In Which I Want Some Cheese To Go With My Whine. Or some Wine to go with my cheese….

I’m currently in the UP. I don’t wish to post the exact location on a public blog for who knows what whacko to see, not that it’d be that hard, because the UP only has so many places I could be.

Anyway, being here is hard. There are 2 people here who are constantly irritating me, one of whom was constantly irritating me during the LAST satellite group. I do love that person anyway, however.

Being in the UP is hard. It was hard as I crossed that bridge, knowing that I wouldn’t cross it again, at least, not as soon as the others would.

And it’s hard being here to minister to the yoopers. Those of you who know me extremely well will remember that I don’t like yoopers. You’ve probably heard me rant and rave before about them, so I’ll skip most of it.

Some of that prejudice has died down a bit, partly since I’ve REALLY been trying to love the Lord and part of it is probably just that I don’t have to live with them anymore.

Even so, I no longer am constantly thinking about how much I hate these people, but I still don’t feel much of a desire to save them from anything. Frankly, I think these people should be relocated to other territory and the entire UP abandoned to the wasteland it is, and maybe use the land for nothing but agriculture. Actually, I’m more of a fan of salting the entire UP and leaving it to be the wasteland of nothing that it is.

Yoopers, as a culture, are pretty close minded. They have their yooper culture, and any other culture just doesn’t even cross their thought process. the others will not likely pick up on this, however, when one has lived up here for a few (non consecutive) years, one tends to pick up on these things. Yoopers also mostly eat meat. and maybe some potatoes. And then more meat. We are trying to sell health cookbooks to people who just don’t eat healthy.

And there’s another rather obvious obstacle that James either just doesn’t know about or does know about and doesn’t care when he was setting book goals: Poverty. There is a reason GLAA has what they call “the yooper discount.” If you live in the UP, you get a good 3 grand off your tuition. The reason is that 99% of yoopers are poor. They work jobs like McDonalds, hotel maids, restaurant workers, etc. The only people up here who are well off are doctors, lawyers, and maybe police officers. People like my dad are the exception: he works in his basement for a company headquartered in Calamityfornia. Otherwise, he couldn’t afford to live here either, unless he wanted to be POOR.

Those of you who are familiar with canvassing terms: the UP has 1-4 territory. Period. That’s it. You might find a really nice house or two here and there, but for the most part, 1-4 territory. Exceptions would be the Marquette area, because that’s the biggest city in the entire UP.

Because of this widespread poverty, it’s really hard to sell books. People are either really nice about it, or really mean. And they’re mean because they don’t have any money, and these seemingly rich people from out of town come up and start trying to get money out of them.

People who visit think yoopers are so nice. And they can be –to strangers. But, and my family found this out the hard way, once you move in here and try actually belong, then they get mean, hostile. You see, small towns are like that: they don’t like outsiders trying to come blend in.

And God wants me to minister to these….people?

I am burned out on canvassing. (I’m not sure if that’s because of actual canvassing, or because they just lengthened the workday AGAIN by another hour. Even Sheena protested at that one: she argues for temperance in all things.) When Kamil comes, I am so very very tempted to ask if he is driving back through Munising, and if so, could he please PLEASE take me with him.

I am supposed to be working on testimonies. I should go do that.

Help Me

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En Que Yo Tengo MUCHO Miedo

This part of the post was written on Tuesday. Events referred to took place on Monday.

So, as might be guessed from the title, today was Spanish territory. I’ve known this was coming: 2 days ago Kamil dropped off some spanish children’s books and cookbooks, and the day before that Jorge found a “random” Spanish GC. And yesterday Kamil asked who all spoke Spanish.

So, I’ve known this was coming, but I thought they would give us TIME. Like, to prepare a canvass. You know, something besides, “libro, bueno, diez dolares.” I mean, really.

And then Wyson actually makes an announcement after worship. As he’s calling out names I’m like, oh crap, what did I do THIS time. Anyway, and then he says, “go backstage and grab as many spanish books as you can.” And my anxiety cranks up about 10 notches.

Going to Spanish territory was something I wanted to do, but at the same time, I didn’t want to do it. My Spanish is TERRIBLE. And I’m supposed to be a Spanish major.

