Only A Soul

I gave you my soul

for eternity.

You accepted 

that forever bond.

You are a vampire

you told me that night;

and we are the antichrist

you told her that day.

Each Easter, we ate and drank

communion offered

to ourselves, as the gods.

Find God in you

in the mirror, you said,

hours, days, months and years

believing and hoping

I'd find her there,

But, all I could see

were my vacuous eyes.

The eyes you photographed,

saying they looked up to see

you, infinity itself. 

I gave you my trust,

loyalty, devotion

and faith

So, if you happened

to notice this girl

dying slowly,

Don't worry.

It's only a soul.

Only a soul,

sacrificed for you

for your comfort,

for your wealth,

for your pleasure.

Am I being selfish,

you asked me that night.

You are enlightened

and can't be, of course.

One day, you released me,

but kept that bond.

And it weighed me down

like a ball and chain.

I'm not a victim

Victimhood is not allowed.

But for every dollar you make,

For each admiring face, 

for every blissful, tearful eye,

Remember,

Don't worry,

It's only a soul.

-Laura Marie Hall Paxton,
03/12/15

No matter how you hurt, God is not a drug.

Lately, I've had a lot going on in my head. For those who remember, in my last blog post, I was stressed and overwhelmed. I have good news for you that I've been resolving things. When I first published that post, I wanted to take it down. It seemed too personal. Yet, when I received comments on Reddit that people really related to what I was going through and that it helped them, it was worth it.

I thought I was doing too much, pushing too hard. I even thought I was on the verge of hypomania. I saw my psychiatrist yesterday and he said I'm doing better than he's ever seen me. He said the last thing I need to do is worry about how I'm doing. But, growth hurts sometimes. It's tough.

Last week, I wrote about trying to learn how to stop myself from driving myself crazy. The odd message I felt God wanted to give me is that I didn't need to stop His love. What I felt Him say confused me. It made no sense and wasn't the answer I was looking for. But, now, I understand. Let God out, let Him run free through my body and soul. Give God unbridled access to living through me. Then, I don't have to worry about stopping. I just need to let Him start and not stop HIM.

This doesn't mean I don't take breaks, rest, meditate, pray, know when I've gone too far and quit activity. It means exactly that I DO need to do all those things. I need to do those things because if I don't, I put limits on God and what He can do. Just like He told us, His yoke is easy and His burden is light.

I'm an intense person, no doubt about it. I have the wide feeling range of a bipolar, the laser like focus of an autistic and sometimes, anxiety attacks on top of it all. So, I can relate to just about anybody who is a little crazy.

I remember years ago, when I worked as a mental heath case manager, I had a client who called me up and said, in a terrified, gasping voice, “Laura, I NEED you, I need you, come here.” I asked her why and she just cried and repeated, “I need you.” So, since I made home visits, I drove way out to her trailer in the Appalachian mountains. When I opened the door, there was my client, with a shotgun pointed at her mother. I won't say much further except to say that all survived, she went to jail and I quit my job.

Sometimes, I have felt that way myself. Now, I don't mean I've felt like I would point a gun at anybody, but I've felt that desperate, terrified need. So many times, I pray to God in that voice, “I need you! I need you!” I will often flash back to that client when I feel that, thinking, “Wow. The pain!” Anyone with anxiety disorder can relate, I am sure. It isn't even logical.

I used to approach communion like that quite a lot. I wanted to be fed with God's comfort and love. I would return to my pew and sometimes cry with joy. Jesus became a drug. So, my spiritual director asked me, “What kind of way is that to treat anyone you love? Next time when you receive communion, pray that the sacrament will give you the strength to serve Him.”

Wow. That was around nine months ago that we had that conversation and I have always said those words in prayer before communion and after. It's made a huge difference in my life. I've learned things this year about the great sacrifice Jesus made for us. He gave us everything. My job is to learn to give everything back, to learn to give as He did.

I've had thoughts spinning around in my head this week about how Jesus told St. Peter that if he loved Him, he would feed his sheep. In other words, if St. Peter loved Him, he would show mature love and give until it hurt.

