After seeing 5 different doctors, and 7 more vials of blood taken three days ago with 15 different autoimmune tests being run...I hope to be closer to answers to my bullfrog syndrome. The viruses were bad enough, but now with this, I've not had energy to focus on much but sleep.
In my waking hours, I think a lot. I watch a lot of television, listen to a lot of music. In my findings of late...all I can say is I'm so disenchanted with so much.
The word...dis·en·chant·ed
ˌdisinˈCHan(t)əd/
adjective
- disappointed by someone or something previously respected or admired; disillusioned.
Yep...that is what I am...disenchanted. I'm disenchanted by ALL of our political people who feel competent to run for the highest office in our country...yet act like spoiled children.
I'm disenchanted by people who feel it is easier to be angry and physically harm another person, even our youth. It's nothing for a 15 yr. old to point a gun, pull the trigger, and kill another 15 yr. old. The saddest of all is the child feels no remorse!
I'm disenchanted by our media...whether it be television or social...reporting half truths, hooking gullible citizens with headlines that are so exaggerated and so preposterous that that is where we stop reading and take it for gospel instead of reading the entire article or listening to the entire speech.
I'm disenchanted by the almighty need to be first, to be ahead of anyone and everyone else. I see it on the road with drivers on their cell phones unaware of their surroundings pulling in front of you without notification. I see it in the grocery store aisles where someone will cut you off just to get ahead of you to the shelf, thinking they need the item more than you do. I see it in the way we conduct ourselves with one another.
I'm disenchanted with the literary world...with authors who bully others for not being as good as them, or writing a genre that doesn't strike them as being worthy of being read.
I'm disenchanted with myself...for believing I'm not enough...whether it be as a writer or as a person because I don't write a certain way, or I don't look like a model, or because I'm 60 years old, or because I can't do what I once did.
The most difficult thing in the world is to accept who you are and embrace yourself for your uniqueness...physical disability aside, personal preferences aside. We are all special, all unique, all enough. This is something we all need to hear in the midst of the anxiety of life in this world...YOU, my precious readers, family, and friends. YOU are more than enough. You are priceless and I value you more than you'll ever know.
Today as I reflect on the anniversary of Good Friday, my heart is filled with sadness that God allowed one man to go through such agony on this day so long ago. Yet, I'm also filled with the hope of tomorrow because that man, Jesus Christ, did it willingly for his family, his friends, and those who came after him to say...my child, you are more than enough.