Nightmare does not begin to describe some of the things that go through my mind. Scrupulosity is a form of OCD that pertains to religious. People that have this form of OCD frequently feel that they have to follow Scripture perfectly or that they have to do religious rituals perfectly or they will end up being condemned by God. A lot of times people with this type of OCD feel that they have to pray repeatedly to counter bad thoughts that are going through their mind. Others may feel that they have to, say, memorize Bible Verses to perfection if they want to find salvation. One description of a person involves them having Blasphemous thoughts while they were reading the Bible.
In my instance I don't really feel like telling people about the things that go through my head because of the fact that society as a whole is condemning of such things. If I went to my pastor and told him about several of the things that went through my head I fear that I would get condemned and pushes out of the church (although this is as a whole probably an unrealistic thing). I also fear that I would probably be put out of my job because of the fears these days over people that have mental disabilities.
Most people pray because of the fact that there is something going on in their life that they need God's help or because of crisis that their church, their friends, or their family may be going through or in many cases prayer means giving thanksgiving for what one has in life. In my case I am very blessed and thankful for the things that I have received but at the same time I tend to push the need to pray to the limits.
About a year ago I was going through a phase where I was praying for each one of the customers that I was about to ship an order to. I felt that if I prayed for each one of these people that it would make me a stronger person spiritually. Unfortunately it also slowed down my orders per hour rate (I work for a large distributor of art and craft supplies) to the point where I had a chat with my supervisor about it. He also mentioned that he had noticed the praying that was going on and if I stopped the praying that I would probably go faster. Another one of my supervisors warned me that praying was not allowed during company time and that if he saw me doing it repeatedly that it might lead to a write-up. It was not too long after that I found out that one of my supervisors actually suffers from OCD herself and goes through some of the same compulsions that I go through so this was a blessing. I also found relief from going to a local anxiety resource center in Grand Rapids, Michigan and interacting with some of the wonderful people down there.
About 3 years ago I was reading the Bible and found it a self-necessity to memorize the whole entire Bible starting from Genesis. I would spend hours a day on average going over the same passages in the Bible until I knew them by heart. Part of me was telling me that in order to be a good Christian I had to make sure that I knew each one of the scripture passages by heart. Unfortunately it got to the point where I was memorizing Revelations and I was starting to have panic attacks about when the Antichrist would show up and when and if the Rapture would take place. Finally things worsened to the point where I ended up in the hospital for about 3 weeks (this is about the extent of what I am going to say about this matter).
When I came out of the hospital I found it a struggle to give up memorizing the Bible verses. Eventually it changed over to watching videos on Youtube about these things (about 4 days ago out of impulse I actually ended up doing this same thing again). I would watch videos about Hell and the Lake of Fire and it wouldn't just be one video that I'd be content to stop at, I'd watch two or three of them, sometimes more than one time.
My sleeping patterns are also impacted by OCD. During the time before I was hospitalized I ended up having bad dreams about prison camps and about the Antichrist and several other Bible-related issues. In most cases I would end up only getting two or three hours of sleep because of the sheer terror that I was going through. My dad and stepmother had no idea what was going on inside my head. It took a great deal of courage and strength to finally tell my dad and stepmom the truth, that I needed help, that I needed to spend time with medical professionals watching over me.
Compulsive praying is something that comes and goes on a regular basis during an average day. On average I will spend a period of 2-5 minutes asking God to help me to overcome Sin and the Devil. The compulsion will frequently disappear for a set period of time and then I will be back to doing it again. In some cases the compulsion will disappear for hours on hand, and on some occasion that urge to pray will come back after 10 or 15 minutes have gone by. Stress is one of the chief factors that determines how often I pray to myself, on average if I am stressed out about something or hanging out around people that are talking a certain way I will feel that compulsion hit me suddenly and in the end I may find myself having to get up and move to a different table.
There have also been times when 3 or 4 thoughts of a religious nature will circulate through my head and they won't go away for hours. When this happens during working hours I find it incredibly difficult to concentrate on what I am trying to do. Sometimes I will get to talking to someone and all of the sudden one of these intrusive thoughts will hit me and I'll have trouble trying to convey appropriately the idea that I am trying to get across to the person in front of me. I find it happens more frequently if I get to thinking that the person is going to judge me for the way that I look or the way that I am talking to them.
A type of therapy called exposure therapy is available, which involves the person telling a tape recorder and a trained psychiatrist exactly what is going through their head but I am a very timid person and I would find it very difficult to sit down with a specialist and tell them and a tape recorder what kind of stuff is going through my head because I have no idea of knowing what they are going to think of me.
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Thursday, January 24, 2013
3605
As weird as the title may sound this is not a building address and no I'm not giving out the pin number for my bank account either. In the breakroom at Notions is a jukebox and in the jukebox is a n album by Nelly. The fifth song on the this album, which is the thirty sixth album (3605), is known as Pimpjuice, and I've had mixed feeling about this song. The first time I heard the song the one thing that jumped out at me was the bass part which shook the walls. I had no idea that the song was connected to a guy that I would become friends with, a man who has a passion for writing music. I also had no idea that this very song would be played over again by this person, who I will call Jackson, and others that associated with him to the point where I didn't want to hear it anymore.
There was actually one break that stands out in my mind because the song was playing right as I entered the breakroom and the maintenance woman Cara told me in a sarcastic manner the whole story about how one of Jackson's buddies made sure that the song played at least four times. Apparently Jackson and his crew were having too much fun on that particular morning. Makes me wonder how many sugar donuts and cups of coffee had passed between them.
Yet the prankster in me can't resist walking over the jukebox and hitting 3605 everytime Jackson walks in the room just so that I can watch the ruckus that occurs. Fingers almost always come out and start pointing when someone enters those numbers on the jukebox and that song starts. "It was him! I saw him go over there and do it" is the cry that too often comes from the maws of more than one of my friends. Jackson has gotten to the point where he can type the numbers in without being seen by anyone. By contrast, I am almost always spotted by Jackson or one of his buddies.
So the question going through my mind is do I really love this song or do I really hate this song? Is this a song used to get revenge on my friend for all the times that he played it for me or to feed his ego and make him the "3605 man". Geez maybe one of these days we can write a song about the man and his song, set it to "Piano Man". What is "My Pimpjuice" anyway? Never really stopped to pay attention to the words to that song for all the times that I've heard it. Maybe it's another word for gin and juice.
There was actually one break that stands out in my mind because the song was playing right as I entered the breakroom and the maintenance woman Cara told me in a sarcastic manner the whole story about how one of Jackson's buddies made sure that the song played at least four times. Apparently Jackson and his crew were having too much fun on that particular morning. Makes me wonder how many sugar donuts and cups of coffee had passed between them.
Yet the prankster in me can't resist walking over the jukebox and hitting 3605 everytime Jackson walks in the room just so that I can watch the ruckus that occurs. Fingers almost always come out and start pointing when someone enters those numbers on the jukebox and that song starts. "It was him! I saw him go over there and do it" is the cry that too often comes from the maws of more than one of my friends. Jackson has gotten to the point where he can type the numbers in without being seen by anyone. By contrast, I am almost always spotted by Jackson or one of his buddies.
