Manifesting, projecting

I keep getting told that I’m manifesting…projecting…bringing bad things upon myself…

Tf I’m not!

You think, this is what I want? You think, these are my dreams? These and everything that is happening to me are the absolute opposite of my dreams. Everything that is happening to me right now, that seems to be happening, and seems to be only in the process of happening and continuing…it’s all only the opposite of what I would want.

It’s an unimaginable darkness…one I could have never foreseen…did not know was coming…if I could stop it I would. But, alas, I am Owen Meany…and you cannot stop fate.

Such a silly thing to think, for a person, who was created, to be able to stop something as great and big as fate itself. We were created, along with all of our fates…and in life…we just watch things unfold, however scary. But I did not know things could get so bad. This keeps shocking me, in every way imaginable.

It is the greatest sorrow, and it cannot be placed upon anyone else but me. And with that, no one can possibly understand, or relate (unless they were placed in the same exact situation, maybe they could then). You can’t walk two moons in my moccasins, because the possibility of something like that has been far surpassed long ago, as sad as that may sound.

It makes me mad when people say this, because it couldn’t be farther from the truth. This, is not what I want. I don’t want to accept it. But must I? If you love me, or even if you don’t want me to go crazy and be able to physically live and breathe…I must go on. I must live, and breathe. I must accept, to not go crazy and live. It is that bad, it is that serious.

It is the most utter defense against the worst. I must create a wall. And denial, is barely a wall that will work anymore. Denial is a strong feeling, a strong defense, and a strong wall. But my fears coming true…that is stronger now. Perhaps the two were in equilibrium long ago…but not anymore.

How do I feel better…? Truly, I don’t know.

I can tell you I don’t want to feel this way. All right, we can establish that. But how to get better? That is the question, no idea. Can it get better, or can it only get worse?

I wish I had the capacity to still dream, to still hope, that things would be okay. But that just seems like a fool’s game.

In my novel, I just read something about a person who was awfully mistreated in childhood…beaten for starving and trying to steal the pig’s food…but even that was not allowed for him. Logically, this person was very troubled. He grew up, and eventually committed murder of those who did this to me, who treated him so inhumanely. He ended up in jail. And in jail, for some reason, he was taught all about God, religion, & repentance. He repented for his sins, and from that day forward, was more than happy to 1) repent 2) accept his suffering & fate (again with acceptance, suffering, & fate) 3) was happy to DIE actually, for all these. “Finally, I have found God, I can die for God, be with God, I got the happy ending…I can die for God, there is nothing more I wish for than this…I am so happy…” was basically the ending/moral of the story. Isn’t that insane? A person who has gone through this, and happy to die at the end of it after discovering God. I have always believed in God…should I be happy too, no matter how tragic? How can things possibly be that bad, right? That can’t be as bad as this person stealing from a pig? Or can they? Aren’t they? Because isn’t it so much more painful, having a purpose, having a dream, and it getting taken away (who can be more passionate than me?), than, a purposeless life…and then purpose appearing…his death was not taken away from him…and he was happy to finally “have a purpose.”

If you start with pigs, you can’t possibly go further down, only up, right? Yet somehow I feel farther than pigs. And probably because I did not start with them. I almost wish it was that easy. A better fate. A worser fate, I cannot imagine.

All I can feel and think now is that I will try my best, as always, or die trying.