Anyway, so, we stock up on books, Wyson sets a goal of 12 3 book sets, and then we can take off early and go swimming. For the record, we reached the goal, but are still waiting for the swimming part. The leaders are having a meeting. That’s seriously the 4th meeting they’ve had in the last 36 hours. What could they possibly be meeting ABOUT?

And it turns out that not only are we going to Spanish territory, we’re doing BUSINESSES. Now, by now half the leadership knows that if you want me to succeed, you DON’T put me on businesses. I have a DEATH fear of them. I think I am the only one left who feels this way. Everyone else has gotten used to them by now. Not I.

Anyway, so, I go to the cafe, and I use the bathroom. I’m there for a long time, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to chicken out even though I’m praying. But then I came out, and the guy looked really nice, so I figured I’d canvass him. He had his daughter with him, and I was kind of switching back and forth between spanish and english. I actually admitted that i was nervous and that that was making me worse. Oh man. I’m still so embarrassed. I want to erase that from my memory, it was horrible. Why am I writing this down?

Long story short, he ended up borrowing money from the register for Heroes Verdaderos (Real Heroes) for his 5 year old. He and she were both so nice. she said I spoke really good spanish, after I said I spoke it horribly.

A few businesses down, I entered an ice cream shop. Well, actually this old man opened the door for me because he saw I had a big bag of books and was carrying them as well. I wish I could forget this part as well, but that’s because of my….well, me.

You see, he had most of his front teeth missing, and I have a hard time understanding people like that in English. he wasn’t speaking very clearly, so I completely wrote him off.

After the girl rejected me, the man asked what I was doing, so I explained as best I could in my broken Spanish. I tried to answer his questions, when I understood them. I showed him the books. I showed him every single Spanish book I had. When I pulled out Peace, he got really excited and clutched it to his chest, and indicated that this was the one he wanted. (He had already given me the money, it was just a matter of choosing a book.)

And then he asked if I wanted some ice cream. I communicated that I can’t eat ice cream, so he said I could have another drink. He said he would pay. Which is good because I don’t have a whole lot of money right now. I wish I could tell you what I drank, but I don’t know. I had  a choice between about 4 flavors: pineapple, strawberry, mango, and rice. Well I thought rice was a weird flavor, so I decided to try that. It tasted like sweet rice water, and it had ice cubes in it. It was SO GOOD. We talked and sat there for a while because I’m a slow drinker and this was a tall drink.

Even though communication was hard, I enjoyed talking with this man very much. Ashamed as I am of it, I write this down because God taught me a lesson. People are people. I almost missed this man because I let my prejudice get in the way. When I can’t hear people or understand them, I tend to stay away, but we are all God’s children, regardless of whether we can speak clearly or not.

I hope I meet that man in heaven, when language is no longer a barrier and everyone will speak clearly. I hope he tells me about the book. He read out loud for me, and he could barely read, but he was so excited about Peace. I hope he tells me how he laboriously read through it, and how, even though he said he already knew Jesus, it changed his life.

I met up with Kiana shortly thereafter. While we were waiting, she said that one of the ladies she canvassed had asked if she’d been to the boot shop. She told the lady that she had, but that the manager wasn’t there. The lady then scribbled a note for the manager, telling her to look at the books. Kiana asked aloud if she should go back. I was hesitant at first, but then when I saw the note the lady had written, I strongly encouraged her (well, us, really) to go. And then I prayed that James would be slow in finding us, because I had already called in that we were ready for pickup.

I prayed that all the way down the block.

Fortunately James was slow, and he said, “I’m here” just as we entered the boot shop. I then had to go back out and explain that “we moved, we’re in a boot shop, and I don’t like this part of town so please don’t make me stand outside too long.”

It’s Kiana’s story, really, so before I get this down for testimonies I’ll chase her down. I’m not sure what was going on except that the woman was there this time, and she was very interested. She almost got a 4 book set, but put back one at the last minute. The one she put back was God’s Answers.

So that was our (Kiana’s really) last business experience. It was such a blessing to see though, because someone was excited about our books.

And the really beautiful thing about today’s story? I knew that I had enough to worry about with Spanish AND businesses. The past few days, I’ve been obsessed with reaching the goal and getting to the pool. But today I said, “God, you know I’ve got ALL I can handle right now. I can’t try to sell a 3 book set (which has never even happened in English). I’m just going to worry about books. Any book. If you want the team to reach the goal, they’re going to have to reach it without me. I’m not going to worry about it, because you and I both know that I’ve got all that I can handle.”