So the question going through my mind is do I really love this song or do I really hate this song? Is this a song used to get revenge on my friend for all the times that he played it for me or to feed his ego and make him the "3605 man". Geez maybe one of these days we can write a song about the man and his song, set it to "Piano Man". What is "My Pimpjuice" anyway? Never really stopped to pay attention to the words to that song for all the times that I've heard it. Maybe it's another word for gin and juice.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Anna Marie...a collage of my experiences
As I sit here in my comfortable condominium on my cushy couch I am thinking about the past, thinking about how I used to go down to Florida every year with my mother. We had our yearly routine for a while, I would fly into Tampa International or sometimes another airport and then I would meet my mother at the gate and we would head down to the baggage claim area. It was always easy spotting my luggage because it usually had a string of yarn tied around it. The waiting was what got to me because there were times when the luggage would come down a different conveyor belt than the one that we had originally planned on. On a few occasions the luggage had to be delivered to either my mothers house or to the hotel that we were staying at on Anna Marie Island. One of the joys of flying.
Once the luggage was settled we would usually head for my mother's car and she parked in all sorts of different spots. There was an elevator at the Tampa International Airport that we would take up to the lot that she had parked in and as I recall it was called the Chuck Yeager Elevator (and still is for that matter). When you are walking in the terminal of Tampa International Airport you pass a painting of the first commercial airliner ever to arrive in Tampa. At least once or twice I have stopped to gaze at that picture.
A long car ride usually followed, and depending on the itinerary that my mother and I were following we would either take 75 to a junction eastbound or we would head west to Bradenton and Anna Maria Island. For the purposes of this article I am going to recall one of the times when we headed west to Bradenton and the beach first. Before you reach Bradenton you end up on a very long stretch of I-75 that takes you out of Tampa and over a beautiful suspension bridge known as the Sunshine Skyway. The Sunshine Skyway is a marvel of engineering and you can't help but be awed by the canary yellow beams that hold the bridge up as you drive. These beams are vertical/diagonal and come together at two points on the bridge.
Normally my mother and I would be catching up on what had been going on in my life up to that point and of course we liked to play games with each other. Going over the bay was also an opportunity for me to check out the water and see if I could try and spot the spouts and fins of dolphins that usually hung out in the area. Often times I would see at least two of them together, usually a mother and a calf. As a matter of fact the local tourism industry thrives on these animals, on taking people out dolphin watching. One of the local tour excursions involves a medium-sized boat designed to look like a pirate ship and people will get on board the boat and usually have a lunch and will do some dolphin spotting and I might be mistaken but they have stuff geared towards the kiddies as well on this excursion.
One of my favorite things to do back in those days was to eat at the seafood restaurants. There are quite a few good seafood shacks once you get into Bradenton. One is called The Beach House and is out on Anna Marie Island. There was at least one time when my mother and I ate at this particular joint. I remember it vividly because sitting across from us was a group of Canadian Tourists celebrating a birthday. That particular night I decided that I wanted to walk back to the hotel that we were staying at, the Silver Surf, and as I walked I listened to the pounding of the huge waves on the white sandy shore. I knew that somewhere out in the water were rays and skates, and I didn't want to take chances on getting stung so what I ended up doing was taking my shoes off and letting the water lap in and out around my feet. Sometimes I would walk down close to the waves and other times I would walk closer in to the land.
On my way home that night I passed the Gulf Drive Cafe, another great place to eat. They have a good "It's All Greek To Me" burger on their menu with Feta Cheese on it and of course they have wonderful fish sandwiches there as well. Usually my mother and I liked to sit out on the front porch because that restaurant happens to have these big heaters out there that would keep the customers warm on nights when it would get down into the 50's which it had a tendency to do in the wintertime. The service there is wonderful, and there would be times when I would come back down later in the evenings by myself, sometimes with a book, sometimes not, and have a "nightcap" which consisted of a cup of coffee and piece of pie of some kind or another. The desserts at the Gulf Drive are all top rate, and one of the best things in the world that a person can do is go down there in the evening and watch the Sun go down over the Gulf.
I have numerous tales to tell of the times that I have spent walking or running on the beach. In the late 90's I would often run on the beach in an effort to try and stay in shape. It was my hope that one day I would be able to run in our local 25K run up here in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Many times I would have Franklin's Gulls, Sanderlings, and Willets pacing themselves to try and stay ahead of me. I have had my dreams of owning property down on Anna Marie Island but it is way out of the price range of this simple blogger from Michigan. I would see people sitting out sunning themselves and would give them a simple salute or "Hi" off the top of my breath as I tryed to catch my breath and stay at a steady pace. There was one time that I had a CD player on me and AC/DC was roaring in my ears.
There was another time that I was out on the beach talking to God, asking him when it would be my time, when I would have the chance to find someone special. As I remember I was sitting on a beach chair and looking up at the stars, just letting the sound of the ocean fill me. As I talked to God I suddenly heard a yell from a nearby table. Turns out some swimmers from a college up north were doing some training and were taking a break. There were about 2 guys and 2 girls as I remember things and they were playing some music on a ghetto blaster. I offered to go and to get some of my own tunes but it would have to wait because they had to head back in. Turns out I didn't see these folks again, which kind of sucks because I had the opportunity there to make a couple of friends. As a person with Aspergers it can be difficult.
The other side of Anna Marie Island is worth mentioning as well. A walk on the city pier will take you right underneath a clock with a bell and one must be very careful not to walk under there at the top of the hour or you will get a jump for sure. At the end of the City Pier is a wonderful Cafe and I most certainly would like to take a moment here to recognize their omelettes and food in general as being top notch. People love to sit and fish off the City Pier, and many of them are locals using shrimps or minnows as bait to catch larger fish. I can only imagine what it must be like being a minnow or a shrimp on one of those hooks, knowing that a strange animal is about to throw you into the water and that you're going to quite possibly be a meal for another fish. On one occasion my mother and I met an interesting Hispanic woman here and chatted with her.
Anyhow my eyes are starting to get droopy so I'm going to call it a night folks. Time to turn up the heat and the electric blanket and pray that it doesn't snow too hard.
Once the luggage was settled we would usually head for my mother's car and she parked in all sorts of different spots. There was an elevator at the Tampa International Airport that we would take up to the lot that she had parked in and as I recall it was called the Chuck Yeager Elevator (and still is for that matter). When you are walking in the terminal of Tampa International Airport you pass a painting of the first commercial airliner ever to arrive in Tampa. At least once or twice I have stopped to gaze at that picture.
A long car ride usually followed, and depending on the itinerary that my mother and I were following we would either take 75 to a junction eastbound or we would head west to Bradenton and Anna Maria Island. For the purposes of this article I am going to recall one of the times when we headed west to Bradenton and the beach first. Before you reach Bradenton you end up on a very long stretch of I-75 that takes you out of Tampa and over a beautiful suspension bridge known as the Sunshine Skyway. The Sunshine Skyway is a marvel of engineering and you can't help but be awed by the canary yellow beams that hold the bridge up as you drive. These beams are vertical/diagonal and come together at two points on the bridge.
