Right now . . .

 . . . I'm struggling to believe in mercy sufficient even for me.

 . . . I am having trouble accepting the things that have gotten me through the last twenty plus years.

 . . . I'm not feeling like a threat to my own existence because of that, by contrast to days past. I'm very low on the avoidance scale they gave me so long ago. I felt worse last night, but still wasn't nearly to the planning point. 

 . . . I feel incapable of raising  my hand in the simple act by which we identify ourselves as Catholic Christians.  I know that no one deserves the grace it represents, but what I seem to know more, right now, is that I don't.

 . . . I don't like this place.

 . . . I feel incapable of reaching out in any other way than this. If you ask me how I am, I will probably smile and say "fine."