Mark,
You asked me via Twitter how, exactly, one of your pics convinced me to seek help at a church. This is difficult, in a way, I hope you understand. I hope you'll keep this between us, confidential. I am @ringhorne on Twitter.
First, I could not find the pics that I saw the time I popped over to your site(s) -- one of the sites -- and was moved to deal with my serious issues. The picture that slammed me on my spiritual-emotional head and told me to wake the hell up was this: a man who had been jobless, only recently lost his home and was with his kids. Just a father, and at least two kids. Photo was taken in a homeless shelter, I believe they were all sitting on one cot together.
It is impossible right now to put it into full context, because I am very distracted and I'll never write this email if I don't get it out now. It's been long enough as it is -- three weeks? However, that image showed me -- not directly, not obviously, but upon my reflecting on it, and sublimely -- something important: the face of a homeless family, very true, candid.
That truth, that scene, made me sad. I wanted to reach out to those folks, but I cannot. It made me sad that this guy and his kids were homeless, and here I am feeling sorry for myself, for my various and sundry issues, holdups and setbacks. I have ... issues to deal with. I have been miserable. Thoroughly miserable.
But I don't want to be a part of the problem, though, but part of solutions. I am sick that I am not talking the talk or walking the walk for many things I care to do.
That picture told me that I need to get my shit together. I was struck by it, found myself sobbing. And I mean A LOT.
I saw the picture, and I was there, with him. I started weeping. I was heartbroken that that man was in that shelter with his kids. I was devastated.
And so, that picture, feeling that scene, and feeling for those folks, and imagining the many others like them, realizing just how muddled my life is and that I seem thoroughly unable to help anyone else, brought me to a very sad place. But that was turned to a feeling to act, to make way against my issues, else I am simply taking up space: I realized that I needed some real help. My compassion for those folks in effect made me realize that to be able to do anything for anyone else, I needed to do something about myself, first. I called the local Episcopal church-affiliated healing ministry,Glennon House.
I have been seeing, quite suitably, a pastor counselor for several weeks now. He identifies with my issues (some of important ones) so that's what makes this a good thing. I am still jobless, and at times I am thoroughly pissed off and disgusted, including with my self, but getting the help I need. That picture inspired me to get there. Yes, I am all those things that make this story seem otherwise absurd: a writer, a creative type, left handed (thus in my right brain), and other things.
So, thanks for the images, and the videos. I wish I could be more than I am. If I ever find a way to move past my own miseries, I hope I can help folks like that family in the picture. But now, I am in need of my own repairs.
You asked me via Twitter how, exactly, one of your pics convinced me to seek help at a church. This is difficult, in a way, I hope you understand. I hope you'll keep this between us, confidential. I am @ringhorne on Twitter.
First, I could not find the pics that I saw the time I popped over to your site(s) -- one of the sites -- and was moved to deal with my serious issues. The picture that slammed me on my spiritual-emotional head and told me to wake the hell up was this: a man who had been jobless, only recently lost his home and was with his kids. Just a father, and at least two kids. Photo was taken in a homeless shelter, I believe they were all sitting on one cot together.
It is impossible right now to put it into full context, because I am very distracted and I'll never write this email if I don't get it out now. It's been long enough as it is -- three weeks? However, that image showed me -- not directly, not obviously, but upon my reflecting on it, and sublimely -- something important: the face of a homeless family, very true, candid.
That truth, that scene, made me sad. I wanted to reach out to those folks, but I cannot. It made me sad that this guy and his kids were homeless, and here I am feeling sorry for myself, for my various and sundry issues, holdups and setbacks. I have ... issues to deal with. I have been miserable. Thoroughly miserable.
But I don't want to be a part of the problem, though, but part of solutions. I am sick that I am not talking the talk or walking the walk for many things I care to do.
That picture told me that I need to get my shit together. I was struck by it, found myself sobbing. And I mean A LOT.
I saw the picture, and I was there, with him. I started weeping. I was heartbroken that that man was in that shelter with his kids. I was devastated.
And so, that picture, feeling that scene, and feeling for those folks, and imagining the many others like them, realizing just how muddled my life is and that I seem thoroughly unable to help anyone else, brought me to a very sad place. But that was turned to a feeling to act, to make way against my issues, else I am simply taking up space: I realized that I needed some real help. My compassion for those folks in effect made me realize that to be able to do anything for anyone else, I needed to do something about myself, first. I called the local Episcopal church-affiliated healing ministry,Glennon House.
I have been seeing, quite suitably, a pastor counselor for several weeks now. He identifies with my issues (some of important ones) so that's what makes this a good thing. I am still jobless, and at times I am thoroughly pissed off and disgusted, including with my self, but getting the help I need. That picture inspired me to get there. Yes, I am all those things that make this story seem otherwise absurd: a writer, a creative type, left handed (thus in my right brain), and other things.
So, thanks for the images, and the videos. I wish I could be more than I am. If I ever find a way to move past my own miseries, I hope I can help folks like that family in the picture. But now, I am in need of my own repairs.
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