I am so sick of myself I could cry. Seriously, I wish I could get away from myself for a few days. And that longing leads me to wonder (and fear) that if I need a break from myself so badly, what about the people around me? How in the world are they putting up with me? I spend most of my time with some of the greatest people breathing and really can’t understand how they can stand me.
I mean I am sick of me. I’m sick of hearing myself talk. Sick of the useless things I talk about. I’m sick of my habits. I’m sick of my laziness and apathy. I am sick of how critical I am and how quickly I judge others. Who the heck am I to judge anyone on anything?
I want to get away from myself. I know that we are supposed to die to ourselves daily in order to live for Christ. That to live, we must die. And I’ve been claiming to want to be “less” for some time. But I haven’t. I am still as self consumed as ever. It’s like I keep sucking myself back in. Like there is part of me, the part of me writing this, that wants to die (figuratively) and get out of the way. And then another, more compelling and natural part of me who just won’t have that. There’s a part of me that wants to be a big deal and another part that wants to die.
But it’s not natural to want to die. Human beings have survival instincts that cause us to fight tooth and nail with death. We know that it will eventually happen to everyone, that it’s “part of life”, but I don’t think we fully accept the reality that it will actually happen to us personally. And how can we embrace something we don’t believe exists? (Just to be clear, I am drawing parallels between figurative and literal death- the former being the kind I’m claiming to want. There will be no need to talk me down from a ledge.) So how then can I die to my Self if I don’t believe in the possibility to do so? And by the way, I don’t have an answer to that. I wasn’t setting myself up to spew awe-provoking brilliance with that question. Though, I’m sure I would have if I did have an answer.
I don’t really have a good way to end this- It’s just something I needed to get off my chest. So I’ll just end by apologizing for you having to put up with me. The fact I’m even publishing this makes the part of me that wrote it sick, and completely proves its point. In fact, it makes me wonder if the part of me who wrote this even exists at all or if it was just made up by the other part of me in order to convince itself that I have something that resembles a heart.
Confused and a little frightened? Me too.