Normally my mother and I would be catching up on what had been going on in my life up to that point and of course we liked to play games with each other. Going over the bay was also an opportunity for me to check out the water and see if I could try and spot the spouts and fins of dolphins that usually hung out in the area. Often times I would see at least two of them together, usually a mother and a calf. As a matter of fact the local tourism industry thrives on these animals, on taking people out dolphin watching. One of the local tour excursions involves a medium-sized boat designed to look like a pirate ship and people will get on board the boat and usually have a lunch and will do some dolphin spotting and I might be mistaken but they have stuff geared towards the kiddies as well on this excursion.
One of my favorite things to do back in those days was to eat at the seafood restaurants. There are quite a few good seafood shacks once you get into Bradenton. One is called The Beach House and is out on Anna Marie Island. There was at least one time when my mother and I ate at this particular joint. I remember it vividly because sitting across from us was a group of Canadian Tourists celebrating a birthday. That particular night I decided that I wanted to walk back to the hotel that we were staying at, the Silver Surf, and as I walked I listened to the pounding of the huge waves on the white sandy shore. I knew that somewhere out in the water were rays and skates, and I didn't want to take chances on getting stung so what I ended up doing was taking my shoes off and letting the water lap in and out around my feet. Sometimes I would walk down close to the waves and other times I would walk closer in to the land.
On my way home that night I passed the Gulf Drive Cafe, another great place to eat. They have a good "It's All Greek To Me" burger on their menu with Feta Cheese on it and of course they have wonderful fish sandwiches there as well. Usually my mother and I liked to sit out on the front porch because that restaurant happens to have these big heaters out there that would keep the customers warm on nights when it would get down into the 50's which it had a tendency to do in the wintertime. The service there is wonderful, and there would be times when I would come back down later in the evenings by myself, sometimes with a book, sometimes not, and have a "nightcap" which consisted of a cup of coffee and piece of pie of some kind or another. The desserts at the Gulf Drive are all top rate, and one of the best things in the world that a person can do is go down there in the evening and watch the Sun go down over the Gulf.
I have numerous tales to tell of the times that I have spent walking or running on the beach. In the late 90's I would often run on the beach in an effort to try and stay in shape. It was my hope that one day I would be able to run in our local 25K run up here in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Many times I would have Franklin's Gulls, Sanderlings, and Willets pacing themselves to try and stay ahead of me. I have had my dreams of owning property down on Anna Marie Island but it is way out of the price range of this simple blogger from Michigan. I would see people sitting out sunning themselves and would give them a simple salute or "Hi" off the top of my breath as I tryed to catch my breath and stay at a steady pace. There was one time that I had a CD player on me and AC/DC was roaring in my ears.
There was another time that I was out on the beach talking to God, asking him when it would be my time, when I would have the chance to find someone special. As I remember I was sitting on a beach chair and looking up at the stars, just letting the sound of the ocean fill me. As I talked to God I suddenly heard a yell from a nearby table. Turns out some swimmers from a college up north were doing some training and were taking a break. There were about 2 guys and 2 girls as I remember things and they were playing some music on a ghetto blaster. I offered to go and to get some of my own tunes but it would have to wait because they had to head back in. Turns out I didn't see these folks again, which kind of sucks because I had the opportunity there to make a couple of friends. As a person with Aspergers it can be difficult.
The other side of Anna Marie Island is worth mentioning as well. A walk on the city pier will take you right underneath a clock with a bell and one must be very careful not to walk under there at the top of the hour or you will get a jump for sure. At the end of the City Pier is a wonderful Cafe and I most certainly would like to take a moment here to recognize their omelettes and food in general as being top notch. People love to sit and fish off the City Pier, and many of them are locals using shrimps or minnows as bait to catch larger fish. I can only imagine what it must be like being a minnow or a shrimp on one of those hooks, knowing that a strange animal is about to throw you into the water and that you're going to quite possibly be a meal for another fish. On one occasion my mother and I met an interesting Hispanic woman here and chatted with her.
Anyhow my eyes are starting to get droopy so I'm going to call it a night folks. Time to turn up the heat and the electric blanket and pray that it doesn't snow too hard.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
The Cottage..Pt 2
As we exited the channel my mother pushed a button on the throttle that made the propeller blades on the outboard half of the Inboard-Outboard motor adjust. Once the seaweed was off the propeller my mother pushed the throttle forward and the boat jumped out of the water as the 3.0 liter Mercruiser Four Cylinder engine roared to life. As I looked around the lake memories flooded back, memories of when I had taken boat rides with my grandparents in their Johnson-powered boat. Within about six minutes we reached the other side of the lake and the cottage.
The man who was in charge of renting the cottage met us at the dock and he helped us to tie up and then gave my mother a lesson on how to start the boat. The cottage had 3 bedrooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms, a spacious front porch with a grill and chairs, and the whole cottage was white clapboard with black shutters. Not long after our arrival my brother pulled up in his Subaru Legacy with my 9 and 11 year old nephews in tow. After unloading the car my brother and mother trusted me to watch after the kids while they drove up to Wawasee to pick up my mother's car.
The television in the front room didn't have cable but the kids didn't need cable to entertain them. As goofy as they were they got pleasure out of watching the snow and the test patterns on some of the channels. Later they ran into the bathroom and closed the door, starting in with their bathroom humor. Once my brother and mother returned from the other side of the lake we inflated the rafts and the River Rat tubes that my mother had bought to entertain the kids.
Once the rafts were inflated the fun began and I entered the water with my brother and the kids. My younger nephew played a game of "Shark with me" and wanted me to act like he wasn't there so he could jump all over me and make me into his victim. Eventually we changed roles and I was the Shark that was preying on him. All the while that this was going on my brother and my other nephew were squabbling in the large yellow raft with oars and quite naturally my younger nephew Sean got into it and started spashing Will.
The whole time that this was going on I took one of the River Rat Tubes and tried to get on top of it while standing in the water. When this didn't work quite the way I intended it to work I ended up standing on the pier, throwing the tube in the water, and then jumping on the tube. After managing to balance myself on top of the tube I tried to relax and float around the area next to the dock only to have my younger nephew Sean try and pull me off the raft. On top of that every time that I floated near the neighbor's boat resting on top of the launch I ended up having to push myself off so that I wouldn't float underneath one of the boats and end up hitting my head.
Eventually my mother asked us all if we wanted to take a boat ride and we piled into the boat. My mother was still having trouble trying to remember the exact procedure for starting the boat and so I tried to help her but I ended up making things worse because the boat flew forward. None of us had remembered that the clutch had to be popped on the throttle and that you had to throw the throttle into fast idle in order to get the motor to start. My two nephews seated themselves in the back of the boat and my older nephew was still pouting at me because I had made the mistake of getting upset with him about his breaking the side lever on one of the living room chairs (the lever that makes the footrest come out).
Once we had untied the boat and backed out I took a seat next to my nephew Sean. After clearing the dock my mother pushed the throttle forward and the boat gradually accelerated to around 30 knots. My mother turned the boat towards the channel and I felt the adrenaline rush through me as the boat surged through the water. There is no other experience in the world like taking a boat ride. The wind blows through your hair, you can feel the spray of the water occasionally, and on top of that you have the roar of the motor. Although the little four cylinder had a loud sound to it, I was still able to hear my nephew Sean and all that he had to say and at the same time I asked Will to forgive me for what I had done earlier and I told him that I forgave him as well.
