Personal ~
Dear reader ~
Please believe me when I say that I honestly trust you with my innermost thoughts. And it’s for this reason that I sometimes speak with such an openness ; that is, conversational, and with all filters: off. That being said, let it be known that I’m truly not looking to bash on my pops with any of the following. I’m just wanting to share a bit of what’s going on with yours truly, and convey a few conclusions that I’ve subsequently drawn. So here goes~
It’s winter. Well, California winter. I realize there’s a difference. Nevertheless, I’m always cold, and in a lot of physical pain. In my lower back and both feet —> excruciating. It feels as if my feet are being tightly clamped down in a vice or something. At times, I get shooting pains running down my legs to my toes, making an oh- so- brief pit stop to terrorize the arch of my foot. The nurse at my pain doctor’s office usually asks me where the pain rates on a one- to- ten scale. “Nine”, I usually reply. I balk at saying “ten”, knowing there’s gotta be a worse suffering somewhere in this world, and I don’t want the medical pros thinking that I’m drama. Anyhoo~ nearly two years now, but ‘they’ can’t seem to figure it out. It’s probably some sort of nerve damage/ neuropathy.
So I’m sitting here only half awake in a doctor’s office in Fresno, California. {Now, for those of you possibly unfamiliar with the city of Fresno, well. . . as they say, “you’re lucky”. Suffice it to say, the town is a bona fide craphole;} And if you can believe it, dear reader, they’ve just started infecting the room I’m stuck in with some seriously dreadful country music. I shit you not. I’m smirking, though one might dare to inquire, “How could things get much worse?!?
Well, my dad is dying. It’s true. Ever heard of something called Coronavirus or Covid*19? Yeah? Well, it’s not that. My pop actually suffers from something the professional MDs call Hepatic Encephalopathy. It stems from a damaged liver, [from too much booze > mid-level vodka to be specific], and now he’s fading both mentally and physically at an exponential rate. (Maybe not to the extent of Joe Biden, but it’s rough nevertheless. And unlike Creepy Joe, my pops has had a few redeeming qualities in life;) I really don’t even know how much time he’s got left, but it’s been torturous watching his descent these past few months. Truly heart- breaking.
I’ve loved him so much~
However, to be completely honest, in mind and spirit, he’s not even the same person anymore. This one, this “version”, is beyond difficult. He’s willfully and deliberately combative, like a spoiled man-child, and gets angry and personally insulting at every turn. So much so, in fact, that it’s hard not to wish for his demise at times, though my loyalty to the man I know still resides somewhere within, trumps all of the BS. Plus, I know it’s what God wants of me. Even though the ‘Dad’ that I’ve shared so many great times with is hardly here. Like I’ve said, he’s just fading away.
What’s more, dear reader ~ I haven’t even mentioned that we’re down to our last two hundred n’ four bucks, and that we’ll soon be having to put his dogs down for various reasons. But those details almost seem trivial at the moment. I dunno. I’m just overwhelmed. Exhausted. And I just kind of feel like crying all the time now. {I know. Boo- hoo. Poor Mateo, eh?} Sorry. I’m really just hard- timing it here.
Thing is, I know God could “remedy” everything at any time, and [[ snap ]] just like that. So I’m praying for mercy all the time.
‘Course, adding to my burden a bit, is knowing that I too could help myself to some relief, but that would also mean compromising my faith in God, which I’m REALLY not wanting do. Though I will admit, dear reader, I’m consistently tempted. Seemingly hangin’ by a thread. In certain ways , I’m incredibly strong in my faith. In others, not- so- much. Sooo~ I’m praying and praying. Sighing. Rubbing my face in my hands. . . { Having a pity party! :}
Regardless, I refuse to ask God for any explanation as to why any of us should have to endure such things, or why He created pain or hardship in the first place. Though these may be fine questions, I genuinely understand that He has His reasons. I do. And He really doesn’t have to answer to me or anyone else anyway. Mind you, not only do I acknowledge The Lord’s Sovereignty in all things, I genuinely know God for Who He Is. So I suppose the pivotal point is this:
I don’t know why certain things are happening, and I may never know why. But I do know God.
I pray that this doesn’t sound like a lame excuse, or a simple sidestep of the situation at hand, dear reader. It isn’t.
Yet recognizing and embracing God for all that He Is, truly is the simplest remedy to one’s anxiety . Plus, the best plan in providing the necessary inspiration in order to power through . Too many words?
Many thanks for hearing me out, dear reader~
Mateo