7.23.2002 :::
 
It is difficult to witness my parents' jihad against the Hollen family. This afternoon, my mother excitedly informed me of Danny's display of aggression toward her. I believe her excitement was due to having found another weapon to use against him, and as such, I question her motives. She claims to be confronting Danny's sin in the matter, but she is completely ignorant of her own. She has displayed no mercy thus far in her dealings with any Hollen, ruthlessly ousting any who stand in the way of her self-righteous tirades. True, I believe both Danny and Dave to have erred in these matters, but to me, her complete lack of forgiveness is far more disgusting than their actions. I still hold the Hollens in high esteem. Their generosity toward me has never failed, even to the point of allowing me to stay for three days without prior notice. They do not hesitate to offer me refreshments when I am a guest in their house. These actions alone far outweigh the perceived wrongs my mother claims to have suffered at their hands.

I cannot control the bizarre, reckless ideas which spout continually from my heart. I suppose this condition is termed “desperate” by the vernacular. I cannot fathom a way to keep my emotions under control. Someday, I am promised, this pain and confusion will become all the sweeter for the love I shall find. My heart longs for this to be true, but my mind refuses to accept it for fear of disappointment. Perhaps it is not my mind rejecting this idea, but the fear in my heart. Thus the civil war within me rages inside my heart, not between heart and mind.

During a period of self-examination, I was able to determine the underlying source of my frustration and depression: my feeling of hopeless inadequacy. I feel as though I will never measure up to the standards established by my parents or the girls around me. If I cannot measure up, I cannot hope to ever win their love and respect. Thus, I find myself on the path of loneliness. Perhaps, if I could convince myself inadequacy is a natural part of existence, I could stop relentlessly attacking myself for my imperfection.

::: posted by Peter at 22:39