The man who was in charge of renting the cottage met us at the dock and he helped us to tie up and then gave my mother a lesson on how to start the boat. The cottage had 3 bedrooms, a kitchen, two bathrooms, a spacious front porch with a grill and chairs, and the whole cottage was white clapboard with black shutters. Not long after our arrival my brother pulled up in his Subaru Legacy with my 9 and 11 year old nephews in tow. After unloading the car my brother and mother trusted me to watch after the kids while they drove up to Wawasee to pick up my mother's car.
The television in the front room didn't have cable but the kids didn't need cable to entertain them. As goofy as they were they got pleasure out of watching the snow and the test patterns on some of the channels. Later they ran into the bathroom and closed the door, starting in with their bathroom humor. Once my brother and mother returned from the other side of the lake we inflated the rafts and the River Rat tubes that my mother had bought to entertain the kids.
Once the rafts were inflated the fun began and I entered the water with my brother and the kids. My younger nephew played a game of "Shark with me" and wanted me to act like he wasn't there so he could jump all over me and make me into his victim. Eventually we changed roles and I was the Shark that was preying on him. All the while that this was going on my brother and my other nephew were squabbling in the large yellow raft with oars and quite naturally my younger nephew Sean got into it and started spashing Will.
The whole time that this was going on I took one of the River Rat Tubes and tried to get on top of it while standing in the water. When this didn't work quite the way I intended it to work I ended up standing on the pier, throwing the tube in the water, and then jumping on the tube. After managing to balance myself on top of the tube I tried to relax and float around the area next to the dock only to have my younger nephew Sean try and pull me off the raft. On top of that every time that I floated near the neighbor's boat resting on top of the launch I ended up having to push myself off so that I wouldn't float underneath one of the boats and end up hitting my head.
Eventually my mother asked us all if we wanted to take a boat ride and we piled into the boat. My mother was still having trouble trying to remember the exact procedure for starting the boat and so I tried to help her but I ended up making things worse because the boat flew forward. None of us had remembered that the clutch had to be popped on the throttle and that you had to throw the throttle into fast idle in order to get the motor to start. My two nephews seated themselves in the back of the boat and my older nephew was still pouting at me because I had made the mistake of getting upset with him about his breaking the side lever on one of the living room chairs (the lever that makes the footrest come out).
Once we had untied the boat and backed out I took a seat next to my nephew Sean. After clearing the dock my mother pushed the throttle forward and the boat gradually accelerated to around 30 knots. My mother turned the boat towards the channel and I felt the adrenaline rush through me as the boat surged through the water. There is no other experience in the world like taking a boat ride. The wind blows through your hair, you can feel the spray of the water occasionally, and on top of that you have the roar of the motor. Although the little four cylinder had a loud sound to it, I was still able to hear my nephew Sean and all that he had to say and at the same time I asked Will to forgive me for what I had done earlier and I told him that I forgave him as well.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Change....how losing my last job affected my autism
As I sit at my grey-and-black PC in the middle of my somewhat disheveled desk my ears ring with the delights of Bach's Prelude and Fugue in G major. I think to myself, one day that might be me sitting at an organ trying to conquer that mountain of a piece, but it is not this day. This day I practice on an outdated organ that frankly could use a litte help and although my ears don't appreciate the torture of that 1968 Allen's ersatz electronic sound my mind knows that for the time being I have no choice but to put up with it. To keep the circuit board on the organ from overheating I use a box fan that screams out it's own note and I end up having to keep the expression pedal open in order to counter that falsetto note.
I could just assume pretend that I am sitting at Catherine's five keyboards with her full length pedalboard beneath my feet but that is a long stretch seeing as the sound combinations are endless with her and with the little ersatz engine that is trying of an organ in my front room there are basically only two or three different combinations. But then my mind drifts back to Cesar Franck sitting at a harmonium (basically another word for pump organ) in the 1840s composing pieces that could be played on both the harmonium and the magnificent Cavaille Coll instrument at St. Denis. With the harmonium Franck basically had a limit to the sound combinations he could produce. At his best with all the stops drawn the sound was still reedy and didn't resemble pipes. I guess you could call my Allen a modern day harmonium with pedals (although it's rather stale sounding electronic sounds instead of reeds basically). Often times I have thought about owning a small reed organ for my condo although most pump organs don't have a pedalboard (some of the bigger models did). By contrast, Catherine will never quite be a Cavaille Coll organ. She falls into a musical category all her own. Cavaille Colls with their powerful reeds in both the manual and pedal and equally soft and beautiful strings were the instruments that inspired the organ symphonies of the 19th century. Catherine was built by a man, E.M. Skinner, who went his own direction after working with Farrand and Votey in the 1890s.
But anyhow, to get down to the topic at hand, as many of you know my world came crashing down all around me last friday. I was at my station working on a packaging job when my supervisor walked up to me with some papers in her hand and took me down and set me down in one of our sister company's offices at the other end of the warehouse. In her slim hand she held a bunch of white papers and on the top of the front paper was the word "Unemployment". Suddenly, nerves in my brain started to fire and it kept all of my self control to stay seated and listen to what she had to say to me. She basically stated that starting monday I was unemployed as well as a gal that worked over at the office. I wanted to sit there and shake my head and say to her "How did it come down to this?!" but ultimately I felt a courage I had never felt before well up inside of me. Bravely I asked the question that I needed to ask her. "How long is it going to be?". Afer she described to me what the owner had relayed to her, I sucked it up again and asked "How do I go about getting benefits?". I knew at that moment what was going on. I knew that part of our risen lord Jesus Christ was keeping me from breaking down into tears and was helping me instead to take it like a man should.
Come Friday evening, I said my goodbyes and found myself reassuring my friends at Fastener World and SAE that "I'd be back" and "it's not going to last all that long". Part of me wonders what I'm going to end up saying to them in about a month when I go to work for someone else and I have to tell them that I'm probably never going to be seeing them on a day-to-day basis again. As a rode home on the bus, I tried to keep my head high but there was a sense of disappointment lurking deep inside me somewhere. Part of me wanted to be angry at Kevin for being a cheapskate but at the same time part of me knew that the recession and the bad economy had finally claimed my job. As strange as it sounds, I felt the way I usually do as I headed home that Friday. I hadn't gotten out of routine yet.
When I woke up Monday morning at 7:30 and went through my daily routine of brushing my teeth and shaving, taking my meds, and showering, all of the sudden it hit me. I was on an "extended vacation" for the first time in my life and believe me when I say that my nerve endings were firing a little bit. With an Asperger's person, there is a difference in the way that the amygdala operates. I realized that not only was I not going to be heading out to the bus stop, but I had meetings coming up with my case management having to do with getting the ball rolling on finding another job and getting my unemployment benefits going and my SSI increased. I took a deep breath and I said to myself, "Darin, it's all going to work out. Christ is watching out for you. All of this is a part of God's greater plan.". Consequentially, my meeting with my case manager's boss went very well. I spent the rest of the day doing various things, including talking to my friends online and telling them what had happened.
