I’m going to be honest: I don’t know how to thrive. From the outside, my upbringing was white, middle-class suburbia. From the outside, my current life is the same: white, middle-class suburbia. But on the inside, it was chaos.
It still is.
I have been in survival mode all of my life. The chaos around me–messy house, messy car–feels normal. It’s what I know.
Either that, or I don’t care. Life has been about finding that one bright, shining place. A quantum of solace, if you will. This will make me feel good. That will make me feel normal. It never works.
My sleep is worse than ever, but I still get up, go to work, do what I have to.
Because I have to. It’s a joy to provide for my family, but the work is rote–all obligation. It’s the same day-in-and-day-out, with the only variation being that there is more of it. More pressures, more demands, and I’m falling further and further behind. I’m sure eating more, putting on weight, and not really caring about my health. A comedian once said, “Eat right, exercise daily, die anyway.” <--My name is Chad, and I approve of this message. It used to be a joy to craft a post for this blog five days a week; now the words come in but a trickle. I’m not sure I care.
It’s been a hard–desperately hard–year with Lisa being ill. I have work I should be doing: a
half-assed half-finished novel, and a half-baked halfway done memoir. I don’t have the energy, the mental acuity, to focus in on them.
Frankly, they scare me. There are places in my soul I’m not sure I want to go. And am I even a writer? I don’t know anymore. I don’t write everyday. Maybe I’m just a computer guy who blogs occasionally?
I’m not sure I care. What does it matter anyway? I just need to get by, find my clean, well-lighted place, and maybe someday retire to the beach.
Then I can think about this writing thing. Give it more time. Life is enough all on its own right now. I have a family, a job, a house. I’m blessed.
Why does it feel like I’m not making a difference?
I could be, with everything my family and I are living through this year, somewhat depressed. Not clinically, but situationally. I just know it’s hard to see past the present. I live one day at a time…
What’s out on the horizon?
I don’t know.
Have you been there?