I'm just really tired.
Tired of the "Road to Happy Destiny." Tired of self-examination, and reflection, and looking at "my part" in things, and cleaning up my side of the street. I'm tired of trying to be a good person -- or even just a better person, actually. (I sort of stopped aiming for "good" a while ago, as You no doubt know.)
I'm just really tired. Sad and tired.
I know there are many people who would find my life a paradise. People starving and sick and oppressed and incarcerated. People who's daily struggle to merely survive makes my life look like I've already died and gone to Heaven. If they knew my life and heard my prayer they would have every right to curse me and wonder at You -- how could You have given so very much to such a very sorry fellow.
It doesn't help that I'm painfully aware that all my problems are pretty much of my own making. I would thank You for the insight, but I don't like what I in-saw. All of that wonderful, terrible awareness of my own wonderful and terrible character -- too much, thank you.
(You know, God, between you and me, I think sometimes people drink because they saw too much when they looked inside.)
As I make this prayer, I feel the pull to apologize for whining. The reflex, well learned in 12 Step School, to scold myself for being in Self Pity. I'll get around to that in a minute, I'm sure -- right now though, I just don't have it in me to scold or bully or cheerlead or cajole.
So I bring this to You, as I bring everything to You.
On my own I don't think I can overcome this today. On my own what I come up with is that I should probably just "buck up" should "get my shit together" should "get busy" should "get out of myself" should "get back on the horse" should "get a clue" should "get into service" should get should get should get get get.
All those "shoulds" -- they're like rocks on my chest, holding me under the water.
I will be ashamed of this prayer tomorrow, probably. Or the next time I see someone in real need, with real problems -- which, given the state of the world, should be in about five minutes.
I'm not asking for Your forgiveness, God. I'm asking for mine.
God, please help me feel the same compassion towards myself that I often feel for others.
God, help me remember that even to this, there is a point, and that I have real evidence time and again that You are at work in my life, and the "universe conspires on my behalf."
God, help me see that the seasons turn, and all things need rest, and tired isn't weak and sad isn't selfish and confused isn't a fuck up -- and from these darker things inside me You still make roses. Beautiful things grow in the night, too.
Thank you, God.