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Fiftysix.Prophecy.Sixthmaytwothousandtwelve.

Didn’t mean to post two entries in the same day.  Supposing I get this out by midnight. But, the way I was feeling earlier, I wanted to make space for those emotions and document them.

Now that we got THAT out the way…

I’m looking for a job right now.  I’m looking to try things other than the usual ones I apply for.  So, I wish to present my qualifications for the position of:

Prophet.

I was at the men’s meeting when the associate pastor said that I was so engulfed in my sin that in order to make any difference at all, I had to completely starve out everything that fed it.  And I wan’t willing to do it.  Haven’t been the entire time I attended that church and that men’s group.  So, he prayed that God would remove His protection from me so that I would experience the full brunt of my sin and come to the point that I would surrender to God.  Thing is, I don’t know what could happen to get me to that point.  I wanted to get the process of loss and suffering over with, but I still don’t see that I’d be willing to surrender anywhere in there.

So, I see myself losing my car.  The lemon I’d bought with the insurance money from the car that I was having problems with that got totaled at work?  That lemon is gone.  The money from the lemon is gone.  And I didn’t recoup the money from the lemon getting towed.  And the new car still isn’t ready.  And that’s an old car that’s pretty much on borrowed time already.

I see myself losing my job.  Gone.  Laid off.  I have an orientation with Kelly Tuesday for Glad, then a safety walkthrough at the plant on Thursday.  But, my schedule there will likely conflict with things I do regularly now.  But, it pays better than unemployment.  My prime concerns now are that the schedule will interfere with things I have planned now and with all the days off built in, it’s a bit hard to asks for days off that you are working.  At least I think it is, but I don’t want to ask right off the bat.

I see myself losing my possessions.  My last check came last week.  I still have to pay phone bill and I want to pay my credit card bill, and the cab’s down to three quarters of a tank.  And I still have to pay cell phone bill and light bill by the end of the month, and then rent is due again and the cycle restarts with the water bill thrown in.  And I don’t know definitely when my next income is coming in.

Oh, there is the bit that I saw myself losing my job and somehow being rendered ineligible for unemployment.  Got rebuttal on that one last Wednesday, I am getting just under two fiddy a week.  Just enough to pay the bills.  But, if Glad offers me a job and they want me to work nights this weekend, that’s thirty six hours. And, that’ll supersede any unemployment payment I’d get for the week.  Thought this week would be the first week I got a check, since they make you go a week without getting a check before you get your first one and they told me to file for last week. But, last week was the last week I worked, so this may be the waiting week.  So, that’ll mean no income until about the nineteenth, which will give me two checks to pay rent, lights and cell.

Not impossible, I guess, but…

Ah, SCREW prophet, it’s a depressing job.

Oh, yeah, birthday.

So, the Sodality was planning a showing of The Avengers at the mall and dinner afterwards.  But, we couldn’t make it happen because everyone else had something come up.  So, I ended up seeing it at the plaza. And had a blast.  Then went out with the ex and friends for Chinese. And the girl in the couple from Fet who visited my ex has a birthday Tuesday.  And for her birthday, he’s letting my ex have her.  And, I get to help. Don’t know what’s gonna happen.

Oh, and I got me some new shoes.

Needed a new pair because I’ve been wearing the old ones for almost four years.  Got them back when I was working at Westminster Canterbury through Shoes for Crews, which is a company that makes work shoes and lets you pay directly from your check.  And, I’d already gotten use to slip ons at Texas Roadhouse.  I like just slipping the shoe on and not having to worry about shoe laces.  But at the dirty (Cycle Systems,) we have to wear steel toes. And, I got some cheap fifty dollar boots. Which works out, because after three months you get the benefit of getting fifty bucks back on your check when you turn in the receipt from buying steel toe boots twice a year.  Wish I’d have gotten around to getting a new pair before I got laid off. Because now I have a pair with over a year of abuse from the yard that I do not feel like wearing to Glad.  But anyway, I hadn’t bought a new pair of shoes because I don’t want a pair with laces.  Laces come undone when it’s cold and rainy and muddy.  Then after you take your gloves off to tie them, they come undone again.

I hate shoe laces.

So, I’m in the Shoe Dept by Sears after I’d gotten the rebate for my ticket to the mall showing and had bought my plaza ticket on my phone. And I see the Fila version of the Vibram Five Fingers, the Fila version called Skeletoes.  And I ask the girl working at the store how the Skeletoes are one half to one third the price of the Vibrams.  Are they any good?  She explains that the Vibrams have a special insole that’s another patent, so you’re paying for two name brands instead of one. And she said people like the Filas.  So, I tried one on.  And it felt ok.  In a ten.  I wear ten and a half, but they didn’t have half sizes despite the fact I thought I’d seen one.  So, I try the eleven just to check it. And it fits better!  So, I got a pair of Fila Skeletoes, picture pending. But, now I have buyer’s remorse.  That I paid forty bucks for them, and check my finances after and had less than I expected.  And there’s a good chuck that’s kind of in limbo until I can pay for the car.  Feel like they’re not gonna last, like even at five bucks off they were overpriced. And I still need a pair of steel toes.

But, birthday, prophecy, shoes and depression was my week…

Fiftyfive.feel.Sundaysixtymaytwothousandtwelve.

Was thinking I’d be out with friends right now.

Had a meeting for the convention.  The friends I usually ride with had a full car as my ex met a new guy she brought to the meeting along with another friend, so I didn’t want to overcrowd the car.  Another friend offered to give me a ride. But, I didn’t get to see anyone outside the meeting.  We arrived just before and left right after.  Think everyone went to eat after the meeting, but they asked everyone who wasn’t on the board to leave the room so that they could finish up business and my ride was leaving so I left.  Wanted to stay and go eat, but I still didn’t want to overcrowd the car or make my ride stay if she wanted to leave.  And it’s about an hour drive, so walking’s out and I doubt no one else goes to the meetings from out here.  And I still don’t have my car back, so I’m still borrowing my mom’s and I don’t want to have to put an hour’s drive of gas back into the V-8.

So, I’m at home.  Lonely.  Hating myself.  Blaming myself.  Beating myself up.

Why?

Could be the dropoff from yesterday.

Yesterday was my birthday.  The Lynhburg group from FetLife (love this name:  the Lynchburg Social Sodality!) had plans to see “The Avengers” at the mall.  But, one by one, people dropped out.  My ex, who’d proposed it, dropped out when her boyfriend ended up having to work the day shift (he usually works nights on Saturday.)  Most people talked about other commitments.  One guy said he’d been banned from the mall.  But when I saw an event page, I mistook a broad window for a definite showtime so I bought a ticket, not knowing no one else had confirmed.  And I really didn’t want to go see the movie alone, especially with looking forward to the social event.

Stopped by the community market that morning and saw the friends I usually meet there.  One of them said they were going to the plaza to see the movie. I said the plaza only had it in 3-D (which, I may yet see it in 3-D, but my ex’s boyfriend hates 3-D.  I have never seen a movie in 3-D and wouldn’t mind trying this one in 3-D, but oh well.)  Anyway, my friends at the community market confirmed that there was indeed a 2-D showing. So I went to the mall and waited for anyone to show up, and no one did.  So, I got my ticket refunded (major props and thanks to Regal Cinemas 14 at River Ridge mall for that, by the way) and went to the plaza, where a couple other friends showed up and we thoroughly enjoyed the film.  Maybe more on that later, don’t want to break the mood.  Just stay through the credits.

