There are days I don't want to do anything. I don't want to study, I don't want to read, I don't want to interact...I don't even want to pray. There are times I don't know what I want to do; I just have feelings of apathy towards the world.

Part of this is due to my epilepsy. The medication I take is called Dilantin, and I take 600mg a day to keep from having seizures. Anyone who's ever been on seizure medication will tell you that the common side effects are drowsiness and lethargy. While I've been taking my medication for over 18 years, there are times when I still must fight these symptoms.

That's not to say it's entirely due to my medication. I don't like to make excuses for my actions anymore, so I realize there is a part of me that prefers to disconnect from the world. It is a rare part of me, and it only rears its listless head every now and then. I think it's a side-effect from working too hard, dealing with a cold, and getting off a routine. I still haven't adjusted my body to being back in Milwaukee since Christmas, and 3 times this week I woke up late for morning prayer. Half of me was angry with myself for not being more responsible. The other half of me simply didn't care.

As odd as this sounds for someone in my position, this is entirely part of the process of discerning a vocation. We as humans live in consolation or desolation with God. We may believe, but we may choose not to enjoy that love or follow that desire. It angers me that I am this way when I am choosing to live a religious life, but there is some safety in knowing that I am still me, and that I am being selected on who I am as a person...even if that means I turn into a depressed, emo friar every now and then.

Times like these come and go. When I start to experience this type of feeling, there's a few things I try to do and avoid:

1. I try and avoid huge decisions. If I feel I'm living a lie and that I really don't have a vocation, I don't make a decision to leave. I address those feelings in prayer the best I can, or I discuss them with my peers or spiritual director.

2. I try to designate what I don't want to do from what I don't wish to do. I may not want to go to ministry, but I don't wish that I didn't have to work there. I may not want to pray one morning, but that does not mean I wish I could stop attending morning prayer. By having an internal dialogue with myself, I realize that this is a temporary mindset.

3. If it is only temporary, then I continue to do those things I don't want to, because I know that I've received pleasure from those things in the past. For me to stop eating dinner with my community or any other activity is to make a decision that may effect my future pleasure.

There are even times when I don't want to write this blog. That thought has no actual basis, I just don't feel like it at times. However I know that this is something that gives me pleasure, release, and a sense of therapy. It is also the basis for a ministry that I hope to involve the Capuchins with. Therefore, while I might have the desire to just not write anything, I try to be honest and say whatever I can.

I apologize if I don't always exemplify the positive, heroic image of a man who's given up worldly things to follow the Call of God. I'm still a regular guy dealing with regular things. But by being able to express my feelings in a sincere and open medium, there exists a form of reflection and contemplation that brings about a unique type of spiritual healing.

2008 looked like a promising start in finishing up my debt. While my hours at work aren't what I expected (I rarely work 40 hours a week), the money takes care of my current bills as well as past debt. I also made plans to speed up the process by liquidating my Simple IRA. I know there's a serious tax liability, but between donations to my Church and the medical bills I'm paying, there should be enough of a tax credit to offset the $500ish liability.

I had the whole thing figured out - I even have it all mapped out in a wonderful Excel spreadsheet, until I got an unexpected call this morning.

"Good morning, Vito. This is xxx calling from St. Mary's Hospital. I was just calling to inquire about the bill for your recent hospitalization."

For those of you that remember, I went to the hospital in November because of a breakthrough seizure. I thought I had the total bill mapped out: $591 for the ambulance ride, $478 for the actual visit, and $21 to radiology for a single X-ray. That's just over $1000.

"Oh no, Mr. Martinez. We show a bill here of $2000."

My only response: "You gotta be &#*^ing kidding me!"

I quickly apologized, and told her how I'd received the bills already, and no where did I see a bill of that magnitude. Not to mention, my stay at the hospital lasted 4 hours - 3 of which were spent lying in a bed doing nothing but listen to the drunk guy next to me constantly calling the nurses "whores."

