Sleepless Nights and Self-Examination

I am not a person who has faith.  I was not born with it or given the gift of it.  And I did not develop it over a lifetime or in the middle of a moment of need.  Indeed, I haven't prayed in a long time.  Faith belongs to people who are better than me.  Faith belongs to people who believe. 

No, I was given the gift of doubt.  Instead of faith I got doubt; instead of belief I got questions. And I would not give either back for all of the tea in China.  I am a doubter; I have a million carefully calculated questions and the capacity to generate a million more- on every topic, for every whim.  I am better for doubting, I think, better for keeping my eyes open and my soul to myself. 

Normally, for me at least, doubt functions much in the same way as fear.  Rather than inhibiting me, it motivates me.  It pushes me to explore, to understand.  It places a mirror squarely in front of everything I am and forces me to gaze- at myself, at the way I think I see the world, at the way the world is.  

Doubt is the lynch-pin in my very labyrinthine psyche.  

It holds a place in the ever-changing triumvirate of my being- there's me, there's the beast, and then there's the doubt.  Each has it's own amount of power and it's own unique ability to override my brain or my heart, or my spirit.  I've been broken by all three- myself, my disease, and my doubt.  But I've also become exactly who I am because of all three.  And doubt hardly ever gets a shout-out here, I think because I am so grateful for it, in it's own way.  My own way.  

Doubt… doubt I cherish even though it can so easily turn on me and become self-doubt.  

That's the doubt that keeps me up at night and dogs the edge of every thought.  That's the doubt that haunted me last night, whispering in my ear, spooning me like a lover.  That doubt is the doubt of 'Will I?' or 'Will I ever?', 'Can't I ever?'.  

'Will I figure this shit out?'

'Will I ever give myself a break?'

'Can't I ever just accept that I am exactly what I am'

'Why can't I have a little faith?  Just a little?'

Because I don't have faith.  And I don't get to have it.  

Ever. 

And that is, ultimately, okay.  Because eventually the need for sleep will win over the whisper-whisper-teary sigh of doubt.  Eventually even the most excruciating self-examination has to stop in favor of unconsciousness- whether welcome or not.  And when that happens, when all parts of me are released into nothingness, it does not matter if I have doubt or faith or belief.  

All that matters is that I have peace. 

Until next time, Dearests of Hearts..