So, after that, went over the ex’s. She had the new friend over that I mentioned earlier, and he’d been massaging her feet all afternoon.  He’s pretty cool.  We waited for he boyfriend to get home and another couple from Fet called and we all went out for Chinese because the girl from the visiting couple’s birthday is Tuesday.

So, today, I was looking forward to hanging out again and maybe getting a little belated bday love but it did not happen.  Got my hopes up after yesterday.  Felt the whole week that I would be disappointed by how things turned out this weekend.  Yesterday bucked the trend, but today was a return to form, and I am just low.  Feeling unloved, unwanted and in the way.  And when I feel like I’m in the way, I just get the fuck out the way and go mind my own damn business.  I don’t wanna be a burden on anyone.  But, I am lonely and want to feel like I’m wanted.  But, I feel like I shouldn’t have to say it.  If I have to say it, I’m whining and then I really don’t deserve it.  No one wants a whiner.  But, what am I left to do?  What can I do?  Will it make any difference?

That takes me to church.  In a bad way.

The lady of the couple I’ve been (used) to ride to church with has been reaching out to me to get me back to church.  I know she’s concerned, but I am not ready and I don’t know that I will be.  I’m not ready to talk to her about it because I’m not ready to share all about it.  I want to know how the people going to church are doing.  How school and work are going for Brian, since he’s doing stuff at church and working a full time job on top of school so he doesn’t have a load of student debt that could hold him back if a ministry opportunity came up.  I wanna know how Hank’s business is going.  I wanna know how everyone is doing. But, I don’t want to have to be forced to go into my relationship with Christ, which I know they’ll bring up.  And they won’t be likely to let me go without encouraging me to come back to church.

The woman I used to ride with left a birthday present by my mom’s house.  A picture that I believe used to hang on their wall with I Peter 2:24 - Who his own self bare our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness: by whose stripes we are healed.  And a card that had Palm 118:24 (This is the day that the Lord hath made: we will rejoice and be glad in it. She also posted that one on my Facebook wall) and a sticker with Joshua 1:5 (Therefore shall not any man be able to stand before thee all the days of thy life: as I was with Moses, so I will be with thee: I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.)

And confetti.  Got that on my mom’s sofa and in the carpet.

I think the gift was what turned the mood from celebratory back to somber.

So much going through my head.  I’d come to the conclusion that the church wants me to surrender my life.  But then, have I really ever taken control of my life?  Everything I’ve ever done, I’ve pretty much taken what was available.  Never done much thinking about what I want to do, just what could I do.  Don’t always say what I want to do when someone else probably wants to do something else.  Never dated because I figure no one wants me because if they’re attractive to me, they’ve already attracted who they want and are happy.  But, I never go for what I want.  Never even figure out what I want.

Now, I’m back in the mood I’m in when I think about church. Like what I want doesn’t matter.  That I have no power to affect change in my life that doesn’t lead to total disaster.

And whenever anyone else wants to do something, even something that I don’t want, I just go along with it because I don’t want to impose.

My ex said that the girl that I was interested in but when I chatted, we were looking for different things (she was looking for a partner who wouldn’t sit around all day playing video games and I couldn’t guarantee her I wouldn’t sit around all day playing video games so I didn’t, and I need more of a guide and don’t know that I have the strength to be a partner for her.  She has a partner now, and I’m happy for her.)  The ex said the girl said that if I want to fuck someone, I should tell them.  That they can’t read my mind.  But I know for a fact that you do NOT just walk up to people and say, I wanna fuck.  You have to work your way up to that.

And again, I don’t know if they want to.  And most girls want more than a one night stand. Which I do, too, but they want to get married.  And I’m not ready for that, but I still want sex.

I hope the whole year isn’t like this…

Fiftyfour.Forward.Sundaytwentynineapriltwothousandtwelve.

A bit of an addendum to my last post…

I was chatting with a friend who’d read and said I’d basically asked them to fire.

Lemme clarify.  I work(ed) in a booth about five and a half, six feet off the ground on one side of the yard, maybe couple hundred feet from the main office, with stairs up to it and room for three big metal bins under it for materials.  There are converors leading to and from it.  The only communication with the outside since the radio the line leader had kept messing up is a phone line to the tower where the operate the big shredder that feeds into the booth.  So, the only people who heard me say that I’d wish they’d get it over with are three other guys working with me on the line (the line leader had left the line to watch other belts and I don’t remember ever seeing him again before I left.)  Granted, one guy is an alleged snitch, but I don’t remember him leaving the line, and I doubt he has his own radio, anyway (he couldn’t use it discretely in the booth anyway.)  The booth is maybe about eleven feet by fourteen feet, a door on either side, two conveyors in the middle with a shelf separating them.  And, they recently reconfigured the booth, cutting off about the back six feet or so to better isolate the noise from the material falling on the line.  So, very unlikely management would’ve known what I’d just said.  Just happened that after I’d said it, I got what I wanted.

Now, I’m just trying not to be totally bummed out about it.

I have about a week to see if the next page of the prophecy comes true.  Applied for unemployment online Friday.  They said they’ll mail me something within a week.  So, it’s gonna be a long week.  Doesn’t help that my birthday happens to be Saturday.  I’ll either be relieved that I’ll have some income or panicked and trying to sell everything I own to keep the rent and essential bills paid.  Thing is, I don’t anything terribly valuable.  All my stuff is old.  And used.

So, yeah.  Prophecy.

I have a partial check for last week coming that should take care of car insurance and home phone.  The next bill due will be credit card bill on about the twentieth.  That’s also the cheapest outside of the water bill, which is only due every other month.  After that, the light bill, rent again,cell phone and car insurance, and by that time they’ll start asking about the water bill and house phone again.  I usually spread them throughout the month, but without steady income to take care of them they’ll hit me all at once.

And I just can’t shake this paranoia that somehow the money won’t be there.

Possibly something to do with church.  Not that my church is super Evangelical conservative, but the political climate nationwide is ugly and I happen to live in a rather conservative area thereof, this being the home of the late Dr. Jerry Falwell and his Thomas Road Baptist Church and Liberty University.  And with all that’s going on with my sexuality vs spirituality struggle/tantrum, I often somehow fall in with those who equate Christianity with political conservatism.  I feel bad that I’m one of those (hoping to) “live off of my hard earned taxes and just sit at home doin’ nothin’ and expectin’ a handout!  Git off yer ass an’ git a damn JOB!”

Like it’s that easy.  Were it, I wouldn’t have gotten laid off Thursday.  I wouldn’t have been there for them to lay me off, I’d be somewhere totally different.

I just can’t shake the feeling that by not repenting of my lusts and surrendering to God, I’m not in His will, which means that nothing good will happen until that happens.  Not just that I’m “goin’ ta HAY-UUUUULLLLLL-UH”  But, that nothing will go right until I live my life according to His will.  No clue what that is.  I just have to surrender all sin, pray, read scripture and get in fellowship with others who are following Him until He tells me what to do, then do it.  Immediately. Without question.  Then await further instructions.