So far, everything had gone smoothly. As I always do, I said my prayers, turned on a CD of crickets and rain in the African bush, and fell off to sleep. Then, about 4:00 this morning my routine readjustment syndrome started with a loud bang. I woke up and although I wanted to go back to sleep my body wouldn't let me. All I could think about was what my online pen pals around the world were up to, thinking to myself, they still have jobs and things that they could be doing. I was determined not to let myself drift into an early morning sob story. Jumping out of bed, I hit the button that started my crickets CD. I pulled the covers over me and tried to shut my eyes but some part of my brain said to me, "No, you're not going to do it! You're going to stay awake and think about talking with your case worker at 7:00. And dammit stop thinking about that girl! You're never EVER going to be finding that soulmate because it's not in the masterplan. She doesn't like you so go to bed!". I finally drifted off for an hour around 6:30 but that was it, basically.
This is my life. Laying alone in that bed, staring at the digits that my fancy alarm clock was projecting on the ceiling, thinking about a relationship that was probably never going to happen, realizing that noone would ever be waking up saying, "What's wrong sweetie?", my obsessing mind would not let me go to sleep. The crickets were in vain because they were drowned out by what my inner self was saying. The reason I will never be able to find anyone is because I have such problems making the first move. The timid side of me just doesn't want to do it. Girls tell me that "I'm busy and can't talk" as a disguised way of saying "Go away, I don't want to talk to you. You're a wierd ass freak.". Sorry, but guess what! I'm proud to be a nerd and a freak and whatever they want to say about me. Who else would write a story about their experience losing their job? To everyone else, it's a process that's a part of life. To an Aspie like me, it's like getting stuck with a knife. As much as you try to suck it up, that knife wound in the routine is not going to go away that easily. It takes a couple of days for a guy like me to get adjusted to doing things a different way, and there's not one damned thing I can do about it.
The campaign slogan for the last election was "Change we can believe in". I think the reason why change has been a little easier for me to deal with is because of my faith that Jesus is going to carry me through these tough times, just like the line out of the poem "Footprints in the sand". I just want to take a moment to thank all of my friends for their support, you know who you are, and that I am grateful to have you. Blessings.
I could just assume pretend that I am sitting at Catherine's five keyboards with her full length pedalboard beneath my feet but that is a long stretch seeing as the sound combinations are endless with her and with the little ersatz engine that is trying of an organ in my front room there are basically only two or three different combinations. But then my mind drifts back to Cesar Franck sitting at a harmonium (basically another word for pump organ) in the 1840s composing pieces that could be played on both the harmonium and the magnificent Cavaille Coll instrument at St. Denis. With the harmonium Franck basically had a limit to the sound combinations he could produce. At his best with all the stops drawn the sound was still reedy and didn't resemble pipes. I guess you could call my Allen a modern day harmonium with pedals (although it's rather stale sounding electronic sounds instead of reeds basically). Often times I have thought about owning a small reed organ for my condo although most pump organs don't have a pedalboard (some of the bigger models did). By contrast, Catherine will never quite be a Cavaille Coll organ. She falls into a musical category all her own. Cavaille Colls with their powerful reeds in both the manual and pedal and equally soft and beautiful strings were the instruments that inspired the organ symphonies of the 19th century. Catherine was built by a man, E.M. Skinner, who went his own direction after working with Farrand and Votey in the 1890s.
But anyhow, to get down to the topic at hand, as many of you know my world came crashing down all around me last friday. I was at my station working on a packaging job when my supervisor walked up to me with some papers in her hand and took me down and set me down in one of our sister company's offices at the other end of the warehouse. In her slim hand she held a bunch of white papers and on the top of the front paper was the word "Unemployment". Suddenly, nerves in my brain started to fire and it kept all of my self control to stay seated and listen to what she had to say to me. She basically stated that starting monday I was unemployed as well as a gal that worked over at the office. I wanted to sit there and shake my head and say to her "How did it come down to this?!" but ultimately I felt a courage I had never felt before well up inside of me. Bravely I asked the question that I needed to ask her. "How long is it going to be?". Afer she described to me what the owner had relayed to her, I sucked it up again and asked "How do I go about getting benefits?". I knew at that moment what was going on. I knew that part of our risen lord Jesus Christ was keeping me from breaking down into tears and was helping me instead to take it like a man should.
Come Friday evening, I said my goodbyes and found myself reassuring my friends at Fastener World and SAE that "I'd be back" and "it's not going to last all that long". Part of me wonders what I'm going to end up saying to them in about a month when I go to work for someone else and I have to tell them that I'm probably never going to be seeing them on a day-to-day basis again. As a rode home on the bus, I tried to keep my head high but there was a sense of disappointment lurking deep inside me somewhere. Part of me wanted to be angry at Kevin for being a cheapskate but at the same time part of me knew that the recession and the bad economy had finally claimed my job. As strange as it sounds, I felt the way I usually do as I headed home that Friday. I hadn't gotten out of routine yet.
When I woke up Monday morning at 7:30 and went through my daily routine of brushing my teeth and shaving, taking my meds, and showering, all of the sudden it hit me. I was on an "extended vacation" for the first time in my life and believe me when I say that my nerve endings were firing a little bit. With an Asperger's person, there is a difference in the way that the amygdala operates. I realized that not only was I not going to be heading out to the bus stop, but I had meetings coming up with my case management having to do with getting the ball rolling on finding another job and getting my unemployment benefits going and my SSI increased. I took a deep breath and I said to myself, "Darin, it's all going to work out. Christ is watching out for you. All of this is a part of God's greater plan.". Consequentially, my meeting with my case manager's boss went very well. I spent the rest of the day doing various things, including talking to my friends online and telling them what had happened.
So far, everything had gone smoothly. As I always do, I said my prayers, turned on a CD of crickets and rain in the African bush, and fell off to sleep. Then, about 4:00 this morning my routine readjustment syndrome started with a loud bang. I woke up and although I wanted to go back to sleep my body wouldn't let me. All I could think about was what my online pen pals around the world were up to, thinking to myself, they still have jobs and things that they could be doing. I was determined not to let myself drift into an early morning sob story. Jumping out of bed, I hit the button that started my crickets CD. I pulled the covers over me and tried to shut my eyes but some part of my brain said to me, "No, you're not going to do it! You're going to stay awake and think about talking with your case worker at 7:00. And dammit stop thinking about that girl! You're never EVER going to be finding that soulmate because it's not in the masterplan. She doesn't like you so go to bed!". I finally drifted off for an hour around 6:30 but that was it, basically.
This is my life. Laying alone in that bed, staring at the digits that my fancy alarm clock was projecting on the ceiling, thinking about a relationship that was probably never going to happen, realizing that noone would ever be waking up saying, "What's wrong sweetie?", my obsessing mind would not let me go to sleep. The crickets were in vain because they were drowned out by what my inner self was saying. The reason I will never be able to find anyone is because I have such problems making the first move. The timid side of me just doesn't want to do it. Girls tell me that "I'm busy and can't talk" as a disguised way of saying "Go away, I don't want to talk to you. You're a wierd ass freak.". Sorry, but guess what! I'm proud to be a nerd and a freak and whatever they want to say about me. Who else would write a story about their experience losing their job? To everyone else, it's a process that's a part of life. To an Aspie like me, it's like getting stuck with a knife. As much as you try to suck it up, that knife wound in the routine is not going to go away that easily. It takes a couple of days for a guy like me to get adjusted to doing things a different way, and there's not one damned thing I can do about it.
