Well, I don’t want to pretend as if everything is okay.
If you didn’t read the last post, I responded to an indivual who I saw as a father who dismissed me based on a past article out of anger.
Which I rewrote, but that’s not the point.
Tonight I spoke with a good friend, Huwerl Thornton, from the same church as the person who reacted to me earlier this week.
He heard me out, and he apologized for it happening. He understood the anger and frustration and said it was okay.
We talked for over an hour.
I have love for him and even that indivual that hurt me.
Both of them have been there for me in their own way, so I don’t want to minimize it.
I’m still angry, and I'm still frustrated.
I know what I’ve said about Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit. I know the men I listed who hurt me in the church.
This is years of hurt and perceived neglect that I have felt from my family, friends, and church over the years.
I’m going to do my best to articulate how I am feeling.
I want there to be a God.
I want to be accepted by a just and holy God.
I understand that it’s by accepting His Son's sacrifice on the cross.
But you know what? That’s really weird.
Not a day in my life have I partaken of or seen an animal sacrificed for sins to a deity yet alone a human being whom I never met.
For most of my adult life, I thought I was a piece of shit.
It’s one of the reasons why I attempted suicide when I was 30, five years ago.
Another reason why I attempted suicide is that I had a terrible porn habit that felt like I couldn’t stop, and I felt like a terrible person because I thought I was objectifying women and not being pure before a Holy God.
There was no one way but to sacrifice my life to appease Him.
Which I thought this in my heart.
I remembered the Barnaby who was kicked out of Liberty.
The Barnaby who got kicked off LinkedIn.
The Barnaby who said a lot of weird and crass things in my psychotic and manic moment.
The Barnaby who was bullied.
The Barnaby who was punished by his Dad for not listening.
And so on.
That’s the Barnaby I play in my mind. The burden Barnaby. The one that’s a burden on people. A burden on himself for not meeting the standards in the leadership program as a kid.
The Barnaby who is emotional, who cried coming back from Haiti because of the suffering of others.
Men don’t cry. Especially for people that they don’t know.
And yet in my mind I thought I was weak.
This is all I got. This medium for sharing my thoughts.
I’m 35, and hollowed. I don’t feel or experience pleasure as I used to in my life because of my medications.
Invega is a D2 receptor blocker.
I don’t produce dopamine like a normal person.
Do you know understand that? My brain chemistry is altered by the meds I take so I can live a manageable life without becoming psychotic or delusional.
To not hear the voices of despair and killing myself over and over and over again.
Let’s have a psychology session for a second. I want to share what I experience as a person living with a brain chemistry disorder.
It’s called the 5 A’s
Alogia
Avolotion
Anhedonia
Asociality
Blunted Affect
These are negative symptoms of my disorder. I have all of them at some point in my life.
That’s what I deal with, so GODFORBID I write something out of anger for a system I grew up in after dealing with those symptoms and having air to breathe after drowning and yelling out of despair and crying out for help for someone to recognize I was drowning.
To look past the temper tantrum and allow me to cry again. Which, by the way, I can’t. Even when my father died and my sister was murdered. I couldn’t cry.
So please, anyone who is reading this. I’m not trying to be hurtful or bitter.
I’m tired. I’m doing my best to manage a serious mental illness on top of making wise decisions and doing the right thing.
So yes, I have said weird things. Yes, I have said hurtful things.
But did I say what Psalm 137:9 said?
Read it and get back to me.
“Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks"
In context or out of context, that is a shitty and extreme thing to say out of vengeance.
I have never said anything like that and will never say anything like that, but that’s in the Bible, and that’s okay.
Or a concubine being cut up into twelve pieces and sent to the twelve tribes of Israel.
Judges 19.
My point is that the Bible, which everyone talks about grace and forgiveness, is the same bible that has these stories in it.
Also, Jesus called a Canaanite woman a dog; let’s not forget that.
My point is, compared to others, I’m a good person.
And I guess that’s my point of this article: I am a good person with a good heart, and I’m okay.
I know I’ve messed up, but I’m not a used tampon, and my heart is not wicked.
No, I am good. That’s it. And tired, but still good.
So I wish you well. I don’t know who reads this or if anyone cares about my stupid website or Substack.
But I like to write, and here I am writing again.
I don’t want to lose my voice.
~ Barnaby