I don’t do terribly too much immediately without question.  Even a splurge has been planned out weeks, if not months in advance, researching, ensuring that it’s a worthwhile purchase, trying to find a good deal on it, trying to ensure that I can afford it comfortably.  I like to take time to weigh pros and cons, risk vs reward.  And, all I see in the decision to abandon all my lust, or to come to the point where I want to give them up and enter sexual addiction treatment to get my life in line with the purity that He desires, is…  Well, not necessarily RISK per se.  If I believe, there is definitely reward.  But, I only see that reward as being “by an’ by when the mo’nin’ come.”  Meanwhile, I see a constant struggle for the rest of my born days to reprogram and amputate a good chuck of who I have become and who I think I may be.  That’s not even counting the outside influences of the economy and prospects for employment and housing.  Those things become inconsequential compared to relationship with the God who owns the universe and us as well. We become His, and all our needs are taken care of, we just need to be obedient to Him and everything else is taken care of.

Easy to say when you truly are in His will.  But me…

So yeah, it’s really rough right now.  Not to mention that with church (which I’ve been avoiding to get away from the men’s group), and now work gone, I’ve lost two of my primary social outlets (even though I ain’t like most o’ them fools at work.)  I’ve got the photo club (which meets twice a month) and the group from Fet (which also meets twice a month, and one of those conflicts with the second photo club meeting.)  And since I’m still stuck with the V-8 with the the twenty gallon tank that’s running premium (still waiting for the lady to bring in the title signed in the right place) I’m gonna try to do as much of my job search from home online as possible not to blow gas.  Which has me stuck at the house in the middle of the country.  Not exactly BFE, but a good hour walk to Walmart and maybe two hours in the opposite direction downtown.  And I don’t live in walking distance of anyone I’m really eager to visit. And yeah, I admit that’s bad, as I live surrounded by family.  I just don’t really know most of them and don’t really have much to say to most of them.  Yeah, my mom lives next door.  But she’s mom.  I’m used to her chewing me out for stuff, which she STILL does to this day!

So, priority one is to get out of the house more.  Tried doing it this weekend.  Succeeded a little.  Got downtown to a screening of “Milking The Rhino” Friday night.  A documentary about tribes in Africa whose land has been converted to wildlife preserves, and how now the government is trying letting the people use the land usually owned by white land owners and giving them a stake in protecting the wildlife.  It was interesting.  Enjoyed it.  Saturday morning, I made it out to see a couple friends at the community market and got some groceries.  Today, yeah, I skipped church.  Went to an open house at some galleries downtown.  These particular galleries only open twice a year as opposed to that artist commune that opens monthly.  Saw a couple familiar faces, got to take a group photo of them and got some good food.  After that, I went to a picnic sponsored by the local Bikram Yoga studio.  They moved it to the park for threat of rain, but the day turned out pretty.  Good food there, too.  Thankfully, no soy dogs (either eat a hot dog or don’t eat a hot dog!)  Awesome quinoa salads.  Wish I’d have gotten the recipes.  Decent burgers and sausage dogs, too.

Between the two, I saw the town’s Occupy movement on the corner of the park.  Stopped to take a picture. A few things stuck me.

- Normally when you think of the Occupy movement, you think of young folks. (“Spoiled rich kids who want everything handed to them instead of having to work for it.”)  This group was all elderly people.  

- They had more signs than people.  So, I came over and held one for a bit.  So, does that mean I’m with the movement.  I’d actually be kind of honored.

- Even with this being the home of the late Dr. Jerry Falwell and his Thomas Road Baptist Church and Liberty University, we got one person drive by and yell that were were idiots.  One person give us a thumbs down (and reportedly another person did as well.  One person give us a middle finger.  And, several people waving and smiling, with many honking their horns and voicing support.  Did my heart good. 

Now, I don’t want to redistribute all the wealth and punish people for succeeding.  I only want more people to have a chance to succeed.  I am the 99.  I don’t think it would be so bad if the top one percent became the top five percent, and that the other 95 or so percent could at least have enough to get by, and not have to rely on government programs to make it look like one side is getting screwed.  I’d like for more of those who have made it to help more make it and lift everyone higher.

But then, I never really have had much of a grip on reality…

Fiftythree.Forthebenefit.Twentysixthapriltwothousandtwelve.

New chapter.  The page was turned for me.

Didn’t work a full day all week.  Stayed all day Monday and Tuesday, but Monday they jammed the machine up about a half hour before time to go, and Tuesday there was a big explosion that shut it down (it happens.  The part of the machine where the explosion occurs is maybe two, three stories up, and no one goes close to it when it’s running, so there’s usually no one close enough to it to get hurt when it happens.  Biggest concern is putting out the fire before that does damage to the belts and stuff.)

Wednesday was long and emotional.  The machine was up and running again when we first go in, but was shut down by nine.  Electrical problems.  We cleaned up our area and outside (which our line leader doesn’t like, as that’s second shift’s job.)  Then, we sit around hiding in the booth waiting for them to send us home.  And put up with bad jokes and rumors of layoffs.They finally let us go a bit after one, but not before saying that we were working 6:30-4:30 the rest of the week. Which means an hour earlier bedtime.

Then, I go to my aunt’s because my mom’s staying over there for a bit.  She had knee reconstructive surgery a week ago.  Surgery went well and she’s coming home by week’s end.  I was told to come and sit with her while my aunt went to choir practice, but turns out she ended up not having to go.  I was chastised for not having visited, though.  Not good with that sort of thing, though, especially with it being my mom.  Helped her do exercises with her knee (and decided I probably don’t have much of a future in physical therapy,) glanced over at “The Rifleman” and left.  With another lecture from my aunt, this time about how I should invest in a car, because I should be able to afford a car payment.  I let her know about my hours being cut and the impending layoffs.  She told me to cut out buying games and crap and put everything that’s not bills into savings since they’re talking about layoffs.

But, I haven’t even been BUYING any games since my hours have been cut and they’re talking about layoffs.

Ok, I bought Mass Effect 3.  Collector’s Edition. A month and a half ago, and that was preordered.  Last three games I bought totaled  about twenty eight bucks, and two were on sale for less than ten a pop!  I got over a dozen games I’m working on right now.  Most of my money goes to gas and bills, with very little left over, especially with borrowing mom’s V-8, twenty gallon tank, premium gas to cope with rattling valves, former taxi cab Grand Marquis while I wait for the mechanic to finish the Toyota.  There was what I bought for Record Store Day when I don’t even have a working record player, but the one record came with a code to download the MP3, the other was two bucks and the CD sampler was free.

I’m not the most responsible or the best with money, but I do have a bit of discipline.

So, I get up after a late night and get to work.  Machine is working.  Turns out it was working about ten minutes or so after we left.  Eventually the conversation goes back to layoffs, and to who should be laid off because they’re essentially taking up space while being paid too much to do nothing.  I mention that I wish they’d lay me off and get it over with.  Tired of hearing about it for months just watching the writing materialize on the wall.  Hearing about bad management decisions and rising gas prices.  Trudging through mud and dealing with cold and heat and dust and rain.

About eight something the yard supervisor comes up to the booth.  He asks me to follow him to his office.  One of the other supervisors is there.  He tells me to have a seat.  He talks about the tough economic climate and assessing where they can best afford to cut costs.

And, I’m cut.