And…haha, I had NO IDEA that we weren’t going canvassing that afternoon until like, halfway through lunch. The day I decide that I don’t care about the goal and getting off early, is the day it happens.

We still didn’t get to go swimming though. Wyson miscomunicated. The rec center closes at 9, the POOL closes at 6. And they don’t allow shorts, so no one except me could go anyway, because I have swim shorts (they said those were ok.)

Now it is Thursday, our last day in Troy. Am I sad? not really. More worried about how I’m going to pack everything. I should’ve sent more stuff with Callie. Apparently Kamil is going to bring stuff to the retreat, but I can’t go due to lack of ride to parents house, so I HAVE to take everything WITH me, or somehow get money to ship things back. Which is going to be expensive and I am running so low on money that Wyson might not get paid back until… I don’t know when.

Yesterday was our last day in Troy, and we wanted to finish with a bang. I know not whether we as a team did or not, I wasn’t paying attention to today’s goal (due to lack of pool.)

The morning was really slow. It just felt like the last day of school, and who does work on the last day of school? But in the afternoon there was one lady who was really interested, but she only had $20. So she went through all my books and asked which I liked best. I said I LOVED Man of Peace, and then she asked which I preferred between Peace Above the Storm and Lessons of Love. Well, I have read all of maybe 3 chapters of the former, and 8 chapters of the latter, so I recommended the Love, which she got. I called them in, and then not the next house, but the house after that, God used me to get a 3 book set out to a woman named Verna. She was very interested in the cookbook special, and she came out with $30. I had a damaged book that Jeandra said I could sell for $5, so I told Vera that she could either have change, or I could give her Joy in the Morning (Thoughts from the Mount of Blessing.) I asked her if she wanted it and she said yes. She was so very kind, even though she spoke so very little. I’m honestly not sure how with it she was. She told me that she lived with her children, but they were grown, and her sister.I hope she is more with it than I computed, and that she (or someone in her family) enjoys the books.

The Lord uses me to get out a 3 book set THE DAY AFTER the whole team had a goal.

And then, I really need Anthony for this one, because I wasn’t there for half of it. Anyway, it was, though I didn’t know it then, the last house. There was a group of teenagers outside hanging out. Lord, I don’t want to go over there. Please don’t make me go over there. I was standing at the door of a house, praying that they would come out and that Anthony would be fast and work his way to the teenagers before I got there. But no one was answering the door. Anthony has his back turned… if I skip this house and cross over to the other side of the street, no one would ever know…. is Jeandra watching?

And then, as so often happens with canvassing, I get a guilt trip. If you were a real Christian, you would love canvassing. You would never skip a house. It would never even occur to you.

Lord, please, can I skip this house? Please Lord don’t make me do this. No no no no no no no NO “Hi, how are you guys doing today?”

It turned out that they were the easiest teenagers to talk to that I’ve ever met. While canvassing. At first they were going to reject me, but then one guy said he’d take a look. I showed him the books, but he goes to university and doesn’t like to read more than he absolutely has to. While we were talking, Anthony had finished his side of the street. Since I was on the last house, I wasn’t sure if he’d cross over or not, or just call in for pickup. Anthony is a much better seller than I am, so I waved him over.

While Anthony was talking to the guy, someone told me I should talk to their mom, that she was generous and would probably buy something. So I went to go talk to her. She gave me a small donation, and said she would probably help more but she was flat broke except for what she gave for the HD (and then didn’t even take the HD.)

I was fine with that, so I went back to Anthony. By now Jeandra was there, and the guy has 2 DVDs in his hands. His friend actually loans him money to pay for them. And it’s time to go. I WANNA KNOW WHAT HAPPENED DANGIT. Anthony didn’t tell me.

I’m rather ashamed of it, but I felt kind of jealous. Anthony got the sale instead of me? And then I was ashamed of my jealousy: I should just be glad the DVDs got out, what was WRONG with me?

I hated myself more in that moment than I have all summer. And this summer I have hated myself a LOT.

And then Anthony surprised me: he said that, since I was the one who started the conversation, that I should have half the sale, and slipped me $10. I asked if he was sure, and he said yeah. Jeandra saw that and nodded and said, “fair is fair.” For some reason I thought she would protest, so I guess this was all the encouragement I needed.

