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This is a screen shot from the movie "Before the Devil Knows You're Dead", a movie about two brothers who make very bad decisions and find their lives unraveling. I'm very much in touch with that feeling this morning. I don't know if it's therapeutic, but I want to lay out these bad feelings in one place. Maybe to face them. Maybe to mark a bottom place in hopes that things don't get much worse.

I have three weeks of laundry accumulated. I don't have cash enough for the laundromat. I need help getting the bags into the car and I'm daunted by the simple task of pulling the wet laundry out of the machines and into the dryer. I'm not out of clothes if I'm careful. I will be able to have some cash on Wednesday, but don't know if I'll have energy for the four hours at the laundromat until next weekend.

A friend called last night and asked if she could ask another friend if she could clean house for me. I'm guessing that she means to pay the other friend who makes her living this way. I told her I'd get back to her. How can I describe how such an offer accentuates how bad I feel? I don't even understand it myself. I really would like my space to be cleaner and Alicia has done a great job in the past. None could do it better. I am sad that I can't pay Alicia with my own money. I am sad that I am physically unable to get on my hands and knees as I used to. I'm sad that I can't climb a ladder. I am sad that I'm in bed much of the time because of pain. I'm sad that despite how much I work through therapy, there is a race between physical progress and physical deterioration. I don't think I mind accepting help when I think it's temporary. I feel that a helpful person would like to see some progress for their efforts. Help for me seems like a place holder.

On a daily basis, I have food, shelter, transportation, work, medication, entertainment and work. So much more plenty than so many others in this world. But I struggle with the feeling that I'm entitled: that I'm entitled to security that I don't have ( ... my church paid my rent this month and I don't know how I'll make the next car payment and the car takes me to work), that I'm entitled to more (my friends and family often complain that I should have a better apartment). I know in my mind that I'm not entitled any more than anyone else, but my heart has a different story.

My best friends, the people I most confided in and sought advice from, have died in the last ten years. This reminds me that I am mortal. I feel unready to die and realize that I'm not progressing in that readiness. I figure I'll be even worse off before I die. That's not optimism. I wake up too often with very dark thoughts.

This improves during the day. I have plenty of diversions ... and probably too many opportunities for entertainment. I have good spiritual resources which are handy when I choose to use them. I have wonderful people in my immediate world ... the graces of people make the sins of people easier to bear. The grace of God make my own sins easier to bear. Spiritual resources don't guarantee happiness, but they do sustain me.