This week was partly bad and partly good. Tuesday was awful and I had lot’s of fear and panic in the evening. But somehow through the middle of it I found faith in God and the terror left me and I got stronger. I asked some online friends who prayers and that must have helped me too.
I am more inclined now not to believe in demons anymore and that instead Jesus was in unconventional ways healing people with mental illness. I think he brought the focus away from their assumed and alleged sin into blaming a bad spirit for the ailments the people had.
I am trying to coexist better with other people, trying to love them and help them and be a part of a peaceful life here in the group home. It’s not bad usually and sometimes it’s been outright good here.
I drink a lot of decaffeinated coffee. I am not so sleepy anymore though. Maybe the former caffeinated coffee made me sleepy, I know some have such paradox reactions.
Tomorrow I will go to my mother again for a short holiday. Very much looking forward to it.
Today I had cooking duty. I made asia noodles with vegetables and turkey meat pieces. The others loved it and ate it all up. I’d have preferred spaghetti, but I wanted to do a favor to the others. I’m really glad they liked it. I enjoy cooking for other people.
The weather is usually sunny but nevertheless a bit cold. You would think it is already autumn. The leaves are all green still but there’s the cold air, the wind, the kind of sunlight…
I am still troubled by the demons or by my schizophrenia, however you see it. I think it’s mostly a demon although I do not like to acknowledge him. He’s disturbing, and has no shred of kindness in him. I wish God would give him a beating or something. But God is only love and makes it all an Ijob situation. It’s bad with it all sometimes and I can rarely really relax from it all.
Today I have no real duties in the group home, except for writing the shopping list for tomorrow’s groceries run to the local supermarket. I enjoy days like this a lot, just waking up knowing I have nothing to do elates me. I can normally also enjoy days of work, but my psychosis makes this difficult in this time. But sometimes I do get into the mood for working too, like it was with the snow shoveling.
I drink a lot of coffee lately. I don’t think this is so good to me so I want to switch to tea. I don’t quite enjoy drinking water. Maybe it’s because I smoke a lot.
Theologically I want to go on a break. I need more life than bible theology which can be rather dry or, conversely, scary at times. I don’t get much faith and trust in God just from reading the bible. I need to go to church for that. A good service with a good sermon can do wonders for me, and the bible is often more like a fighter who comes quarreling with you, rather than a healer or a genuine priest.
My mother has the habit of simply not spending time with things that depress or scare her. I always dig into these things with a no-matter-what attitude of being able to conquer everything. Maybe I carry aggressions into my bible reading, or maybe I am too proud sometimes. But I don’t know if being unable to bear with the biblical aggressions is a fault of my own aggressions or of my pride. The bible is simply written such that it destroys the faith it builds in other parts of itself. They call it God’s universal word but I find it too disjointed and too ravageous and too complicated to fit that role. It’s not like a big unified love letter either. Who can read the mosaic books looking for the God of love and finding Him there? That’s the stuff I mean.
The bible has in itself some really wonderful words. It speaks of lands of milk and honey, and of a God who gives honest and pure happiness. And then it ruins all that and speaks of lands of ashes and hunger, and of a God who takes the life of children. And many christians are dishonest about these things. The only solution can be, the story was different, God wanted something else than what the bible authors wrote. The Israelites, once more, didn’t get things right. But if they didn’t, how could we? We know this one new matter, that God is love, but then we rather live in the old things.
I want to restart this blog. I think it was my best one so far.
I do not live in Eppendorf with my mother anymore. I live in a group home in the mountain now. I have my computer there and internet as a gift from my mother. I still have problems with my mental health and with what might be a demon. But I am not sure about that.
The group home is big and there are about 30 inhabitants plus around 10 caretakers. We live together peacefully but we do have trouble with each other sometimes. Dietmar for example is rather sick and often has outbursts of anger and frustration. Lukas begs cigarettes from everyone. But there are also some cool people that are not too sick. If they were not there this would not be a good place to live.
On Tuesdays and Fridays I have kitchen service, and inbetween I have some cleaning duties. Otherwise I have plenty of free time.
Usually it’s okay to be here. Every three weeks I have holiday with my mother, otherwise I am always here. I don’t have much money, that is probably the biggest drawback.
Mike’s burdens are heavy. I have a blog named, email@example.com.
Penny’s load is easy. I have blogs like heavenfantasies.blogspot.com.
My favourite poem is this.
Love is such a lonely sword, by Blue System. It’s an agony with Dieter Bohlen and Perry Rhodan.
Don’t worry be happy, Leonard Cohen. I hope he gets old. We are strange but benevolent.
I believe that it is one major function of Jesus to fulfill things and bring them into order for us, not to let us stick with bad or insufficient old things that cannot sustain us. For example, when Jesus said about himself that he was going to fulfill the law of Moses, and instead of throwing it down, this does not mean that Jesus told us to keep the law of Moses in the old literal understanding of it. EG, the law about the proscription of homosexual sex and the death penalty against it now do not mean anymore what it literally tells us. Instead it means that Jesus is the man and we are the woman, and we should not presume that we are men too. We must instead fulfill our female meaning in life, to give birth to babies and to nurture them. And Jesus is our husband and we should not leave him for other “men”, who in the end are not real men who love us like Jesus does. The old literal law is merely dust. The 10 commandments are a jewel in it because these commandments never mean a burden to anyone. What is problematic about God ordaining a holiday, about saying don’t murder and don’t steal, etc? Every human can easily agree to such commandments. But many of the other things in the Law of Moses are impure compared to this. You cannot simply stone a human for a crime when we are sinners ourselves … Do not murder, it says. You cannot forbid people who love each other to sleep together and stone them if they do, if married people have sex too and do not get stoned for it. Do not murder, it says. But what you can say is, please have a good love for each other, be romantic and tender and kind. And wait with the bed things until you know that you love each other very much, because you don’t want rape or the heartaches of pain and suffering because you realize there is no love in your relationship. You can talk from life and wisdom, but not from the mosaic code in such matters. The mosaic code is a wrath, not a love. And Jesus is the snake that was lifted up to heal us, Moses snake counts for nothing.
Today was a rather busy day. I went shopping with Benjamin, because Sabine is sick with an infection and couldn’t do it. I’m always happy when the shopping trips are done and over, somehow they really stress me out.
I don’t know why so often I am afraid of doing what can be considered work and duty. Most of the time I do the work, and try to do it right, but usually I have anxiety about it. I either feel overwhelmed by it all, or I am busy inside of me with my religious or psychological stuff and feel unable to really concentrate on the work. It’s really not easy for me. The only work I have come to actually delight in is cooking. Somehow I almost don’t mind cooking at all. It’s a joy for me to cook, and it’s an even bigger joy for me to cook for other people. As soon as the butter is in the pan and the meat is frying, then I’m feeling happy somehow.
The thing with the work is really weird. I live in this group throughout the whole week, and I have one day in the week with some more duties, one day with a small duty and one day with a normal duty. But I always think of these days, and can hardly relax. Added together it’s maybe a workload of 6 hours per week, not more, but still I feel anxiety about it. I feel kind of ashamed about it and don’t like to tell it to other people. And I know that some of this is sinful as I am supposed to see justice in everyone doing what they are supposed to do, including their duties at home. And it’s not anything like slavework, and it’s not a hardship. But still I feel bad about it.
Maybe I’m just weird or something.