Sitting in Panera, whiling away. Looking at old pictures, this one worth an artsy treatment. A few people here from past, but still present, experiences at church. I prayed deeply last Sunday. Went to Mass. Sought forgiveness and peace. The homily concerned itself with sloth. Yes, that's it... my most insidious sin. Can't remember exactly, but the priest described it as essentially spiritual despair. Yes, that's it. Despair at the condition of my life to the point of oblivion; carelessness. Seemingly beyond doing anything about it.
These people will not engage me. They will not walk over with any solicitation as to how I am. "I'm dying." If ever I offended you I'm sorry. They know I'm schizophrenic, yet still they stand off. Despair.
It's a long time since making any post here. Nowhere else to go.
Talk about old stuff, made a friend request of my ex-wife on Facebook. She's had no activity for years but presume, if the account is still active, she'll get a notification. No response. Despair is the norm. How I grieved in that experience. No progress, I admit.
These people will not engage me. They will not walk over with any solicitation as to how I am. "I'm dying." If ever I offended you I'm sorry. They know I'm schizophrenic, yet still they stand off. Despair.
It's a long time since making any post here. Nowhere else to go.
Talk about old stuff, made a friend request of my ex-wife on Facebook. She's had no activity for years but presume, if the account is still active, she'll get a notification. No response. Despair is the norm. How I grieved in that experience. No progress, I admit.
