Jesus, What's Wrong With Us All?

How do I get myself out of this reality? I would ask God to take me out if I didn't have kids. I feel like it's not something I would do if I was God: Let someone leave early on Saturday night if they're work wasn't all done. My work's not all done. I don't presume to have the omniscient wisdom to know when it is. God does, I trust that. But I feel so tired sometimes that I just want to sleep forever.
Don't mistake this thread of my thoughts for suicidal thoughts. It sure ain't. I'm just done with this Matrix-like reality. This Buddhist hell-on-earth. Everyone is so sick. And I feel it in me. It's in my mind, my spirit, my body. I have spent more than half my brief existence on this planet pursuing self-help, spirituality, healing, enlightenment, truth. I still feel so faulty, so flawed. I still react when I know I shouldn't. I still pop off at the mouth. I still feel frustrated and put upon.
This morning was different, though. I was able to hold my tongue. I may have been thinking and feeling like a martyr, but I was silent. I didn't say any of the poor, poor, poor me things I was thinking. And I realized afterward I was TIRED. Dog tired. And that makes me: a) slightly delusional b) vulnerable and c) disconnected from the Source, unable to feel the tremendous power we all have access to.
So I drove my son to school this morning crying hot, fat tears for the first time in weeks. I've been wondering where the tears are for a while. I haven't been allowing myself the luxury of sadness. I've been busy being stoic.
Strong.
What a load of baloney. That kind of strong is the kind that breaks down on us when we need it most. When we're tired to the bone and have used up all the resources our pathetic physical bodies have. This body is fallible. It's our minds, our Spirit, our SOUL. The real truth of us lives in a place that is neither here nor there and is safe from the chemical imbalance that is depression, or whatever it is that's killing my husband.
I cannot convince him that doctors and pills won't really help him. I've stopped trying, at least for today. All I can do is feed my own soul, feel my own tears and feel God. I know that I have an infinite amount of strength when I accept that this physical disease may choke the life out of him, but it doesn't prevent me from seeing him as God sees him, seeing more in him than his sullen responses, seeing more than the work I have to do to keep us all moving. No one bites the hand that feeds them and feels free at the same time. I recognize that he has me confused with someone else. He thinks I'm responsible somehow for his pain. Maybe I'm just close at hand, easy to lash out at. I'm familiar with that idea.
I hate depression. I have had quite enough of bipolar disorder, hypomania, major depression. I can hate the diseases, and still love the people who have been told they have them, have come to consider themselves sick. I think we're all sick if that translates into spiritually wounded in some way. It happens when we're so young, and it goes on and on through life. We're convinced we are flawed and broken so early on. I'm retraining my brain to believe that I have control over me and nothing else. I have no control over society, the medical community, my husband, his illness, the person who cuts me off in traffic, my boss, or any of the many other people, situations and things that seem designed to vex me.
I am determined to make a better life for me and mine. I'm convinced love is the solution, no matter what the problem. I believe that Pastor Robin was on to something when she sat down with the smallest members of the church last Sunday and told them they were all 'members of God's club'. I don't think me and mine refers to the annoying girl who just doesn't seem to get it but still wants to be part of the conversation. It applies to my best friend, for whom I'd do almost anything. It refers to the woman in the Wal-Mart parking lot who chewed me out the other day for driving in a way she didn't like and it includes fanatics, racists, thieves and liars. It's not an excuse, or a free pass. It simply says we all come from the Source. If you've got a strong connection to it, then use it to see that people who don't aren't fundamentally bad or unworthy of your empathy. On the contrary, they deserve it, they need it even more. Haven't we all lived in grace, experienced mercy and the compassion of strangers when we seemed least worthy?
So, thus I answer my own question, stated in the title of this blog, "Jesus, what's wrong with us all?"