I think I have a problem with control. Recent events (as in, things from the last few days) have led me to believe this is true.

Last night I had a conversation with a 'friend' who made a comment that just made me snap. I don't want to go into specifics of said comment, but I will give a general briefing: when I told [Random Person] a possible job I may have for the summer they wondered if I would be able to 'handle it'. The job is a physical labour job, and the insinuation was that I couldn't handle doing a physical labour job. Some might think I am overreaching, but I assure you, this isn't the first such comment, and there was no mistaking the tone [Random Person] used.

Let's just say I wasn't saying the nicest things when the conversation had ended. I was fuming. The thought that some person thinks I can't do something isn't what necessarily bothers me. What does bother me is the underlying attack on my masculinity. Now before you go thinking I'm off my rocker, understand that this isn't a new thing coming from [Random Person]. For the entire time I have been friends with this person, I have always been held up to their standard of what a man should look like. And I ain't it.

I wish that it didn't bother me so much. I wish I could just brush it off. But maybe it's because I am fairly 'close' with this person that it bothers me so much, that it cuts so deep. I never get so angry as after some of the conversations I have with this person. It's ridiculous. They bring out a temper in me I didn't even realize existed. Of course, I never show it to their face. No, that's not the Kyle-Way. The Kyle-Way is to silently (or not so silently, depending on where I am or who I'm with) fume, let the anger and hate build inside of me until I either explode in a long-line of swear words or resign in apathy and go about my life like nothing happened. Last night was more the former. "That's not healthy," you say? No kidding. I don't need a counselling major to explain to me the importance of getting these feelings out. But who I do I get them out to? I don't know how to speak what I feel. I can only write it. So that's what I'm doing now, I suppose.

It sort of dawned on me, last night, as I was laying in bed, how much of my self-identity I get from other people. I feel as if I have no real sense of who I am. All of me is dependent on the ever-changing opinions of those around me, including the images I see on TV and magazines and the billboards lining the highway. I've never liked myself. Never fully, anyway. I hate that I hate myself so often. I hate that I never feel comfortable -- I never feel at ease with being me. I feel too flawed, too problematic, too weak, too fat, too quirky. How do I get out of this cycle? How do I stop looking at what other people think of me and simply come to terms with who God has allowed me (I say allow because sometimes it is simply hard to believe God could/would create a flawed human being -- but that's a whole other subject) to be? I want to not care if someone thinks I'm not 'man enough'. I want to simply be, and be allowed to be, and not be harassed for being. God, help me to see what you see; feel what you feel; think what you think.

Another thing occured to me today that sort of flows along the same line as what I was just talking about. I've got this issue with control. I want to be in control of my life.

See, one of my things (heck, call it a quirk) is that I can't relax in a mess. I can't sit down in a messy room and feel at ease. I just can't. When I live in a messy house or when I go over to a friend's house that is messy, I can't sit back and feel comfortable. It isn't that I'm a perfectionist (I certainly don't think I am, anyway). And it isn't that I need my living-space to be up to Martha Stewart's standards (sure, we share the same last name -- but there's no connection. I think. I hope). But I like order. I don't enjoy chaos. I like things to be in their place. And I've noticed how that runs over into other aspects of my life aswell. I don't like being in situations where I lose control of everything. Which, oddly enough, is one of the reasons I've never been remotely attracted to serious drinking/partying. I just don't like the thought of not being in control of myself. Weird.

But the control problems run even deeper. Like I said, I think it relates to how I feel about myself and how I feel about what others think of me. For one, I can't control what others think about me. No matter what, the thoughts they have in their head and the things they say to me or about me are completely out of my hands. Which is also a good thing, I know, because it means that their feelings, bad and good, are genuine. If I forced people to like me, they'd be robots. Interesting connection to the idea of 'Free Will'. I wonder if God ever feels like that too?

The second part is that I seem to have a hard time controlling myself, controlling my life. My addictions prove it. I am a diabetic and yet I still find it near-impossible to take my health seriously. Why is following an eating-routine and controling my sugar-intake so difficult? Why do I have such a hard time controlling my spending habits (this is an addiction to 'stuff' -- things I don't need but I want for whatever nonsensiscal reason)? Why do I have such a hard time controlling my exercise and losing weight?

The frustration lies in that I want to be in control, but I will never really be in control. Wow. What a thought. Where does this unfillable desire come from? Where along the line in my life did I start to have this problem? I'm going to have to give this some serious thought, I think. It's going to take some time. It always does.

(After writing all that I suddenly feel very concious of how messed up I am. But I refuse to pretend to be anything else for anyone else's sake. I can't afford to. My heart is at stake.)

I also want to make sure I don't leave the impression that God has been silent the last few days. I know He's there, poking and squeezing and breaking and fixing me, gently and firmly all at the same time. It's the reason I'm even writing all this -- because He's in there, messing around with my comfortable misery. Last night I read Psalm 46, because it's always been a favourite and I just thought to read it. It encouraged me and challenged me, as usual. It always makes me step back and realize that God is in control, not me. And to really get that, I need to stop talking and listen to Him. As verse 10 so beautifully says it, "'Be still, and know that I Am God.'" So that's what I'm going to do right now...

G'night.