Sorrow of the world that worketh death.

Acedia (Latin, acedia) (from Greek ακηδία = neglect to take care of something – and in this case neglect to do whatever one should do in order to be saved) is apathetic listlessness; depression without joy. It is similar to melancholy, although acedia describes the behaviour, while melancholy suggests the emotion producing it. In early Christian thought, the lack of joy was regarded as a wilful refusal to enjoy the goodness of God and the world God created; by contrast, the apathy was regarded as a spiritual affliction that discouraged people from their religious work.

When Thomas Aquinas described acedia in his interpretation of the list, he described it as an uneasiness of the mind, being a progenitor for lesser sins such as restlessness and instability. Dante refined this definition further, describing acedia as the failure to love God with all one’s heart, all one’s mind and all one’s soul; to him it was the middle sin, the only one characterised by an absence or insufficiency of love.

This morning I prayed to God to show me what was wrong with me.

I dont feel like exerting myself, to be a good wife, to be what I can capable of being, and why I just plainly feel that I do not care.

I went along from looking for “work” in the corcordance of my bible, to “sluggard”, to “slothfulness”, to “acedia”… its painful to learn these things about yourself, but like putting medicine on a wound, it is necessary.

All my life I’ve lived not knowing why I felt what I felt. Sometimes I stare at a wall and just cry and the utter sadness overwhelms me, and I don’t even know where it comes from. I thank God that He has shown me what He wants to heal me of.

There is hope in God, and His love endures forever. And He does want to heal us of this and live our life to the fullness of His plan.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

I do not know if it is widely known that if you compromise yourself, your own principles, that you slowly allow your soul to deteriorate. I don’t know if that is what has happened to me, but I do feel that I have been eaten up inside.

I’m pretty sure that I messed up somewhere, I just can’t place my finger on it. Maybe it was the time that I let myself go and became a shopaholic, or when i tried to have plastic surgery. Or when I got married and stopped considering my own station and tried to see life from my husband’s perspective, and then everything else followed suit.

How appropriate that Ralph Waldo Emerson would quote that. It cut me deep into my soul. I always fancied myself to be able to withstand anyone’s point of view and there I was, coping in the wrong way.

There is a line that is drawn, however, and one can only take so much before violating one’s own soul. This blog is that line. One thing is for sure, women like me should get out of this rut, or else we will pass the point of no return. This is where it stops. This is where it ends.