I get an envelope, turn in my hard hat, gloves and safety glasses, go to the breakroom to get my lunch (but leave my dern tea!) clock out, and that’s it.  The page is turned.

I’m trying not to be too emotional about it.  Definitely trying not to let that emotion be crippling fear.  This is, after all, the second page of prophecy fulfilled.  You know, the one where because I can’t bring myself to (or now, even if I do) surrender to God’s will and denounce my sexuality and all my worldly lusts, God will pursue me and strip away all distractions to get my attention.  My car (gone already.)  My job (just left.) Possessions (on their way out if I have no more income.)  And who knows what else.

However, like many prophecies, this one has portions that can be refuted under scrutiny.  The prophecy had me losing my job under circumstances where I would be ineligible for unemployment.  Ok, that one hasn’t been totally busted, because I haven’t been able to sign up because I can’t sign up until after my last day at work, so we’ll see tomorrow.  But, far as I know, I’m still eligible.  Also, I imagined that I’d never get a job again.  Still yet to be seen, but I do have prospects.  When I left yesterday, I stopped by the temp agency to ask about a job I’d had a few years back.  Twelve hour swing shifts on a crazy schedule which may likely interfere with photo club meetings, munches and con meetings, but it’s really not a bad job.  They said that now, they have to do a safety walkthrough first, which only happens Thursdays, so they’ll try to get me in next week or the week after.  And, I’ve been talking to the veteran’s rep at the employment commission, who’s been much more helpful than I thought they were capable of and allowed to be, so kudos, props and thanks to them!  Today, I got a resume written and updated my profile with the veteran’s rep pointing out things that I hadn’t.  Such as, I consider myself having no formal education past high school.  But, not only did I take a semester of classes at community college, but I am a veteran who completed technical training.  I don’t currently hold any certifications, but I had a forklift license for about a year while I was a material handler.  I don’t have to hunt and peck when i type.

I got skills.

And, though I may not have much faith, I do believe in signs and things happening for a reason.  And, it made me happy to hear that the line came up ten minutes after they sent us home.  In stead of, say, them keeping us that ten minutes and then sending us home at 4:30.  Then I would’ve been much less likely to go to the temp service to ask about that job.  Sign that I could be going back to that job?  Don’t know.  I’m not opposed to the idea, though.  Actually wouldn’t be that much of a pay cut.

So, I have some hope.  For now.  Seems to be short lived, but right now, I feel kind of good.  And, I’m in the mood for quotes.

“Don’t feel sorry for me.  You still have to work for that (censored.)”  Big Show to Jonathan Coachman after being traded from Raw to Smackdown during a post match interview.

“I don’t have to wear tights tomorrow, and I’m gonna go eat a whole lot of ice cream tonight!”  Edge, in his retirement speech.

Was a bit emotional watching that video to research that quote.  And I don’t even like Edge that much, but… Wow.

So, I’m gonna try to remember the guys who still have to work for those (censored.)  Who have to be in at 6:30 tomorrow morning.  Who have to deal with the mud and the cold and the dust and the rain and the heat and the metal ripping you clothes and poking through your gloves.  The guys with the hour plus commutes and kids and wives to feed.  I pray that for patience, strength and endurance.  And things getting better.

Now, I’ve been up since five am.  I started nodding talking to the veteran’s rep. I nodded a bit driving home.  And, I am now officially up past bedtime.  I don’t have to be up in three hours and forty nine minutes, so I’m gonna sleep in tomorrow.

Also, I really love the phrase, “For the benefit of those with flash photography…”
 

Fiftytwo.Pupaxposted.Mondaytwentythirdapriltwothousandtwelve

I am in the process of a metamorphosis that I cannot predict whether or not I’ll complete it.
As expressed in earlier entries, I grew up in the church. Haven’t been to my home church in over a decade for regular service, though. Started attending my current church a couple years ago, and soon after got involved with the men’s group. However, I had already started the process of exploring my kinky side when I joined the church. Had an account on alt.com for a bit, but didn’t like the pay structure. Having to pay to do anything other than search members and acknowledge their presence. Then, a woman I met there asked me to sign up for Fet. Much better than alt, but still not alot going on in my area.
A bit over a year ago, I see something about a group on Fet starting in my area. Got to know a couple people in the group, and eventually met someone who became my domme. We played, we fucked, I enjoyed, I learned. But, of course all of this goes against the teachings and commandments of the church. Especially my church. While most I’ve attended have pretty much held a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy on such issues, my church, and the men’s group in particular, are big on transparency and accountability. And, their focus is bringing people closer to Christ. Not, as most churches in the city, just assuming everyone there is a Christian just because they say they are. They actually ask where each individual is with their relationship with God. And, when mine wasn’t growing because of my “problem with lust,” they pushed me to repent of them. And, in their vocabulary, repent does not equal apologize, it means to change your thoughts and actions to stop doing what is wrong. Pray. Read scripture. Pray more. Find guys (shouldn’t be alone with women, lest your lust be stroked) who you can trust and can tell all about what’s going on.
I never could. Never wanted to. And, I never forgave myself. Just kept beating myself up over it. Making myself (and everyone around me) miserable. But, it’s not getting me any closer to God and surrender to His will. I hung around the men’s group waiting for that something, that word, that moment that would cause me to finally surrender. But, I’ve been fighting it because of my ties to all the wonderful people in the lifestyle and all the things I still want to explore. And, recent events have seemed to force my hand in making a choice between kink and church, and of course church can’t lose, because it’s church, so there’s only really one choice. And, until I make that choice, my life will be shit. Because we can only wreck out lives if we try to live them without God.
But, you know what? I never really HAVE tried living my own life. I’ve pretty much done what I’ve been told and floundered where I’ve been too ashamed to ask. Didn’t decide to go into the military, my mom said I was going, wouldn’t even let me apply for financial aid. After that, took what jobs I could find. Don’t often ask girls out, because I’ve gotten rejected too much, and any relationship I undertake, she usually initiates it. Taken whatever I could get without really trying to influence much.
So, it’s going to be rough going, and I am officially soliciting help. I’m looking for a job. Not my dream job (whatever that is,) but one I can stand. One that can’t be done by trained squirrels that can replace me at a moment’s notice. One that isn’t too early, too late, too long, and too much of a commute. One where I can pay bills, buy groceries and play a bit without working too much overtime to do anything but work and sleep.
And, I want to try to start dating. I’ve never actually dated much. I can count three people I’ve went on actual dates with that I wasn’t already sleeping with. And, I’ve slept with five people. With months and years between. I’ve never actively pursed dating. Never thought of myself as very attractive. Well, I sometimes let myself, but for the most part I try to be humble and confuse low self esteem for humility. And, I usual talk myself out of talking to any women I meet. Either she’s married or otherwise taken, already my cousin or other relative (I have way more cousins than I know about) or isn’t interested. And sometimes, one of the above actually applies.
But, now I’ll actually try to get out and date. I honestly don’t know where and how to look. Took a quick glance at profiles from Lynchburg and found alot more profiles than I cared to look through, and some that seemed abandoned. Still have trouble approaching people I see out about, especially since most of the time when I’m out, I’m coming from work and in my dirty, torn clothes that work tears and makes dirty. So, I’m asking for help with that as well. What am I looking for here? Well, I try not to be too picky as I pretty much take what I can get. But, I guess that’s gotten me where I am now, so… As far as appearance, I tend to go for curvier women. I likes titties and ass. I’m about five six, five seven and a half. I’ve mostly been with women shorter than me, but I wouldn’t mind someone taller. Would actually like to date someone taller, just to see what it’s like. I don’t have any preference as far as race, but I’ve never dated a black woman. Just how it’s worked out. Never had one ask me. I’d like to date a black woman. And an Asian woman. And a European woman. Italian. British. Caribbean. No preference, really. Like a pic I saw somewhere of a woman that said “Bi Poly Switch: I’m not indecisive, I’m just greedy.” But, I can’t nail down a bunch of parameters with my inexperience. Just like to get out and date some. Go to the movies. To eat. To art galleries. Maybe yoga. Salsa lessons. Cooking lessons. Just out for a drive.
Be aware that I WILL fuck on a first date. I’m pretty slutty like that!