The campaign slogan for the last election was "Change we can believe in". I think the reason why change has been a little easier for me to deal with is because of my faith that Jesus is going to carry me through these tough times, just like the line out of the poem "Footprints in the sand". I just want to take a moment to thank all of my friends for their support, you know who you are, and that I am grateful to have you. Blessings.
My Journey with Autism...
It was 6:40 in the evening in a small two-bedroom apartment over on the southeast side of Grand Rapids and five people sat watching various cartoons. Having just enjoyed a wonderful meal they were starting to talk about watching a couple of movies. One of them is talking about looking up two of his old friends up online out of the blue to the teenage daughter of the woman that rents the apartment. The teenage daughter sits there clueless as to where the conversation came from, oblivious to the fact that the man is jittery and doesn't know what to say. Finally The woman and her friend and one of the daughters sit down on the couch and the man makes a comment that the woman finds not quite appropriate. The man's jitters by now have reached a high pinpoint. Three minutes later the man says "I have to go, I can't stay, I don't feel well. I enjoyed your cooking my friend". Without so much as a goodbye the man walks off into the night.
That man was me last night. I frequently have communication difficulties because I am in situations where I don't know what to say or how to react to a certain situation. The tornado sirens started wailing as a walked home trying to sort things out in my head. This is quite common for someone living on the Autistic Spectrum such as myself. It was about 15 minutes later that the woman's friend picked me up and I tried to explain to him what was going on and how I feel but I am at a loss for words even to describe how I can't process stimuli like a normal person.
I have actually been in this situation before at a family gathering where I have had to pull myself out because I felt the "jitters" going on and didn't know how to react and it was all welling up on the inside of me. All I can do is say that normal people have the ability to filter out certain excess stimuli that is going on in the world around me and that I don't have this particular gene and because of it sometimes I can't enjoy the things that other people are able to enjoy. For instance, in a crowded room with 15 conversations going on at once I have trouble trying to find one to stick to (this happens quite often in the parlor after church,I try to find someone that I can steadily converse with but I will have problems because I get distracted easily and my mind tends to be wandering on something else.)
Another trait of mine that shows up when I am nervous about something is that I tend to pace and that my fight or flight system of reaction is different. For instance, instead of asking for a ride home like I probably should I chose to walk out into the rainy night despite the fact that about 4 minutes later the Sirens were blaring. There was another time about a year and a half ago when I ended up walking almost 3 miles for a bus stop because of the way my mind was working instead of just catching the bus at the stop nearest the place where I had been. One of my other friends noticed my pacing the other day when I was hanging out with her and she had to explain to her friend standing nearby that I was on the autistic spectrum and that pacing was my way of reacting to anxiety.
My fear of loud noises has been an ongoing thing in my life and it is because of this that I have had so many problems being in places where there are balloons (because of the loud bang that they make) or bells (I used to have a terrible problem with this when I was in elementary school to the point where I would run around with my ears plugged. As wierd as I might have appeared to the other kids on the playground I was more concerned with how the noise was going to make me jump in the air or cause unpleasantness to my hearing. The first time that I went to Fountain Street Church and sat waiting for the pipe organ to start I had a little anxiety because I had no idea as to how loud the pipes were going to be. Once again this all has to do with the way my brain is wired.
I have a problem reacting to other people's anger. About 2 months ago I was helping a friend with the rehabilitation of a dog and she and I saw that he was bleeding . My friend was angry and I picked up on it to the point where I just blew up on her, cuss words that I normally don't speak also came out of my mouth. After hearing her frustration with me I apologized and explained that I couldn't deal with negativity in that fashion. A similar blowup happened about 4 years ago when a relative and I were on our way to hear a carillon. I had been depressed the whole time I was down there and finally it lead to me shouting that I just wanted to go home and wanting to head to the airport and get my ticket lined up. The day before I had been to see a movie with my relatives and I was feeling so bad I warned them that I wanted to go home.
Many times I find myself on a set routine and if I step out of t hat routine it can be terrifying for me. This is part of what was happening with the situation in the above paragraph. I had been away from home and out of my routine and finally the pressure inside of me built up to the point where I "cracked" in a release of angry proportions. On top of that I had been forced to adjust to the routines of two other people and wasn't able to do some of the things that were part of my daily life. Another example of this is to be found when I was working for my old company and I was moved from the warehouse that I was so used to into a warehouse that was completely different and on top of that I was introduced to a supervisor who insisted on teaching me to do packaging his way. Being squeezed into activities that were new to me was something that most normal people can probably cope with but that I have to adjust to over a long period.
At times I tend to perseverate on certain topics to the point where people will be only half interested, not interested in all, or completely put off. For instances, I will sometimes go on and on about organs or clocks to the point where people have no interest in having conversation with me because they don't understand exactly why it is that I am talking about these things. I will also spend hours sometimes watching videos of large bells on clocks bonging or listening to organ music on Youtube when part of me knows that I could probably be taking that time and spending it doing other more Productive things with my life. Aspergers people like me tend to get going on inappropriate topics at the wrong times as well. For instance, about 3 years ago in Las Vegas my family and I were having lunch at a buffet when I started talking politics with some people that I barely knew. It was later that my relative pointed out to me that my topic wasn't necessarily the right one for the situation and that I may have in fact put them off.
Dealing with autism is an uphill battle in my life but at the same time I have learned so much from my disorder. I have learned that noone in this world is perfect and that we need to steer away from being judgemental people and learn to respect one another. I have actually become a stronger person because of the fact that I am weak, as odd as that may sound. I am hoping that I will be able one day to achieve my dream of meeting a woman and starting a family as well as some of my career and religious goals despite the fact that my disability is a barrier sometimes. I am determined not to let autism be a hindrance but instead I look at the positive side of things. It is because of my autism that I have been blessed with this wonderful writing talent, with the intelligence that I have, a love for music, and with a better sensitivity of the needs of other people, and I am VERY thankful. To me, the positives outweigh the negatives. We all need to be able to put aside the negatives in our lives and focus on the positives.
That man was me last night. I frequently have communication difficulties because I am in situations where I don't know what to say or how to react to a certain situation. The tornado sirens started wailing as a walked home trying to sort things out in my head. This is quite common for someone living on the Autistic Spectrum such as myself. It was about 15 minutes later that the woman's friend picked me up and I tried to explain to him what was going on and how I feel but I am at a loss for words even to describe how I can't process stimuli like a normal person.
I have actually been in this situation before at a family gathering where I have had to pull myself out because I felt the "jitters" going on and didn't know how to react and it was all welling up on the inside of me. All I can do is say that normal people have the ability to filter out certain excess stimuli that is going on in the world around me and that I don't have this particular gene and because of it sometimes I can't enjoy the things that other people are able to enjoy. For instance, in a crowded room with 15 conversations going on at once I have trouble trying to find one to stick to (this happens quite often in the parlor after church,I try to find someone that I can steadily converse with but I will have problems because I get distracted easily and my mind tends to be wandering on something else.)
