Witness to withness #3

It is early in March 2012 and it is difficult to assess how I continue to survive feelings of disconnection. I believe I am not only running out of time, but out of breath. Part of my dissonance involves struggle with a physical illness. I walk into the doctor office and am told that I need to be ready to go to the emergency room if my oxygen level gets any lower. She lets me know through various tests and xrays I have fibrosis in the lungs. I am advised to get a cat scan, but we have no resources to pay for it. After reading about it I am overcome with fear that this could be something bad as cancer.

Work is a different kind of challenge. I am currently floating, which means that after six years of trying to make an impression I am muddying through minimum wage until my security company finds me another post. Tomorrow I will be at the Sprint Center for the big twelve tournament. I have indulged in a diet of sports in an attempt to escape my fears. The Boston Red Sox, my childhood baseball team tied their game, the Boston Celtics were beaten badly by Philadelphia. And I am not heavily invested in any Kansas City team. Attending to sports is an effort to believe I belong somewhere. I am closer to a place called home than I think. The only problem is that I currently am living in Kansas City not Boston.

Relationally I am doing ok with Sharon, my wife. She just got a new kitten that we have named Tiggy. She calls all her cats "Sweetie". We call each other Sweetie. It is fun to think of ourselves as the mom and dad of two cats. With everyone else in my world I feel isolated. At the moment I think of my Dad's brother George and his own perception of what family is. I am reminded of a his rebuke of elder brother Eric. He was so irate at him he never attended his funeral. I am an oldest son myself and wonder how I am so different. I have been away from my family in Massachusetts for over five years now. I have had trouble getting/keeping in touch with my musician son Tim. After talking to my brother Craig I felt like maybe I should not have called. The tone of voice communicated "(we) have enough problems of our own." I listen to the Boston teams and I daily try to see what is going on with family using facebook. Puzzle solving is another way I feel better about myself. Thank God I have the newspaper on this day. Time will tell how I attain a renewed sense of victory.

What possesses one to swim in the quagmire of emotional illness? I think part of it is the passion to be more than others will ever see you to be. During my hospitalizations over thirty years ago I found escape in the book of Revelation. At my best(manic) I felt I was one of the two Witnesses in the Chapter 11 of Revelation. I only needed another to go with me on the ride. At my worst, I saw myself as“the beast” described in Revelation. I am defeated. Hope for the saints can not be far away. My Christian learnings taught me that depression and sharing of good news do not mix. If I am not the good guy, then I must be the bad guy.
Even today I go from one extreme to another. At present work stress moves me into feeling depressed and the feeling I for some reason deserve it. I want sympathy. I present myself as a poor soul that needs a friend. The only problem is that most people tire of this game and they will dismiss me after giving a sprig of poor “Gary”. I feel much worse and not better. I find glimpses of hope. I went to Willard Avenue Baptist church the other day and felt like I belonged. It felt good being around people who remembered me and at the end of the day wrote me down as an important phone number. So here I am determining to make the most of another day. I seek reality in the midst of managing my bipolar illness. I long for spiritual awakening and the energy from within to work toward my lifetime goal of becoming more human. I pray what is left of my breath leads others toward a desire for more abundant life. Come closer and experience the breath that God has put within me. May it bring you back to life in the same way God has allowed the breath of God's Spirit to give me hope. In time the same God who can allow the light can put it back on. I look forward to the celebration that draws all persons in closer relationship to all that lives, flows and breathes.