This morning, my Fiat 500X Trekking lost power for the second time this week while I was driving. I realised I had pushed it to its maintenance limits and the situation was critical.

So, I scrolled through the settings to my engine oil temperature gauge and learned it was running hot relative to when I cranked it up; low oil pressure most likely. Slowly rolled down the hill to a nearby repair service shop where I had it inspected two months ago.

Two months ago, I was told I needed a synthetic oil change, a brake flush, and a new serpentine belt. But, the big ginger guy technician who still remembered me after not seeing me for like 7 years, said I had a little time.

So, I put off the maintenance. It’s expensive, I reasoned and I can wait a little longer.

Well, as Mordo in Dr. Strange frequently says, “The bill always comes due.”

As I sat in the service station, I thought about my humble Fiat. People hate on the Fiat. No one wants to be behind a Fiat on the freeway.

A long time ago, I briefly owned a Fiat Pop and one day I sped up to cross some train tracks. Little Fiat Pop achieved flight that day! It was exhilarating!

I have accepted that any crash on a highway will likely end in my demise due to the gigantic vehicles people choose to drive nowadays.

But overall, I love my Fiat. I was without a car for a long time (revoked license/poor) and I can easily go back to living without a car, but having the Fiat is handy and is perfect for driving in cities and on small streets.

As I sat and thought about my little car, I thought about what Fiat means.

In economics, it can mean money not backed by gold or silver.

The Fiat vehicle name is actually an acronym for Fabbrica Italiana Automobili Torino (Italian Automobile Factory of Turin).

But, in the religious sense, Fiat’s Latin meaning is important. It means, “let it be done” which often represents Mary’s joyful response to God’s will during the Annunciation.

The repair took a few hours as I also needed a new battery. Because of the stress of overdrawing to pay for these repairs, I distracted myself by thinking about tomorrow and how I need to try going to confession again to reconcile with God.

Over the past few days, I have been reading a few books:

• Humility of Heart by Fr. Cajetan Mary da Bergamo
• The Seven Capital Sins
• Confession-It’s Fruitful Practice

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I thought about what hurt me most about psychosis; it was the humiliation and destruction of what basic intellect I possessed as well as a mockery of my gifts. Gifts that I try not to use and look away from now. Technically, and ethnically, my gift is considered a curse.

In all of this reading I’ve been doing, even this morning, I woke up at 3 am and was reading about the seven capital sins and confession, I thought about what was also in the Humility of Heart.

I thought about how each of the sins I have chosen instead of opening the door to Christ (without slamming it in his face after doing the bare minimum of spiritual maintenance) was like mocking Christ’s gifts and his love for each one of us.

Recently, I felt like I was going to die. I was sure I contracted a disease from which there was no cure. And in that despair, I felt like I had to choose where my spirt would go. I picked God through Christ; I chose the suffering.

But, in truth, much earlier, my pride led me to question God’s mercy and divine justice for fallen spirits and people in hell. I feel much empathy and pain when I see suffering, and I cannot unsee what I even see in my inner world. It profoundly affects me.

I could not understand how God can withdraw his love and sight if he loves us, but now, I understand (not just in a basic intellectual way) that we choose to leave God’s sight. Even if God’s sight upon us is painful, it is necessary to help us learn about what is keeping us from experiencing the love of Christ.

Not too long ago, I wrote a post that talked about why I have an aversion to lust. I chose to hurt God by telling him that since I experienced sexual abuse and because he has not brought me anyone who really loves me, I would just settle for what was available. And I knew it would hurt God. I did it out of anger.

In remorse, after having seen with clear vision, the actual disease of lust and its effects on my soul and in my body, I stopped taking showers. My hair got rat’s nests in it and the hair stylist said they were pretty bad and so she cut my hair short to get the knots out. I stopped caring for my teeth which are in bad shape because I haven’t used my night guard (severe clenching) and my hygiene was so poor that a dentist recently tried to show me the problems with a mirror and I started sobbing and told him I couldn’t look at myself. He said I was being difficult. I cried and hyperventilated and I haven’t done much better with my hygiene but it is improving. Having a reason to leave the house each day helps as then I usually shower. I ate a lot of food and gained back 25 pounds. I stopped exercising.

So deep was my despair and remorse that I was confused when God said he did not require such abuses to myself to make amends. I still don’t know if I can trust that God would still love me after the things I have done, but I hope that he does love me and forgives me.

I abused my body because I was afraid that if I felt good about myself again, I would go back to my old life. As God is gentle, the consolation was that there is grace to help avoid sins and I need to ask for help.

After the Fiat was repaired, I drove it around town to get the oil flowing and to make sure everything is operational and safe for when my daughter is driving it.

During the drive, I got the idea to go across town to my favourite place to pray. So, I went and sat in the church and looked up at the crucifix and told God all that I’m sharing today. I finally thanked him for intervening in my life and apologised for accusing him of ruining my life and taking away my choice to end my life as I felt the suffering was unjust and would consume me (in the past).

Instead of asking for someone who could love me, I asked God to help me more perfectly love the people in my life that I care about and future people I may meet along the way.

After some internal intrusions, I realised why God had denied me a partner who could love me. It wasn’t that he doesn’t exist somewhere, it is because it may not be what is best for me. With my trauma profile, it is probably better that I remain single and celibate.

Now that I’m older, remaining single just sounds more realistic and I’m ok with it. I can still love people and experience love in other ways, and for that I’m grateful.

The cost of not doing the necessary spiritual maintenance is very high, and we aren’t always aware of it until the bill comes due. I am grateful for this time in my life to reflect, grow, and ask for God’s help. And I wish all of that time here on earth for you too. Thanks for reading.