Who Am I
I swore off live journal for the most part. Who wanted to hear the rambling thoughts of someone as depressed and lost as I? More than once I've bared my soul here and what can people say in response? Nothing really. I don't expect anyone to say anything for I write to get these thoughts ouf ot my head.
I'm a fairly mixed up fella. I'm lost and confused. It seems that any attempt at finding myself only ends in further confusion. It's the end of another year for me.
Last year in the middle of december i broke down in deep depression. Made a vow to God, you've got until the end of January to fix this, to fix me. I would not go another day living in this hell of a life i've made for myself. I was going to end it one way or another. That night I'd gone to sleep, the first in many, with the comfort that I had made a plan. A concerned friend asked if he should commit me or something to that effect. It's been an incredible year for me. I always set goals in december for what I will achieve the next year and I always meet my goals. Always. I did not set goals for this year. I have no idea if I've met my objectives for this year or not and I'm surprised that I'm still here. All I can say is God is merciful.
This has been the year of identity for me. I've been stripped of everything i've defined myself by and the only things that remain are truly who I am. My management job was taken from me. I took a 12k pay cut in the process and I'm serving in a technical capacity in the group i used to manage. It's been humbling to say the least. I'm thankful that i still have a job. I am very thankful. I went searching for my family in several online databases and could find nothing. I don't know who I am or where I come from. I have no sense of origin. I exist only because it pleases God. I am an orphan in many respects. I am cut off from my mother's family and at my father's choosing I am cut off from his family as well. I am the only generation of Grant. It began and ended with me. I have no sons to carry on the name my father gave me. (My father changed his surname in 1966 from Garcia to Grant for reasons unknown. Even my mother has no idea why he chose Grant.) Juan Garcia was my father's father. I wish I could have met him. I just wish I could have some sense of heritage. I probably descend from some line of bastards. My father was. My grandmother was not married to Juan Garcia. He apparently was married to my grandmother's sister. Her name was Schneckenberger at the time. So i find she was fooling around on the side. My sister is a lot like her actually. It is interesting see how generation after generation passes down their curses.
I wonder often, who am I? Why am I here. In my protestant days I believed God called me to the ministry. I was only seventeeen but i believed it so strongly that I applied to five different bible colleges and was accepted to four out of the five. I didn't properly fill out my application to Wheaton College. I hate the cold but it seemed like a great place to go. At 19, a felt a leading to be an evangelist. Such a crazy thought. I used to look up to Jimmy Swaggart and even looked at going to his college just a year before his big fall. How different life was for me in those days.
Here I am 20 years later. I am orthodox. I have turned away from my protestant ways and yet i wonder about all that calling stuff. Was I really called of God? I don't know. Certainly my priest has said "NO" in no uncertain terms. I can't even serve at our church and he's right. I watched one of our leaders become a deacon. What an awesome responsibility. I take it all so lightly. I barely go to church and still i want to serve. I asked if I could be a reader. I was told that since I cannot be ordained a priest, I cannot be a reader.
I have no identity.
I am just a guy.
I am just some guy who wakes up day after day after day. I have no purpose. No sense of being. Its 38 years later and I am no closer to understanding who I am.
Maybe someday it will all make sense to me. Maybe someday I will find out who I really am. But for now it is enough to wake up in the morning and go to work. No actually it is not. I really want some sense of being, some purpose to being. I don't believe in chance. I believe we each were created for a reason. I am still waiting to find out why I am here.
-j.
I'm a fairly mixed up fella. I'm lost and confused. It seems that any attempt at finding myself only ends in further confusion. It's the end of another year for me.
Last year in the middle of december i broke down in deep depression. Made a vow to God, you've got until the end of January to fix this, to fix me. I would not go another day living in this hell of a life i've made for myself. I was going to end it one way or another. That night I'd gone to sleep, the first in many, with the comfort that I had made a plan. A concerned friend asked if he should commit me or something to that effect. It's been an incredible year for me. I always set goals in december for what I will achieve the next year and I always meet my goals. Always. I did not set goals for this year. I have no idea if I've met my objectives for this year or not and I'm surprised that I'm still here. All I can say is God is merciful.
This has been the year of identity for me. I've been stripped of everything i've defined myself by and the only things that remain are truly who I am. My management job was taken from me. I took a 12k pay cut in the process and I'm serving in a technical capacity in the group i used to manage. It's been humbling to say the least. I'm thankful that i still have a job. I am very thankful. I went searching for my family in several online databases and could find nothing. I don't know who I am or where I come from. I have no sense of origin. I exist only because it pleases God. I am an orphan in many respects. I am cut off from my mother's family and at my father's choosing I am cut off from his family as well. I am the only generation of Grant. It began and ended with me. I have no sons to carry on the name my father gave me. (My father changed his surname in 1966 from Garcia to Grant for reasons unknown. Even my mother has no idea why he chose Grant.) Juan Garcia was my father's father. I wish I could have met him. I just wish I could have some sense of heritage. I probably descend from some line of bastards. My father was. My grandmother was not married to Juan Garcia. He apparently was married to my grandmother's sister. Her name was Schneckenberger at the time. So i find she was fooling around on the side. My sister is a lot like her actually. It is interesting see how generation after generation passes down their curses.
I wonder often, who am I? Why am I here. In my protestant days I believed God called me to the ministry. I was only seventeeen but i believed it so strongly that I applied to five different bible colleges and was accepted to four out of the five. I didn't properly fill out my application to Wheaton College. I hate the cold but it seemed like a great place to go. At 19, a felt a leading to be an evangelist. Such a crazy thought. I used to look up to Jimmy Swaggart and even looked at going to his college just a year before his big fall. How different life was for me in those days.
Here I am 20 years later. I am orthodox. I have turned away from my protestant ways and yet i wonder about all that calling stuff. Was I really called of God? I don't know. Certainly my priest has said "NO" in no uncertain terms. I can't even serve at our church and he's right. I watched one of our leaders become a deacon. What an awesome responsibility. I take it all so lightly. I barely go to church and still i want to serve. I asked if I could be a reader. I was told that since I cannot be ordained a priest, I cannot be a reader.
I have no identity.
I am just a guy.
I am just some guy who wakes up day after day after day. I have no purpose. No sense of being. Its 38 years later and I am no closer to understanding who I am.
Maybe someday it will all make sense to me. Maybe someday I will find out who I really am. But for now it is enough to wake up in the morning and go to work. No actually it is not. I really want some sense of being, some purpose to being. I don't believe in chance. I believe we each were created for a reason. I am still waiting to find out why I am here.
-j.