Fiftyone. Gonnatrytomakesense. Thursdaynineteenthapriltwothousandtwelve.

I’ve been wanting to blog, but most of what I want to blog comes to me at work.  Not time to blog there, with but fifteen minute breaks and a half hour lunch (one blog post once took two hours…)  Then, I’m typing on a phone at work.  Which sometimes decides it can’t get a decent connection in the breakroom.  By the time I get home, I forget most of what I was going to type.  So, I’ll just start somewhere…

The disabled car is gone.  Seven hundred fifty to buy it, two hundred back from the scrapyard (not the one where I work, one closer to the shop that I hear pays more.) Was possibly gonna sell it back to the woman I bought it from, but oh well. Then we were gonna put it on the road and see what we could get for it.  But, that would take forever and I wouldn’t feel right inflicting those issues on anyone.  ETA for the new car is currently Saturday.  Now driving my mom’s car, since she has her truck.

But, it’s been bad as far as beating myself up over the faith/sexuality conflict/tantrum, depending on my mood at the time I’m describing it.  The woman I ride to church with ran out of minutes on her new phone (went from Verizon to prepay,) but had data left so she sent me a message on Facebook.  Asking me how  I’ve been with God and if I’d been attending church.  First Sunday this month, had a meeting about a sci-fi convention that I volunteered for this past February that’s planning next year’s convention.  The following Sunday was Easter, and I went to church with my mom. Didn’t tell her it was to avoid the men’s group.  Last Sunday, we went down to Norfolk to celebrate my cousin’s birthday.  Anyway, I didn’t answer the message from the friend on Facebook.

Got a message the next day.  Asking me if I was avoiding the previous day’s post.

Now I don’t know what to say.  Not that I did before.  Now I’m thinking of what I’ll tell them.   About where I’ve been, physically, emotionally, and mentally.  And about what they’ll say that will render my feelings and thoughts void.  Evil.  Surrender them.  Repent.

That’s where I’ve been the past couple days.

The situation at work hasn’t helped.  The latest rumor is that they’ve stopped production at another yard to save money.  That after now mandating that we clock out for lunch now.  The better to catch us coming back late and fire us, I say.  They’ve reworked our booth to cut down on the noise (gave us a hearing test today.)  Now, it’s harder to see when a piece of metal goes sideways and jams the line, which pissed off everyone else on the line.  Morale is crap.  Tired of dealing with the same jokes and insults.  Why does everywhere where there are only men on the floor/yard have such bad gay jokes?

O Ficially sick of this job.  Want another.  Are there others?  What can I do?  I have no official education past high school.  Can’t go to school because I can’t pay the bills and go to school, even when I have grants for school.  So, I’m stuck.

Who can change my life?

Church seems to be doing more harm than good.  Or, is it really harm?  As it’s the church.  Military didn’t help.  Did give me medical benefits that I mainly use to talk to a psychiatrist.  Been looking for a nonbiased opinion on what to do.  The church says surrender to Christ, repent of your sin (not just apologize, but change your way of thinking and acting so that you no longer sin)  Other’s say the church is evil  (the term “brainwashing” was used, and I honestly can’t refute it.)  The psychiatrist seems one of the few unbiased voices.  Especially since she stopped recommending meds every visit.

But, I had to miss an appointment with her earlier this month because of car problems.  Mom had an appointment the same time as mine, only an hour away.  Don’t know if I was more upset from that or the fact that I had taken off and then ended up having to go to work.

And, I’ve felt lonely.

I feel lonely in a crowd.  I feel lonely because I can’t be with who I want to be with.

I doubt she exists.

Right now, I feel like I’m throwing away my life and my salvation pursuing something that doesn’t exist.  That, even if it did, doesn’t want me.

Nevermind the fact that I’m pursuing what God has destroyed entire civilizations for doing.

Sexual immorality.

But, I’ll be thirty seven two weeks from Saturday.  And, I have no wife.  No girlfriend. No prospects.

No children.

No house of my own.  No running car.  No solid career.  No assets.

Not just to focus on materialism, but I’m supposed to be established by now.  I’m now.  What makes me better than my uncles who do odd jobs and anything they can just to get by?  Or over?

What do I have to recommend me?

Someone said I have to like myself before someone else will like me.

I said I may as well go back to church, then.

Someone else said she wished I could see what she sees in me.

What do I see?  How am I judging myself right now?

My pastor speaks of something referred to as delta, where delta represents the time between being prompted by God and obeying the promting.  The time elapsed represents your maturity in Christ.

“If a man love me, he will keep my words, and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him.”  John 14:23

(Hate to use a partial quote and take it out of context, but…)  ”God is everything, and without God, I wouldn’t be nothin.  Well…!”

Basically, that sums it up.  I can’t bring myself to see anything but my reluctance to submit to and obey God.  When I don’t think about it, I’m okay.;  But, then something reminds me.  A text.  A quote. A song.  A sign.  And, I’m back to beating myself up about how evil I am.

How did I get here?  Where do I go from here?

Somehow, I feel destined for one direction:  to lose my car, my job, my house, my possessions, and everything else I put before God.  Already lost the car.  The job’s not too far behind.  And I forsee myself losing it in a way that denies me unemploymnent, if it’ll be there at all, so there’s the house and possessions.  And, it’s like, even if I DO surrender, then instead of being stripped of these things, I give them up.  They aren’t important, after all.  The most important thing is my relationship with Christ. Which I’ve never doubted before coming to this church.  I’ve been depressed and in need of guidance.  I truly can’t say that they’ve helped, but rather have added to the stress.

I believe I remember them describing getting realization, and conviction, of my sins, but never receiving the Holy Spirit in my life to truly have peace and for God to change me.

But, I figure he’d know how best to reach me more than they do.  Like my sister knows better which of my mom’s ways doesn’t work on me than she does.  And he’s GOD!  He should know what won’t work.

That sounded like it may make sense…

Fifty.Bearwithme.Tuesdaytwentysevenmarchtwothousandtwelve.

So much on my mind.  So many possible titles for this one.  Could pick anything from the entry to use.

Felt depressed earlier.  Felt better. Now it’s back.

My car. The one with the pinhole leak in the coolant line.  Quit on me last Friday on my way to work.  Ran rough when I first started it. Got on the expressway, had trouble getting up to expressway speed.  Got to my exit and the car died. Tried starting it, wouldn’t.  Looked up and saw steam rising from under the hood.

