Spencer Moseley

It wouldn't be accurate to say they ignored Tim. They called Tim. They talked to Tim. But there was some force field limit. A wall that couldn't be breached, not unlike that giant bubble in Star Wars Clone Wars that kept out the invaders with their red laser bullets.  "How's work going, Tim?" They'd ask him.  "Oh it's fine," he'd say. And perhaps he'd go into more detail. Perhaps he'd mention a coworker who'd given him trouble. Or a new project that was tiring him out. But then this limit would come up whenever it drifted toward why his days were heavy. Like someone quietly turning a dial down. Not hostile. Just… less room. His lack of Christian faith seemed to sit there between them. And so any conversation that ventured into why his life was difficult was nearly off-limits. Not because his sibs would fight him on it, but because they felt his issues would be non issues if he simply returned to Christ. He had tried talking about ...

un. cer. tain. ty.  what a word. this encapsulates my whole life transition lately. i feel very much uncertain and anxious. i always have and i suppose i always will. i think on the positive side of this, i am very sensitive to others and myself. i can read people. i can see when i've taken a joke too far. i can tell when someone else has taken a joke too far. but the downside is a sickening anxious feeling in my stomach. i crave certainty. because to me certainty = safety. but safety also = boredom. so i've been trying to transition to seeing that sickening feeling as an opportunity for adventure. that sickening feeling is interesting for me. it can overwhelm my brain to where i can't process thoughts. it would be like driving and then all of a sudden a wall comes up in front of you on the highway and you crash. airbag deploys. driving halted abruptly. that's how waves of anxiety hit me. i can start to feel like taking my skin off. i pick at my nails to manage this fee...