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Am I The Only One?

(A journal entry from February 10, 2013)

Am I the only one?

The only one who passed almost all of his classes in high school and college, but can’t seem to make sense of Adulthood 101?

The only one who wishes to be a kid again every single day?

The only one who sees wedding and engagement and birth announcements and, after a minute or so of joy for friends and family, places them on a shelf in my mind marked “Everyone Else is Successful but Me”?

The only one who is content with singleness in theory, content with the idea that God hasn’t brought the right person into my life yet, yet goes to bed every night alone and afraid and afraid I’ll be alone for the rest of my life?

The only one who falls into a pit and, instead of getting back out within a reasonable amount of time, spends days lying down in apathy, spends weeks walking around in minute circles and spends months digging myself in deeper and deeper?

The only one who gets a bitter taste in his mouth after sharing fake pleasantries?

The only one who feels like I’ll never get it together, never be like one of my heroes or inspirations, never match the success of my peers and acquaintances, never attain my childhood dreams or meet my ever-lowering expectations for myself?

The only one who feels utterly helpless and incapacitated when I miss a meeting, when the computer doesn’t work, when I can’t fall asleep, when anything is out of my hands?

The only one who feels nervous and agitated when I’m sitting alone at my apartment, anxious, wondering if someone is going to break in and steal my things or freak me out or merely see the mess that is my isolated existence?

The only one who hears loving words and sees kind eyes and radiant smiles, yet thinks “If only you knew the beast within, if only you knew my thoughts and my sin, if only you knew how terrible I am– you couldn’t smile at me”?

The only one who feels ill-prepared for life, not knowing how to change a tire or fill out my taxes, not aware of politics or able to cook a healthy meal?

The only one who shines with golden light when someone merely says my name or looks my way– yet on a completely similar day shudders in fear and anxiety when it happens again?

The only one who compares myself to others as naturally and automatic as breathing?

The only one who wants desperately to do something about my life, so I work hard and clean up my mess and get my stuff in order and in balance– yet still everything comes crashing down and I’m left unable to do anything once more?

The only one who finds pure comfort in sitting on the couch watching TV or sleeping in in a cozy bed, yet hates myself for how much of my life I waste watching TV or sleeping in?

The only one who is happy yet uncomfortable outside my apartment door and unhappy yet comfortable at home once more?

The only one who prays and reads the Bible even daily at times, yet feels no passion for God, experiences no connection, feels neither presence nor absence, but just numbness?

The only one who gorges on junk food then worries about getting fat or dying of a heart attack and resolves to do something about it, but forgets my resolve at the bathroom scale?

The only one who knows that everything is okay, that all of these issues are normal and experienced by people all over the world throughout all of time, that I’m gonna get better and things aren’t as bad as they seem, yet can take no comfort in it?


No? I’m not the only one.


I just wished that meant something.

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