Got out, stuck something out the window to indicate that the car wasn’t abandoned, and started walking to work.  Called the family mechanic.  He said he’d see what he could do.

Yesterday evening, mom comes to pick me up from work.  She says the mechanic didn’t pick up the car. But it wasn’t there on the way to work.  Call the police to see if they had it towed.

State police had it towed. Towing company is charging $65 for towing it and $45 a day storage.  Because they’re giving me a break.

FUCK!  There goes my savings. Well, a good chunk.  The chunk I can just go to an ATM an get as opposed to that in the credit union that I can only get during their business hours, when I’m working.  And since having my hours cut at work, there hasn’t been a month where I haven’t had to dip into savings to come up with the rent payment.  Usually I can spread it out over two paychecks, but the paychecks can’t spread that easily anymore.

So, I decide God is trying to punish me for being disobedient.  For deciding to go with my own wants and lusts over Him.  Over what He commanded me to flee from.

This morning, I decide it’s not punishment.

It’s prodding.  It’s a commandment.  To be any clearer, He would have to rewrite the bible and put my name in it.

Kevin O’Shea Thomas, fall on your face, confess your sins, repent, take up your cross and follow me!

But, I’m too chicken shit to do it.

I can’t do it.  I can’t bring myself to do it.

I don’t care, do it!  Surrender to me!  You said you had!

Is it that I can’t, or that I just don’t want to?  Am I just a whiny little bitch?  Is this like a pulling teeth, pulling ribs, or spitting out a rotten, dangling tooth that I just don’t want to spit out?

I don’t know anymore.

Too many voices in my head.  I’ve talked to lots of people about this.  I’ve heard alot of opinions on the matter.  Too many.  Can’t decide.

Your church is evil.  It’s a cult.  Leave it!

What good will it do to leave the church?  The truth is the same no matter what church I go to, even if I go to no church at all.  Then there’s my aunt’s words.  ”It’s fifty two Sundays in a year, and you better be in church every one of ‘em, ‘cause you won’t raised like that!”

So what church do I go to?  I’ve never been so unhappy going to a church. But, I can’t convince myself that that’s a bad thing.

That’s God calling you.  He’s drawing you near.  Answer Him.

I don’t know if I want to.  Does that mean that I don’t love God?

“If a man love me, he will keep my words, and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him, and make our abode with him.”  John 14:23

But the Bible can’t be trusted.  It was written by men. Entire books were omitted.  The Protestant church was created so that Henry VIII could divorce his wife and remarry, and the Catholic church was created as a means of continuing the influence of the Roman empire.

But, it’s the church.  It must be good.  The Bible is God’s word.  He influenced it’s words.

Al Qaida and the Ku Klux Klan came from the church.

See where I’m confused?  I don’t know what to believe anymore.  And I’ve been refusing to let myself believe anything that goes against the church.

She said that I was the one in charge of making my life better.  I doubt that.  Of course, God is the only one who can make my life better.  And of course, He won’t do that until I surrender to Him.  That’s why my savings is about gone.  That’s why the new car isn’t ready.  That’s why I had to pay to have the old car towed.  That’s why I’m about to have to sell the computer and the video games and turn off the cell and the internet.  That’s how He’s going to take those influences out of my life that I won’t get rid of.  My job is next, followed by the house.  Maybe then, my health.  Will that do it?  Will that get me to surrender?  I don’t know.

These are the thoughts I have in those moments when I beat myself up for not being able to give my life to Christ.  Others at church have.  Their live are so much better for it.  Even in the bad, they have Christ, so everything’s ok.  One guy almost lost his construction business, but now he’s slammed.  One guy lost his contracting business, his tools, his truck, almost lost his house.  He has kidney stones, but he rejoices in those because they’re God’s way of getting his attention.  One guy with a home business gave up his internet at home because he couldn’t stop looking at porn.  One guy hasn’t gone on Facebook since the day his girlfriend (now wife) caught him looking up an ex.  Other guys get software on their computers to let others know about their surfing history.

I couldn’t do any of that.  Maybe I don’t belong at this church.  Maybe that’s the indication that I do belong here.  I don’t know anymore.

I was running this over in my head again and again this morning think of what I’d say, not wanting to miss anything.  Then my mood improved a bit. Then I heard that the brake lines on the forthcoming car aren’t right.  And why did my cousin just hand me the bible that had been down her house for ages?  The same one I was given when I got baptized when I was eight?  What does it really mean? Who or what do I listen to?  Who do I even ask?  Another woman I was talking to said she’s tired of hearing me beat myself up. I feel like I’m getting on Her nerves with all the whining.

“Did I tell you that I was tired of it?”

“No.”

“Then, shut the fuck up!”

So, I shut the fuck up, but that doesn’t really help.  I don’t want to talk to the people at church because they’re biased, and I pretty much know what they’re gonna say.  I keep going back to the associate pastor saying that I needed to starve the beast, and praying for God to make me miserable until he broke me.  And I can’t convince myself that God wasn’t speaking through him telling me what to do.  I told Her about it and where I was and she said, ” that’s an awful place to be.” 

“I know.”

“Leave it.”

Don’t know if I can.  Don’t know if I should. Don’t know.

Fortynine.sothatxposted.sundayeighteenthmarchtwothousandtwelve.

A phrase used alot around our church.  I’m at a loss for examples at present, but it goes something like we go through trials so that once those trial are over and we’ve come through then and gotten closer to God, someone else going through something similar can look to our story for inspiration.  What does this have to do with this’a here story I’m about to tell?  Probably nothing, really, wanted a title.

Thanks to those who have sent words of encouragement after my last post.  I really appreciate it.

Felt great for maybe a day and a half.

Thursday morning, I’m awakened by an awful noise.  My music is skipping.  But, the music is on my laptop’s hard drive, so why is it skipping?  Possibly something to do with running the OS from a CD and the CD skipped, I don’t know.  Anyway, I stopped the music player and restarted it, which got it to behave.  Returned to bed and tried to return to sleep.  But somehow my mind goes back to the blog post.  And a quote I used from someone in the men’s group.

And I remember the men’s group’s confidentiality clause.  It’s nothing signed or sealed in blood, and I doubt it’s legally binding, but what’s said at the tables is to remain at the tables to give each other the freedom to share what’s going on in our lives.  I had violated that agreement, and I felt horrible.

So, I got up and went to my computer, as I figured the easiest way to reach the one I had violated was email.  Looked at the clock on the computer.  Even though it’s still pretty dark, the alarm’s about to go off, so no going back to bed.  Flippin’ daylight savings.  Crap, could use another few hours.

I send the email and go about my day.  Try to call him at my first break, it goes to voicemail.  I figure I’ve already left my message, so I don’t leave another (have voicemail anyway.)  He’s in a meeting the rest of the day.  He emailed me that night accepting my apology and saying that he “was praying for the immediate effect of sin to come to bear in my life to allow me to truly understand that God doesn’t want to keep any good thing away from you but only wants to keep from you the things that will in the end only bring you pain.”  He offered to talk.

Didn’t really feel like talking, though.  Didn’t feel like being pressured again.

But, I kept on myself about how I should surrender and I’m sinning and on and on.  Sunday service was baptism.  People have the person who meant the most in their walk towards Christ baptize them and recap their journey.  A couple get to tell their story in detail.  I don’t really feel good stories of coming to Christ while my relationship with Him is on the rocks.