I thought about refusing, but I’m selfish. And, really, I guess if I hadn’t opened the door, Anthony couldn’t have walked through it. If I hadn’t started the conversation and called Anthony over, I’m not sure anything would’ve gotten out. So it really was a joint effort and I WANT TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED. Gah. I like Anthony but now I need to track him down because I’m annoyed.

What would’ve happened if I’d skipped that house? What would’ve happened if I’d never skipped any of those other houses I’ve skipped this summer because I was afraid? Rebellious? couldn’t stop crying? (Well, I don’t think the latter is entirely my fault, but there have probably been better ways to handle it.)

Anyway, my laundry’s done. We’ll speculate about could have beens after I wake up properly.

Help Me

 

July 25, 2012so…

July 25, 2012
so, yesterday I had a post written out with what you all really wanted to read about: canvassing experiences!

But today’s post will be different, and so things might get posted out of order, because this stuff I need to write.

Haven’t had a lot of experiences int he field lately anyway. It’s been rather dry.

Basically…. before coming here, I knew that this experience could either make me, or break me. I was determined that it would be the former. Unfortunately it seems to be doing the latter. I feel like Callie’s Samantha doll: broken in pieces with the stuffing ripped out. Flawed, and everyone knows it (because everyone has seen the disembodied doll on my desk. They think I’m creepy.) I feel like all my faults, all my flaws, have been ripped open and exposed, not only to me but to everyone around me.

What have I learned from canvassing so far? I learned I’m dirty, rotten, evil, wicked, selfish, selfish, selfish, that I don’t love Jesus and I don’t even know if I can call myself a Christian.

I thought I could learn to love Jesus doing this. Is something wrong with me? Is my heart just too cemented in stone that it can’t be fleshified? When I stepped close to The Point of No Return, did I actually cross that line? Is all this effort in vain because I’m damned anyway because… Candyland? Because of how hard my heart was, is it even POSSIBLE to soften it?

I have been taking a good long hard look at myself. Canvassing is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. Yet I’m working for the Lord. If following Jesus is this hard… and keep in mind that “hard” is not really a strong enough word…. maybe I do not want to follow Jesus at all?

No, that didn’t come out right, let me explain. I hate canvassing. The people here who sincerely love Jesus love canvassing. And they don’t mind working all day to reach a goal when the reward already is no longer possible. They don’t take into consideration whether or not goals are possible to reach in time to partake of the promised reward, because they believe God can and will do anything. Am I bad and wicked and evil to believe that, even though God can and will do anything, goals should still be within reach (though still a stretch)?

Yesterday we reached our goal and had the rest of the day off. And about 4 people decided that, with their time off, they wanted to…. go canvassing. I seriously admire that. I really do. And I wish I felt the same way but I don’t. Am I bad and horrible because I’ve been wanting a day off all week?

I still feel like this isn’t coming out right.

I serve God out of fear. I learned this, but it doesn’t mean I can magically start loving Him.

I am a fair weather christian, if you could even call me christian at all. I wish I could be different, but I’m not, and I have been begging God to change me but he hasn’t. I don’t know if he CAN until I develop some sort of love for him.

I might as well just stop there because my thoughts are not translating well to paper. I’ll just put it this way: I’ve tried to convert so many times, tried to surrender, relied on God to do so, etc. I don’t know what makes it work for others and not me, but it doesn’t. I don’t want to do this if I can’t go all the way. I’m seriously thinking of just ditching Christianity and going back to….

Well, I’m not quite sure yet, but I know one thing as sure as I know that the sky is blue, the grass is green (or brown, depending on the rainfall) and the sun rises in the east and sets in the west and that the stars don’t move through space, we do: I do not want to live like this anymore. It just isn’t worth it.

Help Me

In Which I am Disappointed Anew

As soon as I heard today’s goal, I knew it was unreachable. BY 5PM Wyson wanted us to get out:

32 DVDs

200 HDs

Now for some perspective: all summer we have gotten out 40 DVDs. I forget exactly what Wyson told me we were averaging as far as HDs per day, but it was a low number. Double digits, but below a hundred.

He basically thought it was possible to double all this IN TIME TO GO TO THE POOL.

