As I sit here, right now in the middle of one of what I would call: my down days, I wonder if God really does exist. And if he exists, does he even care about me and my circumstances. And more to the point, is he really moved enough to help me?
It seems that as one gets older, the waters of reason and faith become muddied by the silt of experience.
Having mental health issues, especially chronic ones such as I have, means that a person often doesn’t see the world as ‘normal’ people see it: I’m not talking about perspective, more perception.
Their thought patterns, like my thought patterns, can be compared to a tumble-drier where all the thoughts are constantly being ‘jumbled up.’ Where nothing makes sense, and even memory and reason go ‘out the window!’
So, you lie in bed, not so much because you are tired, but more that lying under the covers creates a sense of comfort; of relief; of security. You imagine that at least the bed cares about you, understands you, and gives you practical support. And when things threaten to become overwhelming, you always have the fall-back of pulling the cover over your head and saying: “GO AWAY!!”
Sounds silly doesn’t it? But it all goes back to what I said earlier about perception. I think that we as humans are all victims of perception. By that I mean: increasingly each of us is not really accepted as we are – as our true selves- more and more we are perceived simply as a means to an end!
Take manufacturers and advertisers for example. Don’t they regard people as ‘consumers?’ Or take politicians: don’t they simply see each of us as potential votes? You see what I’m getting at?
Nobody see a person for what they really are, let alone accept us just as we are. We are there to be used: a ‘means to an end.
If that is true, then where does that leave us?
I said at the beginning of this thought that I wondered if God really exists and if he is even moved enough to care for me. You probably wonder why anyone would even ask that?
Is it not because, in a world where humans are becoming increasingly marginalized and anonymized, we just want to know that we matter…
Image: Alone in the big bed, by heartz0mbie.deviantart.com.