I end up going anyway.

The associate pastor is one of the first people I see.  ”Are we good?”  We’re good. I’m not good, but we’re good.

As predicted, the service did more harm to my mood than good. The first woman who spoke mentioned divorce driving her to atheism, then perfection.  She said she then realized that God didn’t want her to change for Him to come into her live, He wanted to come into her life to change Her.  Didn’t know if I was ready to change, though.  Not completely.  The second guy spoke of growing up in a strict household that he rebelled against and tried to sleep with as many women as possible between high school graduation and college.  After a month in college, he found he’d gotten a girl pregnant.  He ended up going to the Navy, but ended up in Hawaii where he was discharged for failing a drug test.  After he’d finally come to Christ he said he was no longer the abusive party guy who had nothing to live for.  When he said he was no longer himself, the audience applauded.  Which bothered me, because I don’t even know who I am yet, and feel like I gave up all rights to that when I myself got baptized, but still had to live up to the promise I’d made.

So, I found the associate pastor again and told him I felt even worse, and he asked how that was possible.  We talked a bit, and he said “I usually tell people that if you think the path you’re on will bring you happiness, then go for it,” and that the conflict was tearing me apart.  I’d heard him say that before, possibly even to me, but never considered actually stepping away from the church before.  But, now, I felt like I could and it wouldn’t be the end of the world, that they wouldn’t chase me down until I relented.  Then, I finally felt at peace.  For a bit.  Not the ending to a baptism day story that I think they necessarily wanted, but hey.  They said that even when I stray, God’s still there.  So, I’m trying to get out more.  Meet more people.  Forge friendships.  Find out what friendship really is.  Find out about myself and what I really like.  Whether my list of kinks is what I want or just what looks shiny in the store window but only brings remorse when I bring it home.  I’m going to ask for help finding a new job.  I haven’t started beating myself up again, yet.  But, I’m gonna need A LOT of positive vibes to keep on that path.  And alot of guidance.

An orgasm or two hundred would be nice, too.

Fortyeight.Wordsforyaxposted.Thirteenthmarchtwothousandtwelve

I wrote this as a blog entry on a website I belong to that you would need a username and password to read.  Hope they don’t mind me posting it here as well so that people who aren’t members of that site can read.  I’ll ask, and if they say no, it comes down.

To all those who’ve witnessed me in a crappy, mopey, whiny mood, especially in the past couple months, I got two words for ya.

Ok, a word with an explanation followed by another word with an explanation, but it hasn’t the original ring.

-Sorry - I’ve had alot on my mind as of late.  I’ll get to that in a bit.  But, what I’ve been going through doesn’t excuse my behavior, and I apologize for it.

- Thanks - You’ve been patient with my moods.  Moreso than I believe myself worthy of.  Moreso than I thought anyone would be.  And, I have nothing to give in return but more whining, moping and self degradation.  And, in this moment, my thanks.  I want to use this as an opportunity to say that.  And, as an opportunity to maybe tell (maybe even discover) how I got where I am today.

I was born and raised in the church.  Scottzion Baptist Church, the late Rev. Henry W. Pryor, pastor.  My parents took me and my siblings.  We went to Sunday School and sang in the choir.  Got baptized when I was eight.  Rev. Pryor passed, the late Rev. Alfred Alan ( don’t know how he spelled Allen) Winn came.  Service every Sunday instead of every other Sunday now, Communion first Sunday instead of the fifth.  But, still no huge commitment.  I went, and I did my thing.

I was something of a loner in high school.  Don’t know that I had what you’d call friends.  I saw them at school, but I had no one’s numbers (probably wouldn’t be allowed to call anyone, anyway.)  Didn’t live near anyone.  Couldn’t leave the house because of the neighborhood knuckleheads.  Nothing serious like gang violence or anything, they just misbehaved.  I was lazy, and my mom wasn’t going to pay for me to go to college to fail out.  She was sending me to the army for Uncle Sam to pay for my college.  My brother suggested the Air Force instead.

Still have to thank him.  The Air Force was bad enough.  I’m a nonconformist who hates bunches of silly rules for no reason.  Basic stressed me out.  Hate being yelled at.  Got baptized a second time at the base pool with a chaplain.  Went to service on base until I got to tech school, where I never attended after the first Sunday.  Never really learned my job, got in trouble for little things here and there.  Finally, it came time to decide whether I was going to reenlist, and I wouldn’t have enough time to reach the required rank because my disciplinary problems held up a rank.  But, I had a year left.  They sent me to a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with a personality disorder and discharged me.

Back home, I take what jobs I can find.  They aren’t great.  Went to church on and off, then just off.  Met a girl.  Lasted three months.  Met another girl.  More of a wild child, we have more in common.  She had a bit of interest in BDSM, although we never did anything BDSM related together.  She mostly spoke of subs and dommes with the people she chatted with online.  She didn’t go out much.  Not even to get a job.  She left me with high phone bills and a car that broke down maybe a month or so later.  Heard she’s married with kids in Texas.

Love life’s a blank for a good few years after that.  Couple one night stands.  Checked out alt.com from an ad I saw on a website.  Hate how you had to pay to do anything besides acknowledge someone’s existence.  Then, a girl I met there told me about FetLife.

Two words for ya: Much better!  Still didn’t meet anyone within a reasonable distance.  Most of the profiles from my area seemed abandoned.

Was about this time, I had just left a job.  Well, I got hurt and put on light duty, but the place had no light duty.  Also, I was just a temp.  So I did stuff around the temp office to justify a continuing paycheck until I could wear two regular shoes again and they had no more use for me.  Had seen an old coworker in Walmart who’d invited me to her church.  Took her up on the offer after losing the job.  And then, there was the gentle prodding of my aunt, who is also a minister, who is also my landlord:  ”It’s fifty two Sundays in a year!  You better be in church every one of ‘em or we gon’ have a problem, ‘cause you won’t raised like that!”

So, I attended my first service at Blue Ridge Community Church.  Don’t really care for big churches with multiple services, because how fresh can the Word be when you’re preaching the same Word three, four or more times a day?  But, I liked the service.  Especially the part where, at offering, they said, “If you’re visiting, this part isn’t for you.  We don’t want you to feel obligated.”

I know, right?

Heard about the men’s group that met at a restaurant.  Attended.  The conversation was about confession, and the speaker confessed some of the illicit sexual thoughts he’d harbored in the past, including homosexual ones.  He spoke of how he thought he’d be shunned, but how he was welcomed instead, and how he’s put that behind him.

Then he asked us to confess.  And, I wasn’t ready to confess much.  Way too scared.

Still, I returned the next week.  And the one after that.  Returned to the Saturday morning one when I started working nights and couldn’t make the Monday night one.  Even when I worked overtime on Fridays until three am.

Then came questions about my relationship with God.  Had I truly surrendered everything over to Him?  The answer was no.  I thought I did, and I got baptized a third time.

Then, the church had a relationship class on Tuesday nights.  I wanted a relationship, so I attended. The lesson of the class:  Instead of looking for that special someone, be the someone God wants you to be and when you’re ready, He’ll send you someone.  I believe that was when I was introduced to the concept of sexual purity in earnest.  Not only have no sex outside of marriage, have no sexual thoughts.  The men’s group had spoken of it. The class gave scripture.