$2000. You gotta be &#*^ing kidding me. I could have had the same experience at a Red Roof Inn for only $45 and gotten a free Continental breakfast.

So to catch up...I could have been down to $1000 in total debt after liquidating my assets and applying my tax return to my bills. I added another $1000 onto that because of the doctor bills from my incident in November. Now, it is up to $4000 in net debt I have to pay after spending $3500 to pay off everything else. That puts the current total back up to $7500. I've asked for an itemized bill of everything I spent, and St. Mary's says they have a program which is supposed to help with some of the debt, based on my present income. Since I'm well under the middle-class tax bracket these days, I'm hoping something can be done about it. Until then, I need to figure out how much I have to pay per month to be debt free.

Is there a lesson in all this: yes.

First...get a tattoo on your forehead that says: "No ambulance rides please!"

Second...I'm beginning to understand the term "kicking and screaming" with regards to discernment. Each time I try to live this year in the way I want to, something comes up that forces me to turn back to prayer, to faith, and to letting God do His thing. Will God send me a check for $2000 with a simple message that says: "Here's looking out for ya. -G"

Probably not.

But each time I approach this decision about the Capuchins in a businesslike attitude rather than a religious mindset, things just don't work out. I worry about how things will get paid, I see "extra money" I can spend on stupid things, I find a reason to take my time in paying off debt. "There'll only by $1000 left to go by April. I could squeeze in a trip to Vegas before August!"

So when I hear priests talk about how "God took them, kicking and screaming, into the priesthood," I begin to understand. I want to do this my way, according to my rules, my Excel timeline, and my personally laid out budget. If I fight hard enough....

I shouldn't have to fight, and that's what I'm gonna try not to do. I'm just gonna sit with God about it, and see what He tells me to do. Probably not the best financial advice, but I think this is how I'm supposed to look at it.

On the bright side, with "Dubya" sending me that $500, 25% of the problem is done. =D

It seems like eons past, but merely 6 months ago, I would have cringed at the thought of openly discussing my vocational discernment. Thoughts of inadequacy mixed with feelings of doubt kept me quiet about this strange pull I was feeling. I didn't want this to be a "phase" or "the next thing Vito's into." Surely I was scared of what others might think, but I was scared about what it really meant to me.

These days, I talk about my calling the way I talk about other things in my life. Some have been more receptive than others, while some have really no words to say.

"You're seriously gonna be a priest? Oh my God, that's like so crazy!"

"And they're seriously gonna let you be a priest?"

"When you're done praying to baby Jesus, did you wanna stop by and play cards this weekend?"

Months ago, I feared hearing such things, and even now it would surprise most of you to know that these are comments from friends and co-workers. Should they be saying such things to me? Don't I find their comments hurtful?

It's taken a while to understand the motives and thoughts of people close to me, but after spending time in reflection, I honestly believe that I hear such comments from friends and family not out of malice, but out of confusion and ignorance; and the only way to conquer ignorance is to educate.

Let me explain further...obviously with another story from my life.

When I developed epilepsy at the age of 16, my first few seizures occurred when I was spending time with family. Growing up an only child meant my closest siblings were my cousins. Most of my cousins are guys, so there tends to be a lot of teasing and trash-talking.

However when I first had a seizure in front of them, the happy days were interrupted. This was something new for them - for all of us. It was scary, it was unsettling, but it was family. I am the eldest of the Martinez 3rd generation, so for boys 14 down to 10 to watch someone go into convulsions is not something to be taken lightly. Frankly, it scared the snot out of them.

Later, as I was diagnosed with Epilepsy and the family understood that I would have seizures for the rest of my life, it just became another part of who I am. And like most guys, when we don't completely understand something, or if it's a touchy subject to bring up, we joke about such things.

I see my vocation in a similar light. I've accepted that not everyone will be able to understand why I feel called to religious life. In most instances, explaining what a friar does is even more complicated than explaining my draw towards a vocation. For these friends and acquaintances, it's easier to joke about it. Sure it is a sensitive topic, but if I can get them to talk about it, even in a joking manner, and they realize that I'm neither offended nor shy about my calling, they may come to realize part of what this is all about. If I'm lucky, they'll start asking more important questions.

