Dorienne's Log

There is someone I work that I simply cannot stand. It is bordering on hatred. This person has angered me so much in just two short weeks that I just don’t know how I’m going to make it this entire summer. And, what’s worst of all is there is no recourse. There’s no one to whom I can turn and say, “You know what? This person is a complete jerk!” I sat this morning, wondering how am I going to make it having to deal with this person everyday? Finally, I realized I needed a mantra to sing either to myself or out loud to calm me down. The first thing that came to mind was a little diddy I used to hear in cartoons all the time, sung by Southern characters, but that didn’t sit right with me. It was kind of like a slower version of that “Ole, Ole” song. Anyway, it didn’t fit. Then, it occurred to me. The song that’s song as we accept our choir! Ureka! It’s positive, it’s uplifting and I can just sing it when people just plain make me mad. Now, to see if tomorrow’s shift goes better with this song in mind…

Today, I spoke with someone with whom I had not conversed in what seemed like ages. It was amazing to me….She seemed so very much the same and I felt like I had “aged” some ten years since the last time we had seen one another. The same things that anger the both of us were still there, but I felt the very strong need to remain positive and behave as a model Christian. However, I felt torn….We would shoot the breeze all the time about this or that, but always in negative terms, however, now I don’t want that negativity dragging me down anymore. For the first time since I joined my church, I felt truly changed. It felt very wrong for swears to come out of my mouth like I tried to today, and I don’t think I’ll be going down that road again. The whole situation seemed….just out of place….odd. There she stood, someone who I consider to be one of best…..my best friend, and at one point we were so very similar and today we seemed miles apart from one another.

I told her that I had joined the church, because I wasn’t sure if I’d told her earlier and she seemed VERY surprised, as I expected. We would go on about how stupid religion was for HOURS, but now I cannot see myself doing that anymore.

Today, I felt different. Today, I actually felt the change Jesus has made in me.

The next step is asking her to come to church with me. I’ll have to be crafty about it, but sometime in the not too distant future, I’ll ask her.

While I sat pondering over a problem that has been plaguing me for some time, I got to thinking that if this works out for the better, Jesus would have taken care of me. I then thought that if it did not work out, then this was all part of His plan too. Why does this come off as apathy to me?

Maybe I’m just so accustomed to stressing over situations because I had nowhere to turn, but now that I do, I’m just not used to it….? Maybe….?

I’m really tired right now, so it’s too hard to continue thinking about this…for now anyway.

I was telling one of my roommates about this past Sunday’s church service and I began to feel strained. I was yearning to ask her to come to a service, since the words of pastor about when was the last time any of our congregation asked a ‘white brother or sister’ to our service were still fresh in my head, but I did not. I already knew the answer, but I felt strained, compelled almost to ask anyway, most likely because it was the right thing to do, but still….

There is a part of me that feels like all this is maybe happening too fast, that if I were to even suggest that she come to church with me, that it would seem fake. Why? It’s not; it shouldn’t be. I am not doing this for anyone, and yet the idea of becoming a witness feels fake. It’s times like these that I wish I knew my Bible better. Maybe then, I could find something, read something that would make me feel better.

For that matter, I would simply like to find the Bible my grandmother gave to me so many years ago. It had sat, unused and unloved for ages, and now that I truly need and want it, I cannot find it. I’ve been bringing the Precious Moments Bible given to me when I was in Sunday school when I was about seven at Mt. Olivet. It’s the New King James Version and I feel like I’m old enough to have a ‘normal’ Bible. I’ve searched my room, my car, all through my room at my mother’s house, where I discovered that I’d done something with the Women’s Bible my father had given me ages ago too.

This has just now got me thinking….what have I been doing these past few years? What was going through my mind that I might have tossed out that Women’s Bible in some random haste to remove clutter? I would never have considered tossing one of my ‘precious’ The X-Files tapes, even though I never watch them and they are probably in need of being tossed. However, when it came to a Bible given to me from my father, I was only too quick, I guess, to give it away or throw it away or whatever.

I think that if I could just find the Bible my grandmother gave me, I’d feel better. Even if I didn’t know where to go to find something helpful, at least I would have SOME source to which I could refer.

I just now remembered I post I had made a year and a half ago in another blog (http://kaitco.blogspot.com/):

Friday, October 29, 2004

Pepsi’s log…

Two weeks ago, after finishing a 12-pack of Pepsi in less than five days and realizing just how much sugar I’d consumed in that time, I decided that my addiction had taken a new hold and it was time for a change. Thus, I began the “no-Pepsi” era of my life and I’ll see if this lasts at least until December….