“Flee fornication.”  I Corinthians 6:18

We’d been asked to fast for a week in the men’s group.  Pick a food thing (not all food) to fast from, and fast from TV.  I don’t watch TV, but fasted from the internet and video games.  And meat and any drink that wasn’t water.  Almost left FetLife. 

Didn’t.

Then, saw something about a group starting in my town.  Missed the first meeting, attended the second.  Left feeling like I went out to a bar and left alone, like I was the odd man out and everyone else already had their established things going.  I’m an introvert and I almost never make the first move, especially the first time I meet someone.  For some reason, in the back of my mind, I come up with excuses.  They’re taken.  They’re not interested.  They’re out of your league.  I messaged the leader of the group at the time, who apologized for being too busy to get down to talk to me and that I didn’t feel welcomed.  I was convinced to give the group another try.  I’m glad I did.  I’ve met some very wonderful people there.

Including her.

We have several things in common.  I’ve learned things from her, and I’m quite certain I still have much to learn from her. But, she’s much more sadistic than I am masochistic.  She has far too much going on to be there like I want her to, and I don’t want to be a burden.

And then, she told me to cut my hair.

I never did like having short hair.  My dad cut hair (wasn’t a barber, he just cut people’s hair) and when hip hop cats wore dreads, the longest he’d allow was a box fade.  Another reason I hated the military.  Started wearing my hair down my neck after I separated.  Never figured out how to properly care for it, though.  And, I’m not too quick to trust just anyone with my hair, nevermind money for their services.  So, it had gotten really bad.  And she said, either you cut it, or I will.  And I gave my typical defense for when someone demands I cut my hair:  The deer in headlights defense.

Ended up taking it to a guy I knew from the men’s group, who’d cut it the year before when my aunt made me cut it for Thanksgiving dinner and he’d offered to cut it for free.  This time, thirteen bucks to get my hair the shortest it’s been since basic.

That next Saturday, we had a munch.  The consensus of the group was that it looked much better.  My translation:  It looks better now, stupid!  You don’t know how to wear it!  This set the mood for a night of sulking in the corner, especially since I couldn’t sit beside her.  She was now the leader of the group and was circulating greeting newcomers.  Still, I was a jealous, whiny, mopey bitch.  This is the reason for the opening apology to all in attendance that night.

I threw a bunch of ideas at the dartboard as to why I was in such a bad mood at the meeting when I called her to apologize.  My conflict between my kink and my faith came up.  I’ve examined it often since.  I mentioned the above incident at the men’s group (never admitting that it’s a BDSM group or any of my kinks, just a “problem with lust”) and again, it comes up that I haven’t surrendered my life to Christ.  Can’t tell them the issue that I can’t surrender, I’m just not ready.  I’ll even admit that I want this more than I want to follow God, or at least that I want this first, which may well be the same thing.  But, I’m not ready to give it up, or say what it is until I am ready to give it up.  And the associate pastor says its hold on me is so significant that the only solution is to starve it, to deny myself anything that feeds it.  He offers to smash my computer.  I refuse with a silent stare.

What do you say then the associate pastor prays for God to make you miserable until you’re ready to surrender?  That he asks God to remove His protection from you?

Thanks…

Work has slowed.  Hours have been cut.  Overtime has been cut out.  There are rumors of layoffs, bad management decisions like not paying to do routine maintenance and extremely low morale.  I need another job.  But, I’m not looking for another job.  I’ve had so little success that I’m not even looking forward to all the rejection and failure, especially with the economy in the state that it’s in.  And, does God even want me to have a better job?  Will this be part of breaking me?  Will it break me?  What if it doesn’t?  What will I lose then?  I started attending this church when I was looking for another job, to find encouragement.  The answer I get when I complain about my job:  Don’t do it for them, do it to God’s glory.  God provided the job, God will provide even if you don’t have a job.  God put you there and appointed them over you, so do your job to the best of your ability as an act of obedience to God.

Really? For them?  For this job?  And then what?  I say I have no faith because I can’t surrender my life to God and obey Him, but I have faith to stay in a dead end job that’s soon to be gone because I somehow believe that it’s His will.

Her housemate was leaving.  The going away party was listed on Fet.  I check the time, thinking it’s 6:30 like our munches.  It’s at five.  And it’s 5:15!  No time to get pretty, grab my keys and go!  I’m already late! Lock the front door and reach into my pock…

SHIT!  Locked the keys in the house!  Can’t get in touch my mom, who lives next door and has the spare set.  Well, the mechanic said that my car would be ready this evening.  The one he’s been working on to replace the lemon I ended up buying after work totaled my other car.  If it’s ready, he’ll have the keys to that car and I can drive to the party.  More productive than sitting on the front porch fuming, especially is mom went out of town.  So, I walk 4.9 miles (according to Google) talking to myself about how I don’t love God because I can’t give this thing up.

And of course, the mechanic is gone.  The car is behind the garage and doesn’t seem to have moved in the two weeks it’s been there.

So, I walk maybe eight tenths a mile to the bank to get money for church just in case I can get in the house to change and shower tomorrow.  Pondering what to do if mom is out of town all weekend.  Pondering setting my phone’s alarm at an early enough time so I can walk to work, never mind that the battery won’t last that long and the charger’s in the house.

And at the bank, in a burst of emotion and rage, I kind of run up and kick the bank.  Bank of the James ain’t done nothing to me, I got no beef with Bank of the James.  Except that they don’t have a secured credit card that I can get and cancel my Bank of America card, who I do got beef wit, but that’s a different show.

Check the Big Lots across the road for anti freeze (car has a pinhole leak in a coolant hose and the bottle I bought at Walmart last week is laying on the floor with the top off.)  They don’t have any.  Another 4.6 miles back home.  Mom’s still not back.  Phone going straight to voicemail.  My aunt has another key.  ”You can come get it, but I ain’t coming out!”  Call her to let her know why I didn’t show up.  Get in the car, put a jacket over myself and try to cry myself to sleep until my mom shows up to let me in the house.

And it finally has occurred to me that this is not healthy.  It’s not leading me any closer to God or surrendering my sins to Him, it will only drive me insane!

So, I’m stepping away from the men’s group.  Possibly from church.  Does this make me feel better?  No.  Last Monday’s (the first night I played hooky) random bible verse:

“This I say then, Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lust of the flesh.  For the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: and these are contrary the one to the other: so that ye cannot do the things that ye would.”  Galatians 5: 16, 17

I can leave the men’s group, I can leave the church, but the Word is still there.  Mixed up with all the other words I’ve heard.  I’m no closer to where I want to be.  And, church has me thinking that what I want is irrelevant compared to what God desires for me.  Which I can’t bring myself to do.

But, I’m going to try… something.  As opposed to waiting for some thing to happen to magically change me, I guess.  So, I’m trying to get out more.  Meet more people.  Forge friendships.  Find out what friendship is.  Find out about myself and what I really like and what.  Whether my list of kinks is what I want or just what looks nicer in the window than in the house.  I’m going to ask for help finding a new job.  I already know that if I try to find one alone, at best I’ll find nothing and at worst I’ll find jobs like the one I had when I wasn’t making enough to pay the bills but was still stressed out past healthy.  I’m going to fail in what I just said I’d do and end up beating myself up.  Thank you in advance for your patience, and sorry.