I don’t know how much of it I’d call fighting, there’s been a lot more surrendering, and that’s not a good thing. It’s just exceptionally difficult, and so much of it seems so utterly pointless (the pointlessness being more a tool of Satan’s than of God’s). Of course, sometimes our lives, especially disastrous ones, are often only meant as a warning sign to others not to let it happen to you. Well, I guess I won’t know for sure until after I buy the farm, and perhaps not even then. I still fear I’m going to be met with a lot of head-shakes and tongue-clicks on Judgment Day for having wasted a lot of time (alas, a particularly nasty side effect of depression and illness when you are so sapped and discouraged from trying to overcome). Unlike you, however, as time passes, I become more bitter and moribund, especially towards my own failings. Probably far too much self-pity, which is likely also more sinfulness. I’m also just very tired in every regard. It’s very hard to relate the bulk of my situation with most others, and perhaps in a way, that’s a relief, because I wouldn’t want most people to walk in my shoes.
ditto