I don't know what it is.
It is essentially a...Blah.
Now that is, of course, the layman's interpretation of my condition. I'm sure there are many cardiactical, neurological, hormonal and environmental factors that weigh into any official diagnosis, but the long and the short of it is this nasty, nagging, unrelenting feeling of BLAH.
There's a line from some song that says, "My get up and go must've got up and went." That is exactly how I feel right now. Motivation for forward motion or any kind of locomotion has been undermined by a demotion of emotion and lack of devotion to the promotion of lotion...or potions....or....um....whatever.
See? I used to be able to wrap up a rhyme scheme like that easy peasy- put a nice bow around it - now, it just peters out in confusion and I just can't bring myself to care. There are a few things I'm no longer able to bring myself to do;
I can no longer walk on eggshells very well. I was never terribly adept at said talent before, but I managed to hold my own. Now, I just can't see the payoff. It's uncomfortable for me, it's enabling for the person who scattered said eggshells in the path in the first place - it really doesn't serve anyone. And as of late, it's been something I have decided not to do. Instead, I remove myself from the equation. Extract myself from the eggshell field. Logic - if I don't interact with you, the odds of my not offending your tender sensibilities go up substantially. A win/win all 'round.
I can no longer work twelve hour days. I used to be able to, and reveled in my ability to do so. Now, the motivation, energy, passion, hope - whatever you want to call it or all of those things, is either in short supply or has totally dried up. I try to look at that as a good thing, since twelve hour work days aren't the healthiest things in the world, but it still feels like it's got "LOSER" stamped all over it.
I don't care (as much) what other people think. I'm trying not to care at all, but societal conditioning is strong. Bottom line is this - I know that I'm a good person, and that what I do in my day to day and the way in which I do it doesn't hurt anyone. Therefore, I'm going to do it however I want. If I decide that today is Opera Day, and I am going to sing every word that comes out of my mouth, then so be it. If piercing my ears numerous times seems like a good idea to me, then it will probably happen. As I've said in previous posts, life is simply too damned short for me to stress out about what strangers (or not so strangers) think of me. It's like Dr. Suess says,
"Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind."The only thing that might possibly stimulate this battered, beaten, bewildered soul of mine is that thought that something might actually be fun. So, if something fun should actually arise, should I not do it because some idiot on the street might think less of me? Too many wasted years living that noise, let me tell ya.
Let me say here; I'm not trying to throw myself a little pity party with this post. As with my other postings, I am laying out the information on a subject, analyzing it and trying to come up with some solutions. I am honestly at a complete loss as to why I am feeling the way I feel lately, and if spilling my guts in blog form brings me any closer to a solution, then so be it. Because feeling like this...sucks. A lot.
I used to feel like I was happening to life - like I was an active participant. Now, I feel like life is happening to me - not even that - happening around me. And where I used to be an active player on the field, now I no longer feel like a player, and most days I barely feel like a spectator. Usually, I feel like the guy at the snack bar choking down an overpriced chili dog, wondering how much time is left in the game before he's gotta fight traffic to get outta here.
'Cause when the game is over, and I can get the hell out of this crowded stadium full of people living their lives, following their dreams, chasing their rainbows....
I can finally go outside and smoke.