It’s one thing to have that be the day’s goal, that’s fine. And maybe the reward is….well, not there or just delayed. Fine. But to have a goal that we can not reach in time to take advantage of the offered reward? I feel like that is even more discouraging than not having a goal in the first place. To keep promising students a reward and then offer these ridiculously high goals… well, I was listening in on Wyson’s conversation with Joana, and I’m not the only one who feels this way. Actually, maybe the rest of the students haven’t quite worked it out in their heads. Some of them actually thought that goal was reachable. But they’re not the ones paying attention to the facts. The numbers. They’re not the ones looking at and weighing what is and is not reasonable.

Of course, I would expect the LEADERS to be doing this sort of thing, but that’s another rant.

No, this post is not going to be a rant about the leadership. That was last post’s topic. Today I am going to be a little more positive. I had a headache today from the heat, and I hadn’t really gotten enough water. Well, that was the official reason. It wasn’t really a lie, but I just told Wyson that so he wouldn’t know that the REAL reason I sat in the van for a bit was because I couldn’t stop crying and I felt I needed to recoup.

And I listened in on the calls, because, I mean, he’s got it on speakerphone, how can I avoid it? I heard Joana and Wyson talk about alternative options for swimming. Which made me esteem them more highly.  I THOUGHT I even heard Joana say something about goals being more manageable, but she didn’t phrase it exactly like that, and I probably just misheard her. Her car actually met their quota. She said that the students were getting discouraged because they wanted their reward, screw the rest of us. I actually wouldn’t mind that if it hadn’t been stated up front that this is a GROUP goal, and that this averaged out to x amount of dvds/HDs per van, not that it was every van for itself.

Yesterday I was mad, but not because our van reached the goal and no one else did. Not because I thought we should have our reward and screw the rest of them. I was mad because…well, that’s last post’s topic. We’re moving on now.

Joana sounded like she was overwhelmed a bit by student complaints. I don’t blame Jo for feeling that way, but neither do I blame the students.

And we’re getting to why I managed to make it through the day without screaming at Wyson. (That was MY personal goal, anyway. He actually said I could hop in the van before because I had a headache and I didn’t because I was afraid I’d just scream at him.) I was talking with Wyson, and I realized why he sets these unreachable goals. At first I thought it was because he is out of his tiny little mind, but as we talked, he told me that when HE was a student, 200 HDs was the average. That in spirit week when he was a student (if someone wants to know what spirit week is I’ll tell them, but for the sake of time I’m going to pass the explanation right now) 75 books was the goal and they would hit it by 5. The last week of canvassing, they would hit 100 books by 5.

So, Wyson does not suffer from some form of mental illness. Wyson suffers from Old Man Syndrome. I’m sure you know the type, the person who says, “in my day, we walked to school 5 miles both ways uphill in both directions through 8 feet of snow every morning, what do you mean you want me to drive you the 2 miles to school just because it’s -20 degrees farenheit and there’s a cold weather advisory on tv? Get your coat on and WALK.”

Or, if that doesn’t hit home for you, the parent who says, “when I was a kid, I WORKED my way through school, you don’t need government aid, you just need to work.” Nevermind the fact that things are different now. That you can no longer be considered an independent adult until you’re 23, regardless of how long you’ve been living on your own, regardless of how much your parents don’t support you. Because of that, you have to put parents’ information, and some parents are too rich for aid, but too poor to actually afford it. See, in their day, the government wasn’t that horrible. Old Man Syndrome consists of, “I was able to do this, so you should be too.”

This is Wyson’s 7th summer canvassing. So I don’t exactly know how long it took him to get so out of touch. He argued that God is still the same God. Well, yes, but you also have to remember that God will not force himself on anybody. If we don’t get a certain amount of books out, I don’t think it’s because God was not with us or not powerful. I think, rather, it is because Satan has power too, and people have a choice: they can choose to be under God’s power, or Satan’s. Some people choose not to be under God’s, and there’s nothing we can do. God will not force people.

I don’t know exactly what’s going on. Maybe it’s the territory that is different. I mean, this is the first time we’ve been in Troy for a good 5 years or so, therefore we don’t really know the average for the area.