Until then, I will keep getting ribbed, but that's OK. Even when I hear: "So you haven't gotten laid in HOW long?" I still don't miss a beat:

"Well over a year...so about half as long as you."

I figure if my priest says he's going to give up celibacy for Lent, I'm still allowed to have a slightly skewed sense of humor.

Tonight I spent sleeping and fighting off regret.

The first week of being a pitboss was completely psychotic. I dealt with drunks, people who brought personal drama to the poker room, trying to fix paperwork that was out of sync...and the state inspector dropped by last weekend which made me even more nervous. When I wasn't working, I was trying to establish a new sleep pattern. I go to sleep around 4AM now, and wake up around noon.

Perhaps that's why I ended up having a seizure today.

When my body gets off schedule and my meds get messed up, I'm highly susceptible to a breakthrough seizure. On the way to work this morning, I could feel it coming on as I drove down the road. Whether by divine revelation or pure happenstance, I chose to take a side road to work instead of the freeway. The side road goes right by the car lot I used to work at. As a last-minute thought, I pulled into the dealership to relax on the couch, and get off the road. I remember shaking Elvis' hand, him asking "What's up?" and then waking up in the back of an ambulance.

No serious injury this time, thankfully. I do, however, have an added burden onto my discernment. My tally of debt was $5500ish. The ER visit and the ambulance ride will cost me close to $1000 in medical bills, bills that must be paid before August 1st.

I have this feeling of regret, as if I made the wrong decision in working at the poker room instead of staying at the dealership. This would not have happened had I stayed, my stress level is higher, and have to make more money to pay for my debt.

I could have died today. I could have ruined any chance of ever following a vocation. I could have lost my new job...so many things could have ruined my life today. It makes me wonder if I am on the right path.

I've had a song stuck in my head for the past few days, and it seems rather appropriate.

Eight months to go, Lord. Help me find the strength to keep going.


Please come now, I think I'm falling
I'm holding to all I think is safe
It seems I found the road to nowhere
And I'm trying to escape
I yelled back when I heard thunder
But I'm down to one last breath
And with it let me say,
Let me say

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

I'm looking down now that it's over
Reflecting on all of my mistakes
I thought I found the road to somewhere
Somewhere in His grace
I cried out "Heaven save me!"
But I'm down to one last breath

Hold me now
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain't so far down

Sad eyes follow me
But I still believe there's something left for me
So please come stay with me
'Cause I still believe there's something left for You and me

-Creed

This morning at work, I was in the process of selling 2 cars. It's always a nice bonus to show up to work with customers already on the lot. The day looked so optimistic.

One moment I remember walking on the lot, prepared to greet another customer. The next, I remember sitting on the couch inside the dealership...surrounded by co-workers, friends, and a paramedic.

I'd had a seizure while at work.

I sat there, with everyone looking at me with a sense of concern (and maybe some sympathy...I hate when people feel sad for me), feeling the bruises and pains during the aftermath. I was told that while walking across the lot, I took a step and went down to the pavement like a toppled tree.

Epilepsy is an interesting condition. Not only are there the physical symptoms, but you have to be able to let loose of pride. You have to be able to handle an embarrassing moment, and accept the reality that life will always be this way.

For those times that I like to talk big or I get too full of myself, the siezures are a snap back to my reality.

I was called by Bossman, Uncle, and some friends to offer a kind word. "Don't worry about anything," I was told from Uncle. I think he was implying not to worry about my job. That sets my mind at ease. They easily could have cut their losses and hired a new salesguy without an abnormality.

Regardless of the amount of money I can make at this job, the sense of acceptance and family, something I never expected, outweighs the monetary benefit of my new job. Perhaps that's the lesson I'm supposed to learn here. If they can accept me for who I am, maybe I can better accept myself.

My body is still sore. I'm going back to bed.