T
toinena
Guest
I survived Valentine's day this year as well. I allmost managed to not dig myself down in the self pity ditch, until my lodger got a surprise visit from her boyfriend. Jealousy towards all the happily coupled grew and I tried to hide it with awwws and big smiles. Of course. Don't mind me. Go out and enjoy.
I am accepting my life as it is. No problem. I have blessings I can count. And I try to expand that acceptance towards a permanent state of singlehood. That is the most likely prospect mathematically and in terms of attractiveness. It is OK. I have never been good looking. I can handle that. I have always been quite independent. That is also something I can handle. It is the fact that because of the disability I have to depend on others. Also others that clearly hates doing the things I can't. Last week I reach a new level of helplessness. I need help to get in and out of bed. I can't any longer decide freely when I go to bed. It has to be according to another person's schedule. It kills me. I really cherish the freedoms I have in life. And this one including having time by myself in the evenings for my music, my TV shows, my sloppy dressing.... is a freedom that I have needed to feel normal. To find balance. To have time to reflect. And that has now been snatched from me.
What has this to do with Valentine's day? Everything. Because I know this is the last straw that will make me unwanted and shunned by the single male community for sure. Unless the person is a perv and wants a person tied to bed and controlled 24/7 that is. Then I am the perfect "victim". A person that simply can't run away.
So I have to start accept that my life has to be shared with caretakers and people paid to look after me. No loving here. Just surrender to the people that doesn't get a better job than to work for me. What a life! What a furture!
How could I even dream of a life with a loving husband? What gave me the right to do so? I blew my chance with the one I had. Or rather I came to my senses and he blewed it a long time before that.
Here I am. At one of the life's crossroads. Do I walk to the left, surrendering totally, letting life be defined and decided by the munincipal? Or do I walk right? Still fighting to keep the job, the life and the independence I still have. It costs more. But I am still in charge, atleast partly.
What is the Christian way to do things? The humble surrendering or fighting for the right also to serve Him at work? Humility is a virtue for sure. But is it the right thing now? Is there a third option? I could always take the easy way out and commit suicide. Or Euthanasia as politicians prefer to call it. It will save the Municipal loads of money and myself a lot of struggles. It is tempting. But so wrong.
Wrong because I still have a faint hope of something better. A healed body, a son returning to Christ, the perfect job (I am sooooo close now, I can almost touch it) a fellowship closer to home, not 2.5 hours away, and a husband to share dinner and memories with.
Wrong because my life is not mine, but God's. I don't live for myself, but for Christ. And therefore I have to carry the cross given to me. With a smile and with love. It is not easy. And He knows it.
So. Here I am, at he crossroads. And perhaps the choice is easier than I thought. Maybe I should just continue to walk down the road God has chosen for me. Whatever comes along, He is still in charge. I have managed ordeals before with His help, I can manage this one, too.
I am accepting my life as it is. No problem. I have blessings I can count. And I try to expand that acceptance towards a permanent state of singlehood. That is the most likely prospect mathematically and in terms of attractiveness. It is OK. I have never been good looking. I can handle that. I have always been quite independent. That is also something I can handle. It is the fact that because of the disability I have to depend on others. Also others that clearly hates doing the things I can't. Last week I reach a new level of helplessness. I need help to get in and out of bed. I can't any longer decide freely when I go to bed. It has to be according to another person's schedule. It kills me. I really cherish the freedoms I have in life. And this one including having time by myself in the evenings for my music, my TV shows, my sloppy dressing.... is a freedom that I have needed to feel normal. To find balance. To have time to reflect. And that has now been snatched from me.
What has this to do with Valentine's day? Everything. Because I know this is the last straw that will make me unwanted and shunned by the single male community for sure. Unless the person is a perv and wants a person tied to bed and controlled 24/7 that is. Then I am the perfect "victim". A person that simply can't run away.
So I have to start accept that my life has to be shared with caretakers and people paid to look after me. No loving here. Just surrender to the people that doesn't get a better job than to work for me. What a life! What a furture!
How could I even dream of a life with a loving husband? What gave me the right to do so? I blew my chance with the one I had. Or rather I came to my senses and he blewed it a long time before that.
Here I am. At one of the life's crossroads. Do I walk to the left, surrendering totally, letting life be defined and decided by the munincipal? Or do I walk right? Still fighting to keep the job, the life and the independence I still have. It costs more. But I am still in charge, atleast partly.
What is the Christian way to do things? The humble surrendering or fighting for the right also to serve Him at work? Humility is a virtue for sure. But is it the right thing now? Is there a third option? I could always take the easy way out and commit suicide. Or Euthanasia as politicians prefer to call it. It will save the Municipal loads of money and myself a lot of struggles. It is tempting. But so wrong.
Wrong because I still have a faint hope of something better. A healed body, a son returning to Christ, the perfect job (I am sooooo close now, I can almost touch it) a fellowship closer to home, not 2.5 hours away, and a husband to share dinner and memories with.
Wrong because my life is not mine, but God's. I don't live for myself, but for Christ. And therefore I have to carry the cross given to me. With a smile and with love. It is not easy. And He knows it.
So. Here I am, at he crossroads. And perhaps the choice is easier than I thought. Maybe I should just continue to walk down the road God has chosen for me. Whatever comes along, He is still in charge. I have managed ordeals before with His help, I can manage this one, too.