So, tonight while watching an ER re-run, I was suddenly overrun by the urge to drink my third Pepsi of the day. Mind you, I’ve already had a breakdown in the “no-Pepsi” era of my life, by having two today and there I was craving a third. I tried to not think about, I drank water, I had a push-up pop, and yet the craving raged on. And then I looked to the small green Bible given to me by the creepy little man handing out Bibles on campus the other day for solace in my Pepsi temptation. I don’t know what I was expecting exactly, but to no surprise, I got nothing from reading passages on temptation in the Bible. After agonizing over the thought that I will never get back those five minutes I spent reading that damn Bible, the urge subsided and I’m happy to say, I’m back on track, so to speak. But then again I do wonder…..Perhaps reading that little Bible did work. Hmm……

I think I’ve been so caught up in the meaningless dribble of pretending that all those who turned to their Bibles when in times of trouble were stupid and ignorant of how the world worked, that I let myself be devoured by my own misery. I look at the words I’d written so long ago and I can see it. He had been calling and I simply chose to ignore it. Of all the things I’ve undertaken (if that’s proper English, and I know it’s not) in my life, this feels the best of all, mostly because I know that there’s no need to find another ‘obsession’ and that this one will not let me down. It was like during Freshman year when I’d lost my cross: I had been telling myself that I was technically not a Christian, but wore my cross all the time. Why? Because deep down in my heart, I knew that I could not live without feeling that Jesus, God if you will, was not by my side. When I lost my cross, everything in my life seemed to be going down in flames. I cried all the time, simply wallowing in my own despair. Nothing seemed like it was going right. When I got a new one, the world seemed brighter, birds were singing, children laughing….everything was right again. Last year, I lost my cross again, but depression did not follow. Why? Perhaps because I was already beginning this process, this journey, and I knew that I had nothing to fear.

I have to leave now, but I reminiscing just now has got me remembering the absolute hatred I had for a girl I knew while still in the dorms. I think I’ve come to that point in my life where I am strong enough to actually admit that half the reason I could not stand the sight of her was because she was keen on Jesus and happy all the time because of it. I was jealous that I did not have that same love in my heart. Mind you, this girl said and did MANY things that prove that she did not truly ‘believe’ as much as she wanted people to think she did, but at least now I’ve come to terms with all of that…

I think I feel fake when I try to be a witness because of all the people I know who are ‘witnesses’ everyday, but really are not. They say PTL – Praise the Lord – to everyone they know, but put down people when they are high and never have respect for those who think differently than they. They attend church every Sunday, carry a Bible in their cars, but sleep around with two, three, and even four different people at one time, without a second thought. I see them and see that they are false, and I can’t help thinking that if I open my mouth, I will seem just as false. I suppose I can only try to be the best Christian that I can be and pray that Jesus help all those who proclaim they love Him and His word without really meaning it; all those who say they believe in the Word, but hate those who are not Christians, or do not look or speak like they do; all those who say they believe without ever once asking themselves if they truly believe it….

At least on Xanga, I’m not afraid to say, “I love Jesus.”

….it kind of brings a tear to my eye.

I’ve always heard some sayings along the lines of “it’s the little things that make life worth living” but I’ve never truly given it much thought until recently. Twice yesterday, I was able to rise from deep sleep to accomplish necessary errands – Church and later work. Had I set and alarm for either event? Well, yes and no: I set an alarm for the last possible moment for church, but I was awakened a good hour and a half before my alarm and I simply went through the mechanics of preparing myself for the rest of the day without even realizing that I’d “underslept.”

Why was I able to wake up long before I had wanted? My subconscience knew that I needed more time than I had allowed myself and woke me…I know it was my subconscience, but I relish in the idea, fact if you will, that Jesus woke me to do what I already knew was right. And to my benefit at that: during service, my pastor informed me, well all of us, of something that I had no previous knowledge.

Christ actually went into Hell for three days before ascending onward to Heaven. I won’t get into the specific chapters and verses and such, but simply the idea of it, the fact if you will, eased many of my issues with truly believing that Jesus was the son of God. It had long been told to me that the only way to get to Heaven was through Jesus, and of course my logical mind had asked the question, “well, what about all the people who had died before Jesus had come upon the earth? Were they simply doomed to Hell?” I learned yesterday, that all those who had come before Jesus, had indeed gone to Hell and Jesus went into Hell so that they might receive Him and thus go to Heaven.