I managed to civilly talk to Wyson about it. Not about OMS, but I asked if the goals could be made more reasonable in order to actually partake of the promised reward. I mean, 200 HDS as a day’s goal? Sure. Just don’t promise us something we can’t have if we don’t get that out by the time the pool closes, because then, by my (and possibly others’) definition, we’ve already failed.

Marenda is actually under the impression that the leaders are not cruel enough to NOT take us to the pool this week. She said that maybe, if we reached our goal every day but couldn’t go to the pool, we could have Thursday off to go to the pool.

I am under no such delusions, but it doesn’t matter.

We did not reach either goal today. At all. And this is with Wyson taking us to the gas station after we left the field. They actually made us leave because, well, duh, who wants solicitors in their place of business after dark? I forget the exact numbers. I know we got close, but jeez.

Tomorrow, I should jsut close my ears to wahtever the goal is and count it as a regular day. But I tried that today and it didn’t really work, just made things more discouraging.

Something smells good. Makes me realize I’m hungry. But then I’d have to be around people… and some of the people from Joana’s car are actually angry because we didn’t reach our goal, because, you know, we were slacking because we didn’t get enough stuff out. Yesterday, I was not angry at the other teams. Disappointed? Yes. Wondered why they weren’t doing well? Yes. Frustrated? Yes. But not at them. Not one single bit of my frustration or anger was directed at them.

I guess high schoolers (some of them, anyway) don’t always understand these things.

Help Me

In Which I Realize That I Am Depressed

July 20, 2012

 

Wow, huge revelation for someone with depression, isn’t it? No, I don’t really know if I’m more depressed than normal. Maybe the correct word for how I feel is “frantic.” I told Wyson something the other day, and I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t. You see, I keep telling people, hoping someone will help me. The fact that I told Wyson just shows how desperate I’m getting. Wyson is not a licensed therapist, nor does he have a way of getting me to one.

Most of this post was written on the 19th, but I’m tahnkful to God I didn’t post it because parts of that were….hateful. So now it’s getting edited/added to today, the 20th.

Most of this is just me venting. In case any leaders are reading, don’t get to upset, I have to vent my negative feelings somewhere if not to anyone in the program.

Yeah, I’m that paranoid. God there is something awful wrong with me.

And….it’s really starting to bug me that I don’t sell a whole lot of books. It’s not just the money thing (although that is a HUGE part of it) It’s also like… I feel pointless. Even from a ministry standpoint, if I’m not selling any books, or praying with anybody (no one’s really seemed open to that) if people are just shutting me down before I can even speak, what use is it for me to even be doing this?

And then Joana’s words come back. I finally figured out what REALLY bothered me about the way she handled it: she was attacking me. It was basically just an Abby bashing session, only worse, an Abby bashing session using the BIBLE. There was not one good thing said about me in that whole meeting. Just: Abby is bad.

I can’t even convince myself it’s not true, because the bible says the exact same thing. Abby is bad, there is no good in her.

And when I realize that, I wonder what the point of even living is.

Recently, a friend decided to put some distance between me and her because…well, BPD is ugly. I don’t blame her in the slightest, and I’m not angry. But it contributes and it kills, because it’s just one more thing that is wrong with me, and I don’t want to live with BPD any longer.

It all adds up. I’m just so numb… maybe that’s part of the reason I’m not selling a whole lot of books?
I feel hemmed in on all sides by fear. Fear in the field, fear in the “home.” Honestly, I prefer the fear of going out to the field (only houses though) than being in The Nuthouse, because…. well, I can’t quite put my finger on why. Maybe it’s because I feel like “home” ought to be the one place you can go to for comfort and support, but here I find only hate. I long, I ache, for someone I love and trust to put their arms around me and tell me something good about me. That there is good in me after all, and that I’m not a horrible person who just drags everybody down and doesn’t deserve to be here.

Which, if I’d been capable of speech, I’d have told her that A LOT of people don’t deserve to be here. I could mention the one kid who sits there at every business he canvasses and texts, “but not for more than 5 minutes because then I get a guilty conscience.” I could tell her of those who, like me, have chickened out at businesses or skipped houses. I could have told her (well, reminded her, really) about Will, who, when he has kitchen duty, will frequently just walk off and leave us. If I had been capable of speech, if I’d not been jerked from my lovely bed way too stinkin’ early, maybe I’d have told her all of this.
But maybe not. Maybe that would’ve seemed like I “had a bad attitude,” so it’s probably good I wasn’t capable of much speech.

