All those periods of silence in my blogs, believe me, were not always so
silent. I've written many things (and got started on many others) that I thought
better about posting, and so they were deleted.
This morning, on the way to attempting a little update about what's going
on with me, I've experienced three more aborted attempts. I aborted and deleted
a couple of attempts yesterday and finally just gave up and stuck a movie in the
DVD player.
Right now my job is driving me nuts. And yet another stick was added to
this camel's back on Friday. Not being able to go into any detail (because I
don't want to take the chance of something I write being used against me), I am
being forced to suffer in near-silence.
I said near-silence because I was fortunate enough to score a date with my
lady friend yesterday (we are both dissatisfied with our inability to connect
more often) and I was able to vent my spleen to her over some hamburgers (not
the cheap, fast food type!), onion rings and "homemade" banana pudding.
That helped a little. But it also served the purpose of reminding me how
much I enjoy her company and wish I could have more of it. Bummer!
I think a conservative estimate would be that I've deleted at least four
times as many ramblings as I've published. And many of the posts I finally
did put up were painstakingly edited for content (I know I really ought to do
more editing for style and grammar, but if I took the time to do that my output
would really trail off). I really worry about things I say coming back to slap
me in the face.
My dad was the strong silent type. Me? I'm the strong mouthy type. I feel
better when I get things off my chest. But discretion being the better part of
valor and all that, I guess I will suffer in relative silence for now.
You see, I don't think my depression is bad chemicals in my brain. There
really are some annoying things that are eating away at my feelings of well
being and contentment. Perhaps I'm not always doing as well as I should or could
in dealing with these things, but I'm not as young as I used to be, either.
There was a time when if a job made me unhappy, I would walk away. Not so
easy when you're older and less attractive to potential employers, when you have
established yourself with an employer over a long period of time with seniority
and benefits, or when you have responsibilities towards others, such as I feel I
have with my aging mother.
I think that trapped feeling is what does it for me. I like options - lots
and lots of options. About the only real option I have for most of the major
things that are chapping my cheeks right now is finding a way to make the best
of them.
Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change....
Anyway, having finally got to the end of this update without more than two
dozen or so deletions, I'm going to sign off and put a movie in the DVD player
and think about other things. I'm going to watch Gore Vidal's Lincoln. I saw it
once (most of it, anyway) over a decade ago and remember enjoying it. Heck, it
anyone knew how to navigate with the rough seas of life, surely it was old
Honest Abe.
Now the next time you hear from me I plan on being a little more upbeat.
Right now I just can't seem to pull it off. Maybe tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow! (How
am I doing at faking it?)
Employer to Doug: You wouldn't be happy even if I used a new rope to hang you with. I know about that stuff. My union saved my livelihood more than once. No picnic out there working for someone else!
ReplyDeleteI shared this a good while back over at D'Ma's but perhaps you missed it then:
Enraptured by the promise
of glorious tomorrow
life carries on -
Disgusted, perhaps
by the nauseating details
and frustrations
and conflicts of today -
shivering with memory
of bad moments past -
Still:
believing in the ribald promises
of sweet - tongued tomorrow
life goes on.
End of composed poem. It is from ages ago. Now tomorrow has no sweet promises. Now what? Each moment must have its own gift (or so thinking at least has some comforting quality). One appreciates the clinging to "Standing on the Promises" even though one's belief is gone.
@ exrelayman,
ReplyDeleteYou're right, I did miss that. You know, you really should start a blog. You always seem to strike a chord.
Ah, my job. No union, and Georgia is a "right to work" state. I'm being maneuvered into a position I don't won't. It is much more responsibility and much faster paced (and there will be no more money if I take it, but less if I refuse it) - at a time when I'm looking to slow up a little. I guess it's a bit of a back-handed complement that they want me for it. But I don't want it and there is no graceful way for me to get out of it. And that irks me.