As I sat listening and learning this new information, I couldn’t helping thinking how logical Christianity now seemed to me. God so loved the world et cetera, meant that all His souls, His creations, were being sent to Hell because they were imperfect and because they sinned just as Adam and Eve did. God sent a part of Himself, His son if you will, to the earth, so that all those who believed in Him could come “home” to Heaven. The very thought of it makes me smile in a sort of relief. It makes sense to me now….well….more than it ever has. It makes it seem less illogical that a virgin could give birth two thousand years ago. Most of all, it takes so much of the burden of being both a scientist and a Christian away from my shoulders. When all the facts are considered, not saying that I have all of the facts, but more than I’ve ever had, rationally, I cannot think that Christianity is a farce, a fable or fiction. Yesterday was the first time in a very long time that I actually felt saved and happy that I was such. I know dark times are coming for me, but I cannot feel despair. How can I when I know as long as I stay to His path, I will be all right?

I have one more trial before I know that I have been, indeed, born again into Christianity – becoming a witness. It’s hard, so very hard. So many people know me as I was, and I they still perceive me. I say that I’ve joined my church, but no one seems to look at it as anything significant. I don’t feel like I could extend my hand, asking my friends to come join each Sunday morning, because I already know how loud their laughter would be. I’ll have to come to terms with this….one thing at a time, though….

My mind is becoming fuzzy and it’s getting difficult to focus on coherent thought, it is time to stop. There’s always so much more to say though: I’ve started new poems and new stories; success at work; hope for school; my website’s leaps and bounds; things that piss me off that don’t so much anymore since I’ve re-discovered Christ; my reformed addiction to caffeine….

Things have never looked so low in my life. I honestly think that if I weren’t truly putting everything in His hands right now, I’d be downing the remaining 800 Aleves in that bottle. It feels like things just could not get worse, but what’s funny is that I know it can. Relatively speaking, many people have bounced back from far worse than this. At least I have a game plan in place; at least I know what the next step is; at least I haven’t yet given up all hope. I could have to face all those problems in addition to my own. I’m trying to keep the faith; keep this idea that if I just leave to Jesus, everything will be all right, but sometimes, it’s just so hard….

I’ve asked myself these past few days, ‘why do I keep coming to church?’ I’ve always answered with ‘it makes me feel better’ or ‘because it feels right.’ Today, I received an affirmation! I looked at my Amex bill and nearly burst into tears. I owed $600, I had $150 in my checking account. I would not get any money until the week of the 19th. Dread seeped over me. I would have to borrow money from my mother in order to cover the bill. Of all horrifying things to happen to an adult, this is of course the worst. Instead of digressing into self-pity and depression, I went to church like I’ve been doing these past few weeks. I asked my mother for a $400 loan and I had a small break-down in the church bathroom, but I was alright in the end. I felt better; though my money woes had not yet been lifted, it seemed like what my pastor has been telling me: through God, Jesus, if you will, everything WILL be all right. I came home, feeling much better and started a to-do list which included studying and, of course, cleaning my room. As I began cleaning, procrastinating with the studying, of course, I found a bill of older account statements and what looked like a check stub from an old Anheuser check. I opened the stub, not expecting to see anything, and low and behold, no pun in intended, there sat a check for $300! Combined with the money from my father’s last check, I no longer needed a loan from my mother, and quickly told her so. Though my money woes are still far from over, I cannot help but feel utterly saved through the grace of God.

There is a rational explanation for what transpired today: I simply forgot about the check until this opportune moment. But still….if I had deposited that check months ago, I would have most likely spent it already, leaving me without any recourse presently. I feel like crying because…I am truly grateful for what God has given to me. And…I’m also so happy that I can attribute this to Him, instead of simple dumb luck like I might have a month ago. I am also sad, that I cannot express this sentiment with those around because I know they would laugh and look at me as if I were clearly making a joke because of the person I used to be. My only comfort is knowing that time and Jesus will eventually resolve this issue for the best.

I joined the church today. I had been preparing myself to do it without tears during most of the sermon, but I took one look at my mother’s sobbing face and I was done. I am simply too emotional. It took Grandma’s sigh after asking me whether or not I had joined the church to make me do it. Once I started thinking about it, I realized I really did not have a reason to keep making excuses of why not to join. Every time I would attend, I would make up some kind of excuse to keep me from approaching when I truly felt this need within me to go up during the call to join. Each time I went to church and we got to that part of the service, I always felt this tension.

What was holding me back? I could get crazy by saying it was the devil, but of course I won’t given that sometimes I question “his” existence. Talking with my mother on the car ride home, I realized there is just so much that I don’t understand about religion. There’s no reason for me not to just join that which I innately believe.

