Archive for the ‘god’ Tag

August 15, 2015   1 comment

I realize that there was a time when I wrote on this blog very often and then stopped.  I would come back and promise to write, but never really picked it back up.  I wanted to, but I never had the motivation.  I’ve started several other blogs under several other email address, different identities that tap into other sides of my personality, but I just can’t seem to get the ball rolling.  My brain is faulty I guess, I don’t know.  But i loved this blog at one time and I miss the sense of it being my “home base” so I want to write this out so if I am not able to come back again any time soon there is at least some sense as to why.

So much as happened to me in the last few years.  In 2004 my father died.  In 2007 my partner of 8 years died.  In 2012 my mother died.  All of those things are probably written about in here.  But they all also changed me and left me wanting for more.  Then my absolute faith in God was challenged and I have spent the last 4 years or so basically living my life as an atheist.  If you knew me, you would know just how intense and bizarre that was for me.  Then, last week, I just sat down on the edge of the tub of my bathroom and started talking to him again.  Him being God.  For the first time in four years.  We just talked.  And it was amazing.  It was like nothing I have ever felt before.

But you don’t have to worry about me becoming some kind of religious nut.  The relationship I have with God is really different than most people in that it’s a strong committed relationship, but it’s also very relaxed and open.  There are no rules really.  I don’t have to do this or that to make him happy.  We’re friends and he loves me just like I love him.  We just talk.  And share our stories.  And from time to time, I take  his advice.

But I do want to tell the story of my life.  And that’s going to take a certain turn.  It’s going to include my mental illness which means you’re going to hear about the fact that I have been hearing voices nearly all of my life.  And one of those voices has been Gods.  I can’t be sure if that’s real or not.  You’ll have to decide for yourself.  Just let me tell you my story and you listen and figure out what you want.

Anyway, I’m going to sum this up now with a clear “Thank you”.  I have enjoyed writing on this blog for the batch of you who read this.  And when I get around to it, it will mean a lot to me knowing I can count on your all to be intelligent, kind readers.

Take care for now,



1st Mother’s Day without Mom   Leave a comment


It’s Mother’s Day.  I know that I should be missing my mom, that I shouldn’t be able to stay composed what with this being the first time I have to spend this holiday without her, but I promise you that I am truly OK.  My mother was a pure delight of a human being.  She was laughter and dignity and charm and compassion.  She could take care of you no matter what condition you were in and always leave you feeling as though you were the most important person in the world and at no time did she ever make you feel as though you were putting her out.  Her love and care were effortless, she was able to comfort you without putting someone else down, she was able to build you up without setting someone else to take the fall.  She could spot a liar from a mile away, but she wouldn’t always call you on it because she knew sometimes it was just what you needed.  She was nobodies fool, but from time to time, she would let you get away with murder.

My mother had a strong faith, she talked about God and Jesus all of the time.  So often that it was easy to forget everything you had ever heard about them from anywhere else and find yourself starting to have a relationship with them through her.  But she didn’t use this to her advantage like most people would have.  She wasn’t interested in controlling anybody or gaining an upper hand.  She just wanted everyone to be able to have the same peace, the same satisfaction that she was afforded by sheer virtue of her closeness and trust in what she believed.  Her faith was so simple and pure that when we discussed it later on in life and came to points where we disagreed about religion and even the existence of god, she was very comfortable letting me have my own mind provided I allowed her to have hers.  She didn’t need to dominate my lack of faith.  She just didn’t want me attacking her need for it.  And I respected my mother’s beautiful relationship with her religion so much and was so grateful for all of the comfort and strength her faith and concepts of god had provided her over the decades that I never wanted to debase those ideals now at the end of her life when she was so frail and ill and they could stand to serve her most.  It was a deal I was more than happy to strike.  I found no greater joy than in merely accepting my mother for whom and what she was and in being accepted for the same by her.

My mother and I always had a close, odd relationship.  It evolved like everything does.  We were very dependant on one another the last handful of years even when I lived in Georgia.  I would make calls to her several times a week crying about how sad I was in what I could only classify as the “completely backwards, backwoods south”.  She always urged me to come home, which might sound like a typical mother but it wasn’t my mother, not typically.  And when she needed money or advice, she would call me, her youngest.  And when she was ill, she called me.  And I came home to care for her because my heart was always with her and in her illness I was dying and being reborn.

But the last two years of our time together were two of the best years of my life.  Yes, my mother was dying.  And yes, I was basically jobless, near homeless, suffering from a manic episode that would not pass, in and out of mental health treatment, dealing with many other family crisis-type issues and flat out broke, but I was there for my mom when she was sick, when she was scared, when no one else could figure out how to be.  I was the one she called and I was able, while going through all else, to be there for her.  We would stay up all night talking and laughing.  We got to discuss things that I’ve always wanted to, we got to gossip, we go to philosophize, we got to hold each other while we cried, I got to spoil her rotten on whatever food she wanted to eat and all the ice cream and back rubs she could ever want.  It was like heaven for me because for a while there my mom got to finally be the center of the universe and in my mind that was what she always deserved.  It took old age, 4th stage cancer and an overall tiredness to allow her to let me give it to her, but finally I was able to show her just how special she was to me.

