LETTERS FROM CHARITY

Part 7

Dear Beth,

I must apologize for taking so long to respond to your last email.  You were so kind in answering me and I — well, I have no excuse except that I’ve been struggling to find the energy to do much of anything, lately.  Actually sitting down and typing out my thoughts seemed like too much of a gargantuan task, so I’ve been avoiding it.  Not avoiding you, just avoiding thinking, I suppose.  Thinking is a little too painful right now.

Even more things came to light about my firing after I wrote you last.  I got an email from my boss and it really slammed me against the wall.  I honestly felt like someone had punched me in the gut and I couldn’t breathe for several minutes after I read what he wrote.  He told me that he found me difficult to deal with, that I was way too opinionated, and that I bordered on being obnoxious.  He claimed that whenever he tried to talk to me about my behavior, I became overly sensitive and belligerent and ultimately, he had no choice but to let me go.

The funny thing is that I had just come to terms with being fired and while I was hurt and upset that my boss seemed to take the word of someone who didn’t even know me, I was at least comforted by the fact that I knew her accusations weren’t true.  I could find a way to move on from that.  Now this.  He said he thought I deserved to know the truth.  Well, I was much happier with my ignorance, thank you very much.

Beth, I have to tell you that in all truth, I have absolutely no idea where all that came from and I am at a loss to know how to (or if I should) respond.  I’ve gone over and over it in my head and while I know I’m in no way perfect, his words bewildered and deeply wounded me.  People have told me that I’m bossy all my life and yes, I admit that I have a classic Type A personality.  But to be called obnoxious and belligerent — I don’t know, maybe I’ve just blinded myself to what I’m really like and how I come across to others.  Maybe my mother was right.  Maybe I really am worse than I think I am.

When I was a freshman in high school, I started going to youth group at my church and I was so incredibly excited to be able to be with people my own age without my sister.  I knew it wasn’t going to last more than a year, but I was going to enjoy that year to the fullest!  Our youth pastor was a young, charismatic guy who really seemed to understand what it was like being an angsty, emotional teenager.  One Sunday night after our youth group meeting, I found myself spilling my guts to him because I just couldn’t hold it in any longer.  People at our church thought my parents walked on water but they had no idea that it felt more like living with the devil and his wife.

Two days after that conversation with my youth pastor, my father called me into his study after he got home from work.  That was never a good sign in our house.  He let me know that the youth pastor had called him and let him know that I had told him some things about him and my mother that had disturbed him, and he thought my father ought to know.  I don’t remember a whole lot after that except that my mother came into the study at my father’s request and she just stared at me for what seemed like decades before finally saying, “You obviously have an unrealistic view of yourself and of life in general.”  If contempt had been a knife in her hand, I would have been unrecognizable as a human being.

I feel like I’ve always been the first to point out my shortcomings and faults, always trying to get the jump on anyone else doing it for me.  I figured that came from having the point pounded into my head that a good Christian is always looking for what’s wrong with them so they can confess it.  But as I look back on it now, maybe my hyper-vigilance started that day in my father’s study.

Do you ever wonder if God is punishing you for all the things you’ve done wrong in your life?  I’ve been told over and over (and over and over and over) that God loves me and has a plan for my life, but what does that even mean?  I look at the circumstances of my life and I honestly can’t help but think that He has it out for me.  On good days I recognize that I don’t deserve anything but His divine wrath, but most of the time, I look at people like my parents and how they never suffered a single day in their lives until they got sick, and I think that He is profoundly unjust.  Then I kick myself for being such a petty idiot and thinking such awful things.

So I know I said at the beginning of this email that I haven’t had much energy to put thoughts to paper, but I did take your advice and I started writing a poem about a week ago.  I happened to look at the calendar and realized it was twenty years to the day since my father died.  I’m not sure how much of this is about him and how much is about what just happened in my life, but I guess it doesn’t really matter in the long run, does it?  It took several days, but I finally finished it.

liquid eyes

trembling lip

wet pillow

grasping hands

lead feet

raw throat

strangled heart

scorched spirit

screaming mind

prayers not answered

heart turned away

embittered

resentful

desolate

why his and not mine?

was he a better person?

did God love him and not me?

he — hypocrite

selfish

egocentric

damaged

me — hurting

angry

bitter

longing

no light,

no hope,

no mercy

only darkness,

confusion,

despair

so i will live in defiance

i will deny YOU

i will deny YOUR existence

and i will work to obliterate YOUR NAME from my heart

There have been so, so many times in my life when I thought that if I just served a little more, worked a little harder at being more faithful in reading my Bible, prayed a little more, maybe God would finally notice me and release me from this existence that I laughingly call a life.  But that isn’t happening.  I’m not sure it ever will happen.  And I don’t think I can hang on any longer.  If He is listening, then I guess He knows this is probably it for me and Him.  I can’t keep praying for a rescue that doesn’t even seem possible, anymore.  We’re all alone in the dark.  Nobody comes.

I don’t know if you’ll want to keep corresponding with me after this.  I’m really not trying to be obnoxious or belligerent (no matter what my former boss may think), but I will completely understand if you’ve had enough of me and my emotional and spiritual turmoil.  If I never hear from you again, please know that I will always be grateful for the time you spent on me.  And I will always think fondly of you and hope that you continue to shine your light in this sick world.

Most Sincerely,

Charity