A sad day

I have my mix of good and bad days. Sunday was not a good day. It started off by waking up at 6AM after going to bed at 4AM because I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed till 9AM, when I decided that I would indeed get changed and go to church. This was a mistake on my part. I should've stayed home. If there's one place that reminds you just how alone in the world you are, it's church. My church is entirely filled with families. The only people in church by themselves are widows, widowers, and me. Then, for some reason, I got to thinking, and start weeping in public. I got all teary-eyed and I couldn't stop. It was just a multitude of things that just sort of added up all at a bad time.

Part of what got me was thinking about my family who've passed away, and about a lot of my patients who have not fared so well. How unfair that is. How unfair that all the patients who are kind and generous and friendly and I would love to see every morning on rounds for the rest of my life, it's these people that end up dying from something terrible. That's not fair. You live your life and you be the best person you can be, and all that good karma, all that noble living, it affords you no dignity. How cruel does life really have to be, that to be robbed of it should be so ugly.

Part of what got me today was the fact that I've abandoned my dreams for myself. I've given up on things that I thought were my future. And it's always a sad day when you abandon your dreams. It's always a downer to realize that your life is nothing like you thought it would be, and not in that good way. If you asked me 10 years ago where I'd be now, this wouldn't be it. My life has turned out not at all liked I had planned or hoped. And now I'm just coasting. I'm not even trying anymore. In all things, I put in a mediocre effort. Why should I try. Trying has not gotten me anywhere in the past. With strong or poor effort, I get the same result, and often a result I didn't want anyway.

And part of what got me today was just being lonely. Just knowing that I've spent so much of my life alone. Just knowing that I've never been able to share my heart with another person. You know, I've lived my life pretty much entirely based on two fears: (1) the fear that my life is meaningless and pointless, and (2) the fear of being alone. And it seems like no matter how I stack up the cards, I've just played into my fears, because I am alone, and my life is meaningless and pointless. I used to believe in destiny, in fate. I believed that there really was a person that was 'meant' for you. I feel that I must be unlovable. I can't come up with a better explanation. I can't think of a better reason as to why I should meet with so much failure. I'm entirely without hope in this matter now. I have no aspirations of a wife and kids and a house in the burbs. I have no aspirations at all.

I really don't know what keeps me going. I'm not motivated or inspired. I'm just coasting, and maybe it's just that I'm still riding some momentum from my teen years. I don't know. And I think the cruelest irony of religion is the idea that if your life sucks, you're not allowed to end it. I'm not sure I'm going to go to church next week. Or the week after that. I've only ever missed church a few times a year, and that's a streak that's been going on since I was a kid. I'm not sure I've ever missed church for two weeks in a row. But the last time I went to confession was five years ago. I was told by my priest that I was angry with God. I told him (not in so many words) that he was full of shit. Well, it took me a few years to realize just how angry with God I really was. How angry I was that I could have a life I hated so much, without any ability to end it. How angry I was that my life was without meaning or purpose. And nothing's changed. That is perhaps the worst part. I stare into the mirror and still, the guy staring back at me is the same teenage kid who had to try so very hard just to make it through the day, who had to cling onto anything just to keep from thinking about killing himself. That kid, he needed saving. He needed direction and purpose and hope. Me? Ten years too late.

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