The bloody day in October.
Dear Readers.
That bloody day filled the sky with rivers of blood the night was cold and my friend Robert Moore looked up and told his students something was afoot. What he might have, or could have said was that Blood was flowing down out of the sky in the dark night, a dark surprise of trick or treat. A bit of horror ready to take them all and bath them in Blood.
It was the northern lights but, it could just as easily been blood flowing from heaven to earth, from a cross to the pit you live in, from wounds on a head and back and hands and feet and side.
Some days with my mania the way it can be I am filled with dread just getting out of bed. You should have guessed it reading my writing by now, I am manic depressive, they have all sorts of names for it, but I know that I was always this way, but not as bad as I am now. The Now happened in 2005, when in a fit of depression and not a bit of self loathing I decided to not go to the doctor for something I figured I would either get over, or it would kill me. I thought I had fluid on the lungs, pneumonia. I did have fluid on the lungs, just not mucus of the pneumonic-demonic kind, evil laugh, the devils danced about the room and gleefully told me not to go to the doctor.
I had fluid bloody fluid on my lungs blood clots, and I knew when one of them passed through my heart, I literally had it trying to kill me for my sins, I got excited after thinking about a female I knew and I was still married and she was not my wife. Blood clot rushed about and passed through my heart and I had a heart attack or what I thought was one, I barely got into bed and sat up in pain for a while. Knowing full well I should go to the hospital and I could have, but I did not want to go, I would have at the time rather have been dead.
God works is mysterious ways. And you don't know the half of them. You might not even think he is alive and well, you might think he is only a nice guy you once put into a bundle of gold up on some stone altar in a shrine somewhere. You might not even want to think about it till after you get out of college or back from your trip to the Mars colony. Don't matter much what we think about what God is or is not. Well it does, but it don't, sort of like a paradox loop. God did not change. We did. Though you will know that I think these sorts of thoughts and you have learned to take it or leave it. The story still goes on.
I died or should have died back in 2005. I finally went to the doctor on the 29 th of Dec. way late in the afternoon, his last patient, Dr Lynn if you are reading this ( I told you I was going to be writing things remember back then, well this is as good as it gets right now, if anyone asks I give you written permission via these words to tell them about it all. ) I told them it was my lungs, laughs, it was but it was blood clots everywhere else too. Legs. Head. Arms. Lungs. Dead dead dead and dead and bloody at that. Dr. Lynn's post-it note drawing was literally seen by me as a post it note from God I do not remember much if anything of anything Dr. Lynn said after I looked at that piece of paper, I meant to save it and mount it on my wall, but I can still see it and I have been able to redraw it a time or two to show people, but it has no impact on them like it did to me.
I died, in my head I have to remind myself I died that day, but I have to die a bit every day still yet. I have to kill my self every day and let the blood pour down from the heavens like the Northern lights and fill me up with Christ. I can't be in here any more, but sadly for me it seems I can't totally wash me out of me and get all of Christ's blood in. Some one out there will point out the filled to brim with the Holy Spirit metaphor that this all reminds them of, and how they can relate to it. But we are still stuck with us in here, and we still sin daily even though we don't want to, Paul writes about that fact and how he does not want to, but can't stop.
It is a constant battle for me to balance my mania and my depression, I am good at balancing a stick on my head, just ask anyone that knows me, I have shown them it at least once, and I am always balancing something or other. So I do have the God given talent to do it. But I need a lot of help. And when I am deep in my pit of despair full of self loathing and shame and can't get back out of it on my own. I want to have it be filled with Christ's blood poured down from that cross, fill the pit up to drown me, hey I can swim, fill it full to the brim and I can swim out of the pit filled with blood and reach shore knowing that God Saved me.
May the Peace that passes all understanding be yours from Christ Jesus the Lord.
Charles.
That bloody day filled the sky with rivers of blood the night was cold and my friend Robert Moore looked up and told his students something was afoot. What he might have, or could have said was that Blood was flowing down out of the sky in the dark night, a dark surprise of trick or treat. A bit of horror ready to take them all and bath them in Blood.
It was the northern lights but, it could just as easily been blood flowing from heaven to earth, from a cross to the pit you live in, from wounds on a head and back and hands and feet and side.
Some days with my mania the way it can be I am filled with dread just getting out of bed. You should have guessed it reading my writing by now, I am manic depressive, they have all sorts of names for it, but I know that I was always this way, but not as bad as I am now. The Now happened in 2005, when in a fit of depression and not a bit of self loathing I decided to not go to the doctor for something I figured I would either get over, or it would kill me. I thought I had fluid on the lungs, pneumonia. I did have fluid on the lungs, just not mucus of the pneumonic-demonic kind, evil laugh, the devils danced about the room and gleefully told me not to go to the doctor.
I had fluid bloody fluid on my lungs blood clots, and I knew when one of them passed through my heart, I literally had it trying to kill me for my sins, I got excited after thinking about a female I knew and I was still married and she was not my wife. Blood clot rushed about and passed through my heart and I had a heart attack or what I thought was one, I barely got into bed and sat up in pain for a while. Knowing full well I should go to the hospital and I could have, but I did not want to go, I would have at the time rather have been dead.
God works is mysterious ways. And you don't know the half of them. You might not even think he is alive and well, you might think he is only a nice guy you once put into a bundle of gold up on some stone altar in a shrine somewhere. You might not even want to think about it till after you get out of college or back from your trip to the Mars colony. Don't matter much what we think about what God is or is not. Well it does, but it don't, sort of like a paradox loop. God did not change. We did. Though you will know that I think these sorts of thoughts and you have learned to take it or leave it. The story still goes on.
I died or should have died back in 2005. I finally went to the doctor on the 29 th of Dec. way late in the afternoon, his last patient, Dr Lynn if you are reading this ( I told you I was going to be writing things remember back then, well this is as good as it gets right now, if anyone asks I give you written permission via these words to tell them about it all. ) I told them it was my lungs, laughs, it was but it was blood clots everywhere else too. Legs. Head. Arms. Lungs. Dead dead dead and dead and bloody at that. Dr. Lynn's post-it note drawing was literally seen by me as a post it note from God I do not remember much if anything of anything Dr. Lynn said after I looked at that piece of paper, I meant to save it and mount it on my wall, but I can still see it and I have been able to redraw it a time or two to show people, but it has no impact on them like it did to me.
I died, in my head I have to remind myself I died that day, but I have to die a bit every day still yet. I have to kill my self every day and let the blood pour down from the heavens like the Northern lights and fill me up with Christ. I can't be in here any more, but sadly for me it seems I can't totally wash me out of me and get all of Christ's blood in. Some one out there will point out the filled to brim with the Holy Spirit metaphor that this all reminds them of, and how they can relate to it. But we are still stuck with us in here, and we still sin daily even though we don't want to, Paul writes about that fact and how he does not want to, but can't stop.
It is a constant battle for me to balance my mania and my depression, I am good at balancing a stick on my head, just ask anyone that knows me, I have shown them it at least once, and I am always balancing something or other. So I do have the God given talent to do it. But I need a lot of help. And when I am deep in my pit of despair full of self loathing and shame and can't get back out of it on my own. I want to have it be filled with Christ's blood poured down from that cross, fill the pit up to drown me, hey I can swim, fill it full to the brim and I can swim out of the pit filled with blood and reach shore knowing that God Saved me.
May the Peace that passes all understanding be yours from Christ Jesus the Lord.
Charles.
posted by Charles Edward Owens Jr. at 12:59 PM
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