But there is no one. There is only anxiety, always the anxiety. The anxiety that either I or someone else will do one small little thing and I or we all will end up getting punished for it. Anxiety that what I say will be taken the wrong way, that a joking statement or even a compliment will be taken and jumped on as “having a bad attitude.”

Callie pointed out that I signed a contract to follow the rules, not to be treated with respect. But I didn’t think you had to put BASIC HUMAN DECENCY in a contract. I thought that that was….well, basic human decency.

I’m staying inside to write this tonight, because it’s wet. God doesn’t love me, so none of the rooms are open besides the two main ones, and I am NOT staying in the main girls room till I absolutely have to. So I’m in one of the hallways, and hearing all their jabber is….I dunno. It’s like this rush, this intrusion of stimuli.

So, this part is written on the 20th.

Wyson successfully pulled me out of the kitchen. This makes it official. My official job is now working on those testimonies. And now that I have more time, I can bother more people for testimonies outside of worship like Wyson suggested.

It’s weird, because this is like telling me that my work on this project is valuable. But then they are constantly wanting to kick me out…

This is going to make my life SO MUCH EASIER. I am extremely grateful, so much so that he can’t know how much. It’s not just that working in the kitchen was getting me down, it’s that…well, the work is beginning to pile up. Now that I have more time to work on it, it shouldn’t pile up so much.

So, I asked James to tell me exactly what was discussed about me in the leadership meeting this morning. I didn’t know at this time that I was out of the kitchen, so I was thinking more along the lines of, “well Abby, they’re talking about your chore…” Instead he comes back with, “well, they want to kick you out, because you’re not selling enough books.”

o_0

“But I thought I was doing better?”

“You’re attitude is better, but your numbers have gone down since satellites. There are 3 people who are really struggling, it’s not just you, but you are one of he 3.”

“Well it’s not due to lack of effort on my part” I mean, what am I supposed to do, FORCE people to buy my books?

“I know that, and that’s why some of us, including myself, argued against it.”

“let me guess. You and Wyson are for me, and the others are not?”

Good old James. I can always count on him to give me an answer.  I can’t think of anyone else who would tell me what went on yesterday morning. And this time, I could tell by the look on James’ face that I was right about who was for and who was against me.

And that’s…depressing. I feel like writing the leaders a nice letter:

Dear Leaders,
Please stop trying to kick me out. If I didn’t have to worry about that, I wouldn’t be so stressed, and then I would sell more books.
love, Abby.

Think it’d go over well?

Yeah, me neither.

Seriously, why am I so awful at this? I thought I’d get better. I thought I’d work really hard and do all that they told me to do and that I’d sell a bunch of books and never ever have to worry about getting kicked out, having enough money, AND I’d know I’d done a lot for Jesus.

I have 3 more weeks. I really do not want to get kicked out at the 8 week mark. That would just be so….wrong.

Now I feel even more pressure to sell books, which is going to lead to me selling LESS books, because I think it’s been too much about money lately. Maybe that’s why less people are buying (although I personally think REDACTED was just better territory, which it was). Maybe they can see that I only want money, because I’m scared I won’t be able to afford therapy. Scared I won’t be able to afford school. Scared that…well, that I won’t have a lot of money.

So, yeah. That was….really long. I’ll make brownies for anyone who actually read through all that. That is why I am depressed. So depressed. I feel like I am just numb and…I want to sit down and cry and I can’t, because tears won’t come.

I know I need Jesus, but, I also believe in going to a doctor when one is sick. With mental sickness, that means a therapist. It is my personal belief that, in my situation, a combination of both is necessary.

I have a zillion and one things to do. I’m still behind on testimonies, and now that I have “extra time” they are expecting me to keep my stuff neater, which is very difficult because there’s just no place to PUT it all.  That’s another thing I have anxiety attacks over: I have no place to put/organize my stuff. I hope Callie comes quickly so I can get a whole suitcase out. That would free up so much. I’m also hoping she’ll steal me away for a bit…haha we’ll see, I know.

Anwayy, this blog post needs to end, because who wants to read about someone who’s depressed?

I’m sorry everyone. If I did have a point, I lost it, and this post went NOWHERE.

Help Me

I wish I could get that object back from Wyson. I really do.
Help Me