sleeping the sadness

It's that feeling of being beat up, chewed up, spit out, and left to die. Does it get worse? Absolutely. I just don't like my odds as the pressure increases.
I am literally at wits end with this notion of not feeling loved. I DO know better but for some reason that doesn't seem to matter. I know people love me in this lifetime, yet the idea of living through this daily pain sometimes feels like too much, and it definitely has me feeling all alone.
Yet I must find ways to forge ahead. I have a beautiful son and I cannot help if my soon to be ex-wife doesn't understand the degree of my pain and regret for ever having caused her the same. I don't even begin to fathom her unwillingness to forgive and love me through all of this. It's as though she would prefer to see me as just another "forced" part of her life, whereby our only true affiliation is BJ.
I don't even have to tell you how big (or small actually) that makes me feel. It makes no difference how much I focus on resolve or making the best of my new normal, I still remain with this empty feeling.
It's fair to say these feelings can lead to other thoughts/actions that I have little/no respect for at this point.
It's at these times my life feels like one BIG faithquake. I keep hearing about how these circumstances might be a test of my obedience to God, or better yet a series of events used to measure my loyalty when under the gun, sort of speak. OK, f*ck that. I don't serve a God that plays mindgames. If I did, this idea of stretching somebody to their breaking point and gambling whether or not it would be enough to expire their very existence... I couldn't possibly think of anything more contrived and evil.
I guess this is why people have told me that I have a burning passion for following Jesus, yet I don't seem to comprehend what He is truly capable of in any situation.

I turn to my buddy Justin and some poignant lyrics offered in one of his songs...
"I sleep the sadness that noone else sleeps, hear me cunningly adore"

I'm tired of crying.
I'm against the idea of medicinal therapy again, it's been too hard on my body/soul.
I want to be/feel loved.

I need to feel a different kind of pain, and with that I find myself fighting back the idea of physical harm (not lethal) to take the focus off what I already feel... not the best remedy, I know. True, nonetheless.

I love BJ more than I ever felt capable. Being a father brings about sides of humility that I never thought possible.

I have amazing brothers in Christ, with whom I count as blessings each day. However, I don't seem to find ways to connect with them on the same level lately, a sign that my condition is gaining control of aspects of my life that I would much rather face alone.

I will be better after some sleep, even sad sleep. The body replenishes itself incrementally and I would love for it to take notice of the increMENTAL side.

I'm told archiving my feelings is a great way to step outside of their very existence. I have pledged some allegiance to this idea, of course with hope this concept will ring true.

Good night people. Thanks for listening.