I had a longish post in my mind all over Yom Tov, but I don’t really feel well enough to write it now.  To summarize, (sorry, not translating Hebrew to save time.  Google is your friend) I had a really bad cold over Rosh Hashanah.  I made it to shul first day Rosh Hashanah, but I missed second day (including the shofar blowing) and Shabbat Shuva.  I spent most of the day in bed, with what might have been a temperature and certainly was a lot of acheyness, tiredness and congestion.  I felt really bad about this.  I was excited that I would hear the shofar properly both days which the depression has stopped me managing for many years and I was very disappointed when I missed second day.  It really felt like I was trying hard to come closer to God and He was pushing me away (again).  I was supposed to go out for lunch on the second day too, which would have been the first social thing I’ve done in ages, but I missed that too and felt I let my would-be hosts down.  I part-missed another social thing, which was when my second-cousins came over with their young children today.  I slept through most of their time here and although I joined them at the end, I was wary of playing with the kids because I didn’t want to give them my cold, which was a shame as I had been looking forward to playing with them (I like children, but don’t get to be around them much).

Just to make it worse, on first day Yom Tov, on saying the word “be’ahavah” in the Amidah, I really felt that God loved me, which I don’t usually feel.  Of course, there was a downside, which was that I immediately felt utterly unworthy of His love and started crying (in shul).  I felt, not that I had done something wrong, but that I am intrinsically wrong.  Just plain wrong.  And then the next day God stopped me fulfilling His commandments.  It is hard to know what to feel about this.  Certainly feeling that I am wrong is abused child territory.  I was not abused as a child, but I suffered a lot of bullying and emotional neglect and it left me with a lot of self-loathing.  So I don’t know what to think about all of this.

The one good thing that came out of this was that I forced myself to go to shul for Ma’ariv tonight to pick up my tallit and machzor so that they would not get lost (the shul is only a shul on Shabbat and Yom Tov; in the week it is a school and stuff left out goes missing).  A couple of people asked where I had been and if I was OK, including someone I don’t even know very well.  So that did at least make me feel that I’m beginning to be accepted into the community.

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