I feel better these days. I haven’t had to play music to get out of bed in a long time. I’m missing less classes. My mind doesn’t feel foggy. I think that this is how normal feels. It’s comforting to have some sort of certainty about myself. When I skip classes now, it’s because I don’t want to go. I don’t know if that will ever change. It used to be that I attended my classes as a matter of principle. It also used to be that I barely paid attention. I’d like to think that things really are getting better.
In the meanwhile, I’m trying to figure out more puzzling things. I read books and watch TV shows and the pervasiveness of Homosexuality worries me. One way to convince people of something is to make it seem normal. Present it as a matter of course, with no defense or condemnation, so that it becomes a constant presence in their mind and they stop to see something wrong with it. Even knowing that doesn’t keep you from falling for it. But why? Why should the world be so twisted? I have often likened it to being told that it is perfectly fine for people to eat with their feet and walk with their hands. It rankles me, having that presented as fine when it’s so obviously not. Why doesn’t the world make sense? I need a mantra, I think, to bring myself back in times like this.
God exists. I know that because the universe was made by someone. I know it because he answers my prayers. Whenever I doubt that, I’ll do the logic and keep the records to remind myself. I know that I have sinned against God and I can only rely on his mercy. I know there was a man named Jesus, whose words are trustworthy and that he promises mercy to those who receive him. I hope in him to the exclusion of all else because I can’t find mercy anywhere. This God is my father, my friend and my king. So I can trust him with myself. I’m safe with him.
And I know one other thing: the whole world is definitely mad.