Have you ever just been sad? Today, I am.
I sense the haunting of a quiet grief. A hollow desire wandering through my mind. I’m making myself write because, when this malaise arrives, it attempts to devour everything I love and replace the emptiness with some sort of counterfeit peace.… or should I say piece?..as in a nice, big emotional piece of chocolate cake….and then another…followed by a quesadilla washed down with a few beers and a couple of shots of JD Fire.
I know, in my heart, I want to write. And so I am. But it feels like I’m just littering words on the page. A retrospective look at my life would reveal this pallid companion knocks on my heart’s door intermittently…mostly when I’m tired or unmotivated. Today, I’m tired.
How do you write tired? Not tiredly…that’s what I”m doing now. But…tired…how do you express its substance without the writing sounding fatigued. My impulse is to stream a vague prayer of formal-sounding words into a wave of nonsensical complexity in an effort to mask the scant brain activity present at the keyboard. (I was just going to delete this whole last part…but, whatever)
Part of the problem is that I really have no friends. (I know, TMI) I have a job where I offer…um, advice. I hate to say guidance or counseling because I don’t want the responsibility. Nothing wrong with trying to encourage people out of…well, this cloud I’m under. But, when I go down, I go down alone. Ha. Irony?
Don’t get me wrong, I have people around me that I cherish, love, encourage. But, I never felt understood…and before you say that is an unrealistic expectation, I tell you, I have been “understood” by a couple of people in my life. Circumstance has forced the dreaded “separate ways” upon those folks and me, but I remember that “it” exists. It’s probably just me. I’m not sure how to let people into my heart and mind. And when I do try…they just get a confused, glazed-over look in their eyes. So, I wind up talking about what’s on their mind…which is comfortable for me, because it’s what I do. Anyway…
Ya know what, I’m starting to feel better. No, honestly. This writing thing helps. : )
I’m an optimistic/cynic at heart. I want to see human complications clearly and still embrace life.
Grace under Pressure.
I hope that a future retrospective of my life will reveal, that I didn’t always share Grace perfectly, but that my behaviors were at least trending in a positive direction…. even if nobody understood it except me.
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