I wasn’t perfect at it.  I would go a few weeks here and there where my own mental illness symptoms would flair up and she would have to take a back seat to my raging.  But in a way, that was a certain kind of blessing.  I needed some of my mom that I hadn’t been able to get up till that point.  And having me on my best behavior 85% of the time gave my mom a clear comparison to see just how hard being bi-polar really is and she could finally sympathize with my struggles.  It broke down walls for us so that I could explain what my life was like and so she could ask questions and get more involved.  My mother passed on knowing all about therapy, medication, symptoms and other treatments.  And that’s really important to me because now when things get hard on me it helps me to know that my mom understood and would want me to seek help and take care of my problems and not just hide or deny or pray it away.  She was proud of me for all that I dealt with and she loved me for exactly who I am.

Last summer, my mother and I were up in the middle of the night talking.  She was sick, coughing a lot and having a hard time catching her breath.  She was a few weeks away from going into the hospital for the last time.  She was telling me, between struggling gasps, about how when she was pregnant with me a lot of people thought she was too old to have another child and how maybe, just to keep the peace, she should have an abortion.  I already knew all about that, but I figured she needed to say it for some reason so I just listened.  She stopped talking for a few minutes and her expression changed.  I can’t really describe the look on her face.  It just warmed my heart in a way nothing else ever has.  She looked at me for what felt like forever, only now I know it wasn’t forever and a part of me wishes that it could’ve been.  She smiled at me and then said, “Can you just imagine if I did what they said where I would be now?”

You hear something your whole life and it goes from being too complex to comprehend, to too painful that first time you get it, to too numbing because you’ve just had to find a way to make it not matter anymore.  I’ve known my whole life that I was the kind of pregnancy that made my really Catholic mother contemplate an abortion and on many levels in many ways I have had to wrestle with that knowledge.

But with that one shared moment, all the pain washed away and I was reborn.  I still have a lot of struggle in me.  But my mother adores me and trusts me and knows that all the pain and sacrifice was more than worth it because she raised the kind of daughter who would always be there for her mother.  And that is because she was always there for me.

So today is Mother’s Day.  And I assure you I do not miss my mother today.  Not because I do not love her dearly, but because she is more apart of me today then she was the first 37 years of my life.  She is in my heart, on my mind and all around me.  And in her love, I have all the faith in the world.

Jen Czahur

The Four Pillars   5 comments

Hello everyone,

I am on seven prescription medications right now. Two are for high blood pressure, two are for high blood sugar, and two are for my bi-polar disorder with an antibiotic thrown in. It’s been several years since I’ve been properly medicated and it makes me feel silly to know that my body is not capable of handling its own shit. Blood seems to be the biggest issue for me if you think about it. Pressure, sugar and my growing urge to shed some because of my anger and mania with this possible other condition which is basically my blood having even more dysfunction.

I am starting to see life differently lately and I guess that’s why I’m bothering to share any of this. In some respects, I have never been clearer. But then there is this constant dark highway that I am traveling and I can’t decide if I am the victim or villain. I suppose it is entirely possible that I am both depending on which side of the walls you’re on.

I talk about losing myself inside of my head all of the time, even to my therapist. I am incredibly honest when I go in to see her. I believe that if it weren’t for my mom I would be locked up for a while. But I can control it. So, for now, I do.

I assume that often in these situations people get angry and can’t stop themselves from hitting someone or something like that. And because of that action, they are removed from society to protect themselves and others. I think that’s the more common occurrence. With me, I still have the control. The difference is that the list of reasons I have focused on my whole life to keep me from snapping is getting shorter and shorter. I just don’t have as much holding me back anymore.

I called these things:

The Four Pillars

And they were as such:

Disappointing my Grandmother
Hurting my Mother
My Karma hurting my cat (who has been the most important partner in my entire life)

I realize that if you don’t know me this list can seem silly, immature or insane. And I won’t bother trying to explain it all that much right here. At least, not as far as why they were my four pillars to begin with. But I will explain, to a certain extent, why they are failing me now starting from the bottom of the list and working my way up.

Budrick Von Beethoven III

My boy, my furry soul mate, my sexy lover chops; this cat meant more to me than any lover, parent, friend. He never let me down, not once. And even in his passing, which took place on May 7th of this year, he did the noble thing and passed away after I got to spend a week alone with him saying all that I needed to say. He also did this 2 days before I was going to take him to the vet so that I may never have to question if I did the right thing. Even till the very end, he gave me all that he had to give. But he is gone now and I no longer have to fear anyone or anything ever hurting him. And I am free again to roam, whereas before I vowed to live in my car with him before abandon him.