Over the past nine months, I've learned more every day about how to grow in maturity and love. The secret to my happiness is to push forward instead of sliding into anxiety verging on despair. For instance, instead of crying, “Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!” as if in panic from the bottom of a well, awaiting rescue, I've learned something that feels really novel and unique to a former Protestant.

I've learned how to offer Him up. I can lift up my arms to God and hold Him high and say to God, “Behold, your son. Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! There is nothing worthwhile I can offer you except for this.” Jesus died because we had nothing at all to offer God without Him. If I don't offer Him up, I still have nothing. To give Jesus to God, as the gift Jesus wants to be, is amazing. We do it every time in the mass. We do it every time we pray the Divine Mercy Chaplet.

Jesus is the only worthy gift to give to God, but if we seek to merge our lives with His, we will grow in holiness and love. How do we merge with Him? Give like Him. Give like he does, and that means all we have and all we are. Yet, I have to remember that when I'm keeping myself insanely busy, trying to justify myself and prove myself, impress people and get approval, I'm not making any room for Him to live in me. Everything I do is absolutely worthless without Him. Remembering this is a constant challenge for me.

There is so much pain in our world, so much tortured misery. We have extreme violence erupting all over our planet and we have since the day we left Eden. We cry out to Jesus, “We need you,” and then we make ourselves crazy with activity to try to kill the pain, when really, we need to learn to serve Him. Only then can we have peace.

I Don't Know How To Stop

I feel whiny today. Yesterday, I cried.
Why, oh why, do I have to slow down?
I hate it. I want to stay busy.

Everyone who cares about me annoys me by trying to get me to stop. I want them to go away, since I'm too busy for them anyway.

My therapist said I need more breaks in my day to take care of myself.

My spiritual director said I need to keep doing Eucharistic Adoration for the next three months and then we'll re-evaluate whether I need to continue. I don't have to obey what he says, but I'm not seeking direction because I'm a genius at how to grow spiritually. My talents lie more in the realm of driving myself to the edge of psychosis and back. So, I agreed and I do what I agree to do. I realize that what I want isn't always what I need.

I don't want to slow down. It's almost as if I feel the world will come to an end if I do.

I used to play computer games non-stop at night, five and six hours at a time, to de-stress. But, that just charges adrenalin and provides escape. Plus, annoyingly, none of my advisers think this is healthy anymore or want me to continue. In fact, I have yet to find anyone in their right mind that thinks I should continue. Wow, I'd love to find one!

So, I have to do other things, like turn to God more. 

I'm pushing myself really hard. I've spoken before small audiences four times this week- four. And it terrifies me to do that. I'm also making a special effort to be more present and responsive to my boyfriend. I emotionally neglect him and autism is a reason. Especially when I'm overloaded, I want and actually need to shut down and go inside myself to hibernate from everything. However, it is but not an excuse to ignore him completely and in general, act like a jerk. I can't stop doing my best to give my best. He's sick this week too, so he needs more care.

Also, there is my overwhelmingly difficult Quickbooks class and the fact that I am preparing three books for printing and none of that is going as smoothly as I think it should. But mainly, the problem is that I don't want to let go of my control and give that over to God. I just don't.

I tell every autistic I know not to make big changes in their lives all at once or they will set themselves up for meltdown. Yet, I refuse to listen to what I know is true.

Why?

I SAY that I want to do the right thing, with all my heart, more than anything else. And my heart breaks that it's never enough. Yet, even though I feel that's true. I'm lying to myself. I don't know what the right thing is. I just want to push myself to feel important, valued, and redeemed. It's really all about me.

After receiving communion yesterday, I just prayed, and I said, "Jesus, I don't know how to stop. I don't know how to put limits on anything." I felt His presence clearly and a soft voice spoke in my heart, "My love needs no limits."

The infinite love God offers us doesn't push us to the brink of insanity. That sort of thing is MY forte, not His!

I need to go do my Eucharistic Adoration in about an hour. For my non-Catholic friends, it's basically spending an hour with God in a chapel. Tomorrow, at the end of my monthly day at the Carmelite Monastery, I meet before a council of officers and our spiritual adviser, to see if I will be permitted to enter formation. What do I need to do more than focus on de-stressing and making room for that unlimited love in my heart? Only my pride wants to save the world. Enough.