Another trait of mine that shows up when I am nervous about something is that I tend to pace and that my fight or flight system of reaction is different. For instance, instead of asking for a ride home like I probably should I chose to walk out into the rainy night despite the fact that about 4 minutes later the Sirens were blaring. There was another time about a year and a half ago when I ended up walking almost 3 miles for a bus stop because of the way my mind was working instead of just catching the bus at the stop nearest the place where I had been. One of my other friends noticed my pacing the other day when I was hanging out with her and she had to explain to her friend standing nearby that I was on the autistic spectrum and that pacing was my way of reacting to anxiety.
My fear of loud noises has been an ongoing thing in my life and it is because of this that I have had so many problems being in places where there are balloons (because of the loud bang that they make) or bells (I used to have a terrible problem with this when I was in elementary school to the point where I would run around with my ears plugged. As wierd as I might have appeared to the other kids on the playground I was more concerned with how the noise was going to make me jump in the air or cause unpleasantness to my hearing. The first time that I went to Fountain Street Church and sat waiting for the pipe organ to start I had a little anxiety because I had no idea as to how loud the pipes were going to be. Once again this all has to do with the way my brain is wired.
I have a problem reacting to other people's anger. About 2 months ago I was helping a friend with the rehabilitation of a dog and she and I saw that he was bleeding . My friend was angry and I picked up on it to the point where I just blew up on her, cuss words that I normally don't speak also came out of my mouth. After hearing her frustration with me I apologized and explained that I couldn't deal with negativity in that fashion. A similar blowup happened about 4 years ago when a relative and I were on our way to hear a carillon. I had been depressed the whole time I was down there and finally it lead to me shouting that I just wanted to go home and wanting to head to the airport and get my ticket lined up. The day before I had been to see a movie with my relatives and I was feeling so bad I warned them that I wanted to go home.
Many times I find myself on a set routine and if I step out of t hat routine it can be terrifying for me. This is part of what was happening with the situation in the above paragraph. I had been away from home and out of my routine and finally the pressure inside of me built up to the point where I "cracked" in a release of angry proportions. On top of that I had been forced to adjust to the routines of two other people and wasn't able to do some of the things that were part of my daily life. Another example of this is to be found when I was working for my old company and I was moved from the warehouse that I was so used to into a warehouse that was completely different and on top of that I was introduced to a supervisor who insisted on teaching me to do packaging his way. Being squeezed into activities that were new to me was something that most normal people can probably cope with but that I have to adjust to over a long period.
At times I tend to perseverate on certain topics to the point where people will be only half interested, not interested in all, or completely put off. For instances, I will sometimes go on and on about organs or clocks to the point where people have no interest in having conversation with me because they don't understand exactly why it is that I am talking about these things. I will also spend hours sometimes watching videos of large bells on clocks bonging or listening to organ music on Youtube when part of me knows that I could probably be taking that time and spending it doing other more Productive things with my life. Aspergers people like me tend to get going on inappropriate topics at the wrong times as well. For instance, about 3 years ago in Las Vegas my family and I were having lunch at a buffet when I started talking politics with some people that I barely knew. It was later that my relative pointed out to me that my topic wasn't necessarily the right one for the situation and that I may have in fact put them off.
Dealing with autism is an uphill battle in my life but at the same time I have learned so much from my disorder. I have learned that noone in this world is perfect and that we need to steer away from being judgemental people and learn to respect one another. I have actually become a stronger person because of the fact that I am weak, as odd as that may sound. I am hoping that I will be able one day to achieve my dream of meeting a woman and starting a family as well as some of my career and religious goals despite the fact that my disability is a barrier sometimes. I am determined not to let autism be a hindrance but instead I look at the positive side of things. It is because of my autism that I have been blessed with this wonderful writing talent, with the intelligence that I have, a love for music, and with a better sensitivity of the needs of other people, and I am VERY thankful. To me, the positives outweigh the negatives. We all need to be able to put aside the negatives in our lives and focus on the positives.
Friday, September 2, 2011
My Testimony
My Testimony….how God turned my life around for the better
Ladies and Gents,
the man you know today is quite different from the old one that used to exist,
the one that I sluffed off about 5 years ago when I became Born Again. I was basically a nobody until I truly got
to know God,a person that on the outside might have appeared like I was doing
alright but on the inside I was seething with animosity towards people because
of the way that they had been treating me.
I felt like I was being treated like a little baby and there had been
several times when I had exploded, just gone off on my dad and stepmother and
my mother even. The Devil had a grip on
me and I was headed downhill.
It was because
of my inner animosity that I was having so many problems with nightmares,
nightmares where I would wake up screaming invectives at my Dad, at my Mother,
or even at Rob, one of my coworkers.
Doctors might attribute this to Tourettes Syndrome or OCD but the truth
is it was those evil spirits, those demons inside of me that were causing these
bad dreams. At the same time I was
terribly jealous towards people, jealous even towards family members. At the
time I was attending First United Methodist Church and I was in the choir. I constantly would have my head down and it
got to the point where my parents were noticing it.
At work I was
easily upset, especially with the authority figures around me. It would get to the point where I would get
tired of being yelled at because of the fact that I wasn’t paying attention or
because of the fact that something I had said was taken the wrong way. There were several times that I blew up at
work as well, where I completely lost control, including one time so bad I don’t
even want to talk about it.
I would pray on
a consistent basis, especially in the morning for strength, but something was
missing, because when I would pray I would darkness and emptiness on the inside
of me. There was one time when I was
down in Florida where I spent a whole evening out on the beach under the stars
talking to God. I knew he was there but
at the same time I didn’t feel him on the inside. I had been baptized as commanded but yet
something was missing.
I was listening
to bands like Pantera and Slayer. If you’ve
ever heard Pantera before, you know that it’s a heavy metal band that has
pretty vulgar lyrics to it. On top of
that I was very pro-war, I had backed Bush in Iraq and I had backed his
decision to go into Afghanistan. I was
not below making Arab and Chinese Jokes, in fact I used to tease my boss about
searching for work in foreign countries every time I saw a Chinese
newspaper.
Then I lost
my job at SAE, I was laid off right before the company closed, and I suddenly
had tons of time on my hands and I didn’t know what direction to go in. I ended up going on the unemployment system
but fear gripped me because I didn’t know for sure if I was going to be able to
keep my condo or if I was going to have to go back and live at home again. I was so worried that this was the end, that
my life was in a crap heap, that all my dreams were going to get flushed down
the toilet.
After being
introverted and unemployed for a few months, it all came crashing down. I
started having panic attacks, started to wonder if God even existed at all, was
afraid of going into Hell for all eternity.
I was trying all sorts of things to keep my positive and upbeat, including
a vitamin with all kinds of extras that I shouldn’t have been taking in the
first place. My trust in God had started
to vanish.
Recently I read a passage out of a book by William
Craig, a prominent apologist, where he was a college student who was empty and
dark on the inside and he asked a student who sat in front of him why she was
so full of joy. The student said she was
saved and then said that just going to church wasn’t enough, that you had to
have a personal relationship with God by accepting his son Jesus into your life
and your heart. About 2 years ago I was
surfing around online and I saw the Sinner’s Prayer and invited Jesus Christ to
become my Savior and have a relationship with me. It was after I said this prayer that I felt
the energy of the Holy Spirit enter my heart and my journey towards the light
began.
