Now it's time to get personal.In order to continue telling the story of Wasted Efforts, I must now confess to you feelings I would ordinarily not publicize.
Notice I said "personal", not "private".
The private things of my life will remain private; I will not be writing about specific details here.
But I will be revealing personal issues; these aren't private since anyone who is close to me actually knows these things.
So to clarify: personal doesn't mean telling you everything; it means a shift from discussing theological and political issues to the issues of my being.
I was mostly a happy but introverted young kid.
I was not the coolest kid in the world: I was awkward, quiet, and more prone to behaving myself rather than having a good time.
Never-the-less, I never had problems making friends...as long as I kept them at a far enough distance to be "safe".
I don't like attachments; I still don't.
By the time I became a adolescent, this introspection and solitary nature lead to a feeling of isolation and unworthiness.
I still had no problem making friends in High School; it's one of the great miracles of my life that I'm as agreeable to most people as I am! I am by no means a Columbine-Case.
However, that sense of awkwardness was still there; I still had a problem being too close to people. I was like this because I never wanted to get caught up into any bad business due to peer pressure. The thought of doing something bad in the eyes of my family was unbearable.
I didn't trust people; I still don't.
Thus despite having a fairly happy High School experience outwardly; inwardly I was quite alone.
Where everyone else's lives seemed defined, quite agreeably, by their personal and social lives, I had none and my appearance of a "good guy" that most people enjoyed was something of a scam.
I felt I had no self-worth; no credit as an actual human since I have largely cut myself off from humans.
This is the recipe for depression.
Depression may actually be too extreme a word for it; I hear of worse cases.
But I was thoroughly unhappy and it got worse with each passing year, especially as I went into College, where loneliness made the difficult work of Academia unbearable and painful.
This unhappiness came from anger directed at myself. Sometimes I'd direct it at others; sometimes intentionally, sometimes by accident.
But in the end of the day I was angry towards myself more than anything else.
It was the only credit I can give myself: the honesty to blame myself for my own problems and no others.
Throughout this time, I thought much about God.
I have always had my thoughts directed towards religion ever since I was a child.
I had a religious father, went to Catholic School, and when my best friend started hanging around with a kid who showed nothing but contempt for me, God seemed like a pretty good rebound.
Of course, this adolescent angst clouded my judgment.
I became convinced that God hated me just as I hated myself.
I became convinced that God was displeased with me for being a lonely loser.
This motivated me to, slowly, learn the ways of God and start thinking more about theology.
I say "slowly" because it was not a very strong or active process; more of a general way of seeing things through a spiritual lens.
It was the tiniest of first baby steps that will lead to much more mature and stronger theological lessons.
I was your typical guilt-ridden Catholic: so tripped up on my own heartaches that I started to wear it as a badge of honor.
I was never proud of these feelings, but to embrace it in a backhanded way was the only way I could deal with it and keep moving forward.
Depression, self-hatred, angst...whatever...is addictive: it is the excuse spiritually poor people use for their current situation.
It was my excuse. For no matter how much I knew I was a loser, if I accepted being depressed, then I was more of a sufferer than a loser.
I was like this for what seemed like forever.
Thank God, I eventually changed.
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