bing bong kablammo
sad stuff here below.
Proceed with caution.
Poetry ‘n motion

(If this 4 line poem gets put on a bus, poetry in motion people truly have no quality control)
oh, right, back to the sad stuff

I like to put into words how I feel, however I think they are such a downer. Definitely for anyone else I talk to. Its easier if I’m happy, more comfortable, less awkward if I talk about cheery things, or interesting things. Someone who met me today probably wouldn’t want to hang out with me. (Which makes open letter to wife extra hopelessly depressing)

But I’ve never wanted to be fake, I am always honest, but lately I don’t even think smiling and putting up with stuff is honest. If my boss comes by and asks how things are going in a public casual setting, I have no choice but to put on a happy face, or at least non emotional face, it is part of being professional. I don’t want to whine or complain, or cause a ruckus. They could have fired me but they chose to keep me around. I feel obligated to perform, do terrible remedial tasks, stare at my wall, suck it up and … be fake in the process.

I am out around town, dress up all cool, smile for people who bring me food, tell people to have good days, even when I am not having one myself, and it seems so empty and not real. In fact dressing up in general seems disingenuous. I’ve done the wrinkled t shirt a couple times this week. The big boss came in and I was a bit self conscious. But guess what, as far as appearances go, wrinkled t shirt is pretty accurate. Greasy or messy hair, half stubble beard mess. And a frown on my face. Except I usually try not to frown at work, definitely no crying… which is sometimes a difficult ambition.

Then there are people I talk to, ones I am getting to know more about, make conversations with. I have a passion for caring about people, and encouraging anyone who needs it, but how do I do that when I’m the one who needs care? I am not in a place to ask for it, nor do I even think it is appropriate for them to think about me when in all reality, they have more pressing problems or dilemmas. ( If they don’t know God, why should I be the one who feels like I’m missing something? ) But I feel so weak and I just don’t write them back. Or the few times I’m feeling upbeat, listening to happy music, I fire off as many emails as I can before I crash back into reality again. If you haven’t received anything from me in a week or more, hopefully you know happy Sheridan and just pretend like he said something inspiring and encouraging, because I really just don’t feel like I can do a very good job right now.

I go to church, or pray to my Savior, which is the only thing that gives me a sense of home any more. A lot of work has gone into what I feel is “home”, a lot of people, influences, forces, scenarios which I feel has helped create the right kind of home. But how do I know how strong that is? The strength is supposed to be the foundation, me and God. Is that foundation all I need? Like the songs say?

I know He is there for me always, and relying on other people is just a recipe for depression. People go, whether they fail me, or I run away from them, people are not constant. So when all things fade away, do I still have God? There are no more decorations, infrequent peer support, distant parenting, no Christian school, nothing on earth really has much pushing me to go to God. Other than who God is, His faithfulness to me, and my permanent desire to follow Him. A desire that is tested and shaken, but it remains, and will remain to the end.

God is the only constant. King David found God in the caves, he wasn’t particularly enjoying life, but he found God. He didn’t have much else either, I’m sure he was pretty dirty and isolated. You don’t hear constant happy words of wisdom and encouragement from some the psalms. And yet he still wrote them because they were real.

I don’t like caves, but if King David went through it, I can get through it. So help me God.