Pillar one down.

Number two is a deconstruction in progress. My mother is still alive, but our relationship has been so open and honest the last couple of years that I feel fairly comfortable falling apart in front of her. She knows of my mental illness as well as about my general health problems and she worries and prays, but she is there for me. And for those of you just tuning in, she is dying. She’s been dying for over two years now. Breast cancer that moved to lung and is now in her bones, she is still independent, feisty and mentally sound, but she’s getting weaker. Out of 4 children, I am the only one doing a damn thing for her and its so sad because, let’s face it, I am in no condition to be taking care of anyone. But I do what I can because I adore her and because she has always taken such good care of me.

What you need to understand is that my mother has an incredibly strong faith in God and Jesus and all that jazz and she just told me again the other day, “Don’t worry if something happens to me while you’re not here. Just remember that I am where I want to be.”

Now, I don’t believe that, but if that faith brings her such comfort and acceptance in an otherwise hopeless situation, then I support it completely. Never question the composition of your life raft. Just get ashore.

But as her tests come back to say her cancer is spreading further and further, I feel the time nearing when I can no longer fail her. I hate the thought of not being there when she really needs me and soon, she will be with her angels while I am free to travel the world; whether that be to see the sights or hide from the law that is between me and MY life raft.

Pillar two nearly down.

Now enters my grandmother and her bag of crazy. I love this woman so much it hurts, it literally hurts. She taught me my prayers, how to tell time, how to tie my shoes, my times tables. She gave me a better childhood than my father ever would’ve been able to provide. But she also twisted my sense of right and wrong. In my grandmother’s presence the truth means absolutely nothing. We all lie to her because she runs our family like a tyrant. And everyone, except my father, agreed that it was better to lie to her face and the live the lives they wanted once they were out of sight. But as a child it was all so confusing. And not having a solid father/daughter bond because my dad was the black sheep of his flock left me questioning every action and reaction I made or that anyone else made for that fact. My grandmother has driven me insane. Trying to be what she wanted, trying to let her dominate everything, watching the chaos of my family has fucked my head up so bad that I can honestly say I have no idea who or what I am at the age of 37.

But there is news from the frontlines. In the last year and a half or so my grandmother has sincerely gone batty. She talks to people that are not there. She has full on relationships with them. She prefers them to her own sons. And the family, a bunch of fools incapable of dealing with this, have just allowed her to stay at home, living alone, tending the family house. She is no longer who she was. I know now that all of her rules, all of her guilt and shame, it didn’t come from a healthy place where I was the seed of corruption. It was inside of her all along. And it was unfair for the children of that family to live the way we did.

I no longer worry about her approval, her acceptance, her understanding. I still love her. I know she did her best. But she is mentally ill too.

Pillar three smashed.

And now, last but not least, (or maybe it is) God.

I never doubted God. I doubted being Catholic. I doubted Jesus. But God and I were aces. Not once did I question. But in the last 7 months I’ve realized that if my “divine concepts” of everything else are just me being creative, then maybe God is too. Don’t worry. I said this before I walked away.

“Dear God,

If you are there, please use your vast intelligence, love and understanding to let me wander from your flock for a bit. I need to figure out who I am. And, sadly, the way you have been presented to me all of my life has made you more of a crutch, an excuse, a punch line, than anything positive. If you are there, I trust you have enough love in your heart for me to allow some time for me to think on my own and figure this stuff out. And if you’re not there, well so be it. Either way, whatever I find on the other side of this journey will be real, based on my own experience and something I will never deny or hide from. If you did make me, be content knowing that you made me to be able to pick myself up, dust myself off and make my way. And if that was you, thanks.”

Pillar four faded and non-binding.

So there you have it. I am nearly free. Free to slice your throat, save the world, who knows? But I am nearly free, free to be me.

Notes on Faith   2 comments

Just things that I’ve jotted down this week while away from a computer….

I’ll do something with it later.


“Think of him as nothing more than a man. Think of him as nothing less than God.”

“-But how is that possible?”

“It is better to spend every moment of your life
Days and nights combined
Trying to find your way through this mystery
Than to do anything other

It is better to never understand its complexity
To never answer your question
Than to ever believe you know anything else”

I’ve spent so much time as both sinner and saint. Speaking with the tongue of an angel. My hands doing the work of the devil. Switching back and forth like it is a person’s natural state to shift without concern between the two. Maybe this is unique to me. Or the few such as me. Or maybe – this is the way for all humanity. And no saint, nor devil should ever benefit or be denied due to the other state of existence that makes them whole.


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