Today I am a
changed person. I have pretty much
dumped Pantera and Slayer and these days you’re not going to hear me making a
lot of slang jokes. My temper is
nowhere as bad as it used to be. I have
recently become a deacon at my church and these days I am a LOT more thankful
for the small blessings that God brings into my life every day. I know to keep my chin up and not to get
depressed because depression will bring back that old me that had his head down
in church. I am thankful that Jesus died
on the cross for my sins and that he rose from the dead and defeated sin. I can feel the energy of the Holy Ghost
working in my life and I know when God is please with something that I do and
when he is displeased. I am constantly
repenting of my sins, for I know that this is the way that God cleans us out of
all of our garbage and filth.
I’m sure that a
lot of people who go to my Anxiety Group have notice my transformation as of
late, noticed how my faith keeps me strong and helps me to avoid falling into
panic states and depression. I know that
God is going to keep me happy and upbeat and that he is going to do what is in
my best interest every day of my life.
He has pretty much driven out the demons that cause those nightmares and
as of recently I’ve been having nothing but the best of dreams. I know that eventually he is going to answer
my biggest prayer that I have wanted all my life and that a wonderful woman is
going to step into my life and share it with me, for this is what God is all
about, loving other people and holding them close to you.
Below I have listed the Sinners Prayer, the very prayer that
turned my life around and that I hope will turn the lives of some people on
here around as well if they are not yet Christians. We are all sinners, and the wage of sin is
death and Jesus came to rescue us by paying that price on the cross for our
transgressions.
“Father I know that I have broken your laws and that my sins
have separated me from you. I am truly
sorry, and I want to turn away from my past sinful life toward you. Please forgive me, and help me to avoid
sinning again. I believe that your son,
Jesus Christ died for my sins, was resurrected from the dead, is alive, and
hears my prayer. I invite Jesus to
become Lord of my life, to rule and reign in my heart from this day
forward. Please send your Holy Spirit to
help me obey you, and to do your will for the rest of my life. In Jesus name I pray, Amen.”
Ladies and Gents,
the man you know today is quite different from the old one that used to exist,
the one that I sluffed off about 5 years ago when I became Born Again. I was basically a nobody until I truly got
to know God,a person that on the outside might have appeared like I was doing
alright but on the inside I was seething with animosity towards people because
of the way that they had been treating me.
I felt like I was being treated like a little baby and there had been
several times when I had exploded, just gone off on my dad and stepmother and
my mother even. The Devil had a grip on
me and I was headed downhill.
It was because
of my inner animosity that I was having so many problems with nightmares,
nightmares where I would wake up screaming invectives at my Dad, at my Mother,
or even at Rob, one of my coworkers.
Doctors might attribute this to Tourettes Syndrome or OCD but the truth
is it was those evil spirits, those demons inside of me that were causing these
bad dreams. At the same time I was
terribly jealous towards people, jealous even towards family members. At the
time I was attending First United Methodist Church and I was in the choir. I constantly would have my head down and it
got to the point where my parents were noticing it.
At work I was
easily upset, especially with the authority figures around me. It would get to the point where I would get
tired of being yelled at because of the fact that I wasn’t paying attention or
because of the fact that something I had said was taken the wrong way. There were several times that I blew up at
work as well, where I completely lost control, including one time so bad I don’t
even want to talk about it.
I would pray on
a consistent basis, especially in the morning for strength, but something was
missing, because when I would pray I would darkness and emptiness on the inside
of me. There was one time when I was
down in Florida where I spent a whole evening out on the beach under the stars
talking to God. I knew he was there but
at the same time I didn’t feel him on the inside. I had been baptized as commanded but yet
something was missing.
I was listening
to bands like Pantera and Slayer. If you’ve
ever heard Pantera before, you know that it’s a heavy metal band that has
pretty vulgar lyrics to it. On top of
that I was very pro-war, I had backed Bush in Iraq and I had backed his
decision to go into Afghanistan. I was
not below making Arab and Chinese Jokes, in fact I used to tease my boss about
searching for work in foreign countries every time I saw a Chinese
newspaper.
Then I lost
my job at SAE, I was laid off right before the company closed, and I suddenly
had tons of time on my hands and I didn’t know what direction to go in. I ended up going on the unemployment system
but fear gripped me because I didn’t know for sure if I was going to be able to
keep my condo or if I was going to have to go back and live at home again. I was so worried that this was the end, that
my life was in a crap heap, that all my dreams were going to get flushed down
the toilet.
After being
introverted and unemployed for a few months, it all came crashing down. I
started having panic attacks, started to wonder if God even existed at all, was
afraid of going into Hell for all eternity.
I was trying all sorts of things to keep my positive and upbeat, including
a vitamin with all kinds of extras that I shouldn’t have been taking in the
first place. My trust in God had started
to vanish.
Recently I read a passage out of a book by William
Craig, a prominent apologist, where he was a college student who was empty and
dark on the inside and he asked a student who sat in front of him why she was
so full of joy. The student said she was
saved and then said that just going to church wasn’t enough, that you had to
have a personal relationship with God by accepting his son Jesus into your life
and your heart. About 2 years ago I was
surfing around online and I saw the Sinner’s Prayer and invited Jesus Christ to
become my Savior and have a relationship with me. It was after I said this prayer that I felt
the energy of the Holy Spirit enter my heart and my journey towards the light
began.
Today I am a
changed person. I have pretty much
dumped Pantera and Slayer and these days you’re not going to hear me making a
lot of slang jokes. My temper is
nowhere as bad as it used to be. I have
recently become a deacon at my church and these days I am a LOT more thankful
for the small blessings that God brings into my life every day. I know to keep my chin up and not to get
depressed because depression will bring back that old me that had his head down
in church. I am thankful that Jesus died
on the cross for my sins and that he rose from the dead and defeated sin. I can feel the energy of the Holy Ghost
working in my life and I know when God is please with something that I do and
when he is displeased. I am constantly
repenting of my sins, for I know that this is the way that God cleans us out of
all of our garbage and filth.
I’m sure that a
lot of people who go to my Anxiety Group have notice my transformation as of
late, noticed how my faith keeps me strong and helps me to avoid falling into
panic states and depression. I know that
God is going to keep me happy and upbeat and that he is going to do what is in
my best interest every day of my life.
He has pretty much driven out the demons that cause those nightmares and
as of recently I’ve been having nothing but the best of dreams. I know that eventually he is going to answer
my biggest prayer that I have wanted all my life and that a wonderful woman is
going to step into my life and share it with me, for this is what God is all
about, loving other people and holding them close to you.
Below I have listed the Sinners Prayer, the very prayer that
turned my life around and that I hope will turn the lives of some people on
here around as well if they are not yet Christians. We are all sinners, and the wage of sin is
death and Jesus came to rescue us by paying that price on the cross for our
transgressions.
“Father I know that I have broken your laws and that my sins
have separated me from you. I am truly
sorry, and I want to turn away from my past sinful life toward you. Please forgive me, and help me to avoid
sinning again. I believe that your son,
Jesus Christ died for my sins, was resurrected from the dead, is alive, and
hears my prayer. I invite Jesus to
become Lord of my life, to rule and reign in my heart from this day
forward. Please send your Holy Spirit to
help me obey you, and to do your will for the rest of my life. In Jesus name I pray, Amen.”
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