I’m finding that no matter how hard I try to maintain, doing jobs that are difficult for me, jobs that I have to do “or else,” places my whole frame of mind out of whack. I notice myself getting agitated, and the day drags, and the searing pain persists, and the chores just keep coming, and no matter how much I realize there is light at the end of the tunnel, I can’t fully attain the smiley face. The feeling is so drastic that even long after I’ve gotten home I still feel the dread, a feeling probably deriving from the underlying notion that I know I will have to return and do more. I will say it plain and simple: It feels like being a slave.
I think I must have been a beady-eyed criminal in a past life because it seems uncanny that I’m just perpetually moving, unemployed (careerless), disabled, single, and never fully having met with success: I’m being punished for something. But I have to look at these aggravated feelings as building blocks for growth. The more I deal with things I don’t like, the easier it is to deal with them when they come, most of the time. Sometimes I hear sayings that don’t really help, sayings like: “Do you believe in God, he can help you?” “No.” “Well, He believes in you.” This saying is so unhelpful, and to me, only signifies some form of self-validation for the person persuading. Other sayings I hear are like, “Well, we all go through that.” This doesn’t help me either.
I have a strength obviously that carries me through, one akin to a person who has children. People who have kids work at car washes if they have to, or whatever it takes to care for a child. I’d feel better if my efforts we’re going toward the benefit of a child. What else is strange, however, is how it seems one moment I’m going through a grueling time, and that it’s about over; but soon enough another grueling time arises. So grueling times are life. Why all the ups and downs? Good moments, bad moments? WTF? One minute I feel pretty good, and the next it’s the pits.
People iron their lives out, and that’s what I’d like to do, iron my life out. If this makes me undesirable, then so be it. I can always use my next post for pointing out all the incredible things that are in the process of unfolding in my life. What’s good is that it’s all true–the good things that will eventually happen, what’s sad is that it sounds like the ramblings of a confused teen. So I have to work at not being resentful, and I can do this, and I can keep doing jobs that make me utterly miserable until I find a better one.
If I close my eyes and dream of us together on the beach, me and you, and waves are crushing into the sand and a bonfire is crackling away, I can get through. If I think about the moment when I wake and find you curled into the pillows next to me with your hair gliding over your face as you dream, then I’ll keep trying. If I look around at the starlit night and wonder, not at the beauty of the Milky Way, but at the thought that we are holding hands, then life isn’t so bad after all.