthday I've ever had that I've not wanted to celebrate. I wasn't looking forward much to 30, but I had a party (probably the first successful party I ever organised) and in the end it was OK. But now it feels as though my life is ending. I know that this is partly because I'm feeling a bit miserable, and I know that plenty of people have achieved things when they're older than 40 - I am, by the way, finding it increasingly hard not to slap people who say "Life begins at 40" - and I'm sure that the day after my birthday I'll wake up and do exactly the same things as I did the day before my birthday, but nonetheless I can't help feeling that that's it: life is over, from now on it's simply existing. I'm not likely to start a new career, despite the fact that I have longer to work before 65 than I have worked since I was 18; I'll continue to be adequate at some things, but I'm unlikely now to ever excel in anything; all the aches and pains I have now will most likely either continue or get worse, rather than improve or disappear; my thoughts about God's plan for my life are complex but usually come down to an assumption that he wants me to just do the best I can, where I am, with what I've got and I'm not doing very well so far.

The enemies of blogging

The enemies of blogging are busyness, tiredness and depression. Busyness, by itself, is not necessarily an obstacle to blogging. After all, a short post only takes a few minutes, and being busy means that there's plenty to blog about. Tiredness, equally, will not in itself stop any blog owner from writing that he is tired, or that she has done many things, and now she is worn out. If I still eat and drink and walk around the house when tired, then surely I can manage a little light keyboard tapping. Tiredness and busyness, alas, come together; not an insurmountable obstacle, but when blogging is last on a very long list of things to do, chances are it may fall off the list altogether. All it takes is to add the last ingredient to this poisonous cocktail, and the blog takes to bed, surrounded by grieving relatives. The most insidious aspect, I know from experience, of being mildly but chronically depressed, is the feeling that manifests itself in the phrase "I just can't be bothered". It's late, I'm tired, I still have things to do, and I'd really like to blog. I enjoy blogging. Blogging makes me feel good, gives me a sense of achievement and a connection to the outside world. But I look at the time, I look at the stack of ironing, and I look at the computer and I think "I just can't be bothered".

P.S. Sorry about the prose style of this post; I've been looking at Norman Rockwell pictures.