There was a point when I thought that maybe I wouldn’t join, “not this week,” I said to myself, but there was this point during the service….everyone was laughing and I felt good in church, for once. I actually said to myself, “I love church.” It came out so easy and natural. It was then I knew I really had no other excuse except a sense of late teen/early twenties rebellion, and I’ve been saying I’m past all my peers and all of that in itself.

Oh well….

I actually want to go to church next week, but what gets me is superstition. My family has always had this superstition about how one begins the new year, meaning where one is during when the new year approaches, is how one will live the entire year. I rang in the new year in church and now I’ve gone and joined the church. It wasn’t intentional and it wasn’t until after I’d joined that the thought occurred to me.

All I’ve got to say is “how interesting.”

In the past seven days, I have learned more about life than I had ever thought possible. I’ve learned that there will never be real justice in this world because there will always be someone out there who believes that he or she is above the rules that govern everyone else. I’ve learned that the vast majority of everyone I will ever meet will prove to be weak and will falter if someone like me is not there to stand strong and willing. Most of all, I have learned that no one in this world can be trusted. Everyone changes, often times for the worst, and those in whom you have put trust and faith will ultimately let you down in the end. It is a harsh reality with which I must come to terms and I cannot say that I am pleased with the life lessons brought to me in the past seven days. Actions were performed, actions that could have been amended, actions that though they were surely wrong, could have been mollified to make the lives of everyone involved easier, but they were not.

I want to wash my hands of the entire thing and continue on as if nothing ever happened, but I cannot. I wish that some day, my intuition will prove incorrect. It frightens me that at such a young age, I can know that I am right in everything and PROVE to be right in everything. I know that when we first met him, he was not the malformed, integrity-lacking, rouge he proved to be in past days. He was a good person, yet he allowed himself to be associated with those I have repeatedly warned were not good people. I warned against associating with those who had true evil in their hearts, yet no one listened and here we sit today.

I wish I were one to forgive and forget, but I am not. My trust, my faith in everyone I know has been shaken. Who will be the next to “betray” me, I wonder? My unhappiness and anger at this situation has combined to form utter indifference. I do not care to meet anyone new, because I know, for certain now, that he or she will prove to be false in the end. It is times like these I wonder about God, and if He is all powerful and all knowing, why was this allowed to touch my life? Why do I need to learn these lessons? What was the point of all of this? How can coming this much closer to losing faith in all of humanity going to make me a better person? I have gained nothing from this experience except malcontent and the knowledge that I may actually be right all of the time. I don’t think I am ready to take on such responsibility this early in life….

I had my teeth cleaned today and, of course, it had been months since I had been due, but I do what I can. My dental hygenist found a “weakness” in one of my back teeth and made it seem like it was no big deal. Later, the dentist and another hygenist come in, the hygenist with this long, white tube-thing saying, “Ready?” At this point, my amygdala is telling me to jump out of the chair and run out of the building, but I stay calm and ask if I had a cavity….my first EVER. My dentist informs me that it was the beginnings of a cavity and they just had to fill it with this “putty” to keep it from becoming a full cavity. Nevertheless, it was a bit of a wake up call in itself. My first (near) cavity…..oh, how the time does fly.

I suppose it having been nearly a year since I was last at the dentist’s office, a near cavity was somewhat inevitable, but as I sat in the dental chair, slightly fearing for my life as the hygienist came at me with that long sucking-tube, that perhaps a change in my lifestyle is in order. I procrastinate, like all human beings, but sometimes, most times, it is often to my detriment. It just feels so much easier to do nothing than something. Sure, I could go through all of my classwork and develop a study schedule for the upcoming week and sure I could make out my thank-you notes and even send them to my interviewers from yesterday, and truth be told, I most likely will do these today, just not know. Why? I am, like most days, very tired and just don’t fricken feel like it. I feel like playing the sims until about five when The Simpsons comes on, and around that point, I will start doing my work, that is until American Idol comes on, at which point all attention must be diverted toward my television.

I WILL do what is necessary, just not right now. My near cavity could have been nothing at all had I made my dental appointment months ago instead of just last week, but such is the way of my world and my life. Perchance I may make a change in my life and perhaps I may remain consistent with that change. I suppose only time will tell. I know this, however: should I get a job with my first choice company, I will make changes in all that I do, because (as crappy and sappy as it sounds), God must really want it for me.

Bleh. I hate admitting that God loves me….I know it’s true, but I just always feel so disgusted with myself for thinking it plausible.