Tag: melancholy

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What a glorious damned day

Been playing at this one book for years, finally wrote it and now I am full of angst about whether or not I should just print it for myself or actually sell it. And I want to talk about it but there’s no-one really to talk to about it. So here I am.

My site has cobwebs, no-one has been here in so long, including me. Need to get to my class work but can’t focus. Urgh. Coffee and go! Motivate! (I just want to hide in bed all day. Perhaps I deserve it, I have been writing 12 and 14 hrs a day for over a week. Edits, re-writes.) No wonder I lack motivation.

Also, I get no encouragement and pats on the back these days and that is hard. I am writing in a tunnel, a vacuum and that is so so hard.

Maybe I need to switch to arting for a couple days. Getting on with my day. It really is a glorious day.

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Life. October 14th.

Ugh, angst, the cloud of depression trying to raise its head, feeling even older than my years… Just ugh.

Today is the 14th. I’m good, really, but dealing with some allergy issues and annoying things. I guess I’m one of those artsy-fartsy, melancholy, prone-to-the-above-list-of-things kinda person. And that gets annoying, too. Sometimes I want to be able to take a vacay from myself.

The virus/pandemic mess just exacerbates the other. And the political climate-(God please let this election get over with already so I don’t have to think about this every f-ing day.) 

I’ve been thinking about how most people seem to lack imagination, and I’m over here with overmuch. An abundance. Too much, even.

I can imagine way too many things, too many scenarios, too many thoughts that others are having, too many reasons and answers for questions large and small. I can imagine entire worlds and universes. I know there are no new thoughts under the sun, I’m not that unique, but I imagine that I am and that I am going to think up everything, things that others before me have never thought.

I get lost in my head (if that isn’t obvious).

I am trying how to learn to live in the moment. To live each moment of every hour and every day, not over-thinking, not imagining threads of various outcomes for the future, on the scale of my life and the larger scale of our country and our planet, but the here and the now. 

And I do meet so many people who seem to have zero imagination. They just accept everything. They cannot imagine a better life or a different life, they believe every answer anyone ever gives them and question nothing.

I don’t understand people who aren’t lost in their heads all the time, they seem like a different species to me and I find myself envious at times. How much easier, more peaceful it must be. To know everything, (or think you do, you have it all lined out, figured out, you want for nothing more of knowledge or change). No seeking, no wondering or wandering, just peaceful acceptance.

It occurs to me that I have had times in my life like that, but I can’t get back to it. I’ve turned some unknown corner and it unleashed my imagination in new ways, and I can’t get it to go back. Don’t really want to.

Probably this won’t make sense to anyone but me but that’s okay. Just journaling the thoughts out. Word vomit.

Now back to the dailiness of trying to figure out what’s for dinner. The universe can wait.

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Melancholy Day

Daily blog. Nearing the middle of May and our lockdown that was initially going to be for 14 days is now around, what, forty-something? And no answers in sight, only a lot of supposition, misinformation, and scrambling… by and large anyway.

Watching so much TV. But everything I do is from home and has been for some time and I’ve put the TV on for company for years, but still… even more. Distraction. But it’s shows, not news.

It’s true what I’ve read about how we tend to go along relatively well for a few days and then have a bad day or two. Up days and down days. A real-life roller coaster.

I do my best when I just focus on the day-to-day, Laundry. Dishes. Grocery lists. Making lists of things that need doing or that I want to do. Being creative helps so much. Exercise helps. Sunshine helps. And what keeps me the most calm is refusing to listen to the muck and junk going on out there. I listen to the news only once or twice a week from our local channel, occasionally watching when our Mayor is on TV. There’s an absolute Ocean of Crazy out there and I don’t intend to drown in it.

Stress is real and it is a killer.

So grateful for my husband (that I’m not entirely alone, as some are). I’m beginning to understand why people do the things they do a bit better, the utter madness, the things we grasp at… the ways we cope. And I can be a judgy asshole, I freely admit it. This is teaching me how NOT to be one, not quite so much. Being stretched in that direction, anyway.

I may never truly understand the perspective of some others but must then also accept that they may never get mine, either. Trying to have love and compassion as my fall-back position. It’s not always easy. Maybe especially for someone like me.

Also grateful that I have a nice home and some outdoor space where I can still be a good distance from others. Grateful that as many, many others have to continue to go out into the world to work, I am able to stay home. I know many have lost their incomes entirely. It could happen to any of us at any time.

Talking to a good friend and neighbor yesterday was good for me (and her, I think). To hear another human’s voice besides mine and my husband’s. And I get to speak with or Skype with family occasionally. 

I’ve come to realize that I’ve been working so hard on myself, to get myself together, figure out exactly who I am and what I can and do believe, that I’ve utterly isolated myself from most other people and I was doing this long before lockdown. Perhaps for years. It’s a trap we introverts can easily fall into.

I’m going to endeavor, especially once we can get out and around again safely, to socialize more, be more open to friendship and to allow people to be who they are. I think I’m ready. I’m ready to be around those very different from myself and still be able to love and embrace them. At least I think I am. I think I will be by the time we are “released” from this nightmare. Realizing that I will still be “too much” or “too different” for some. (Always have been, always will be. I’ve accepted it.) But for me… I WILL be open to more. (And it will be an act of pure WILL.)

Facing yet another day in isolation and here in solidarity with the rest of you also doing so…

Peace Out