I don’t know if it is the changing of the weather, or because I am exhausted from the constant grind of work, home, work, home, but I haven’t been feeling all that cheerful lately. In fact, I have been kind of bleak and pessimistic, which is very out of character for me usually.
My Dad came for a visit, but his health was really bad. He seemed to be constantly unable to breathe, and my guess is that my house, with the cats and dogs, didn’t help much.
Rebekkah and I smoked outside of course, but he still was struggling enough to have to be taken to the hospital up here. It is hard to see my Dad, once the arm-wrestling champion of the State of Texas, brought low by a weary, semi-patched up heart, puppy saliva and cat dander. It was like the cherry on top of this crap- flavored sundae that is my life lately.
The Blue House tried to kill my father, but he narrowly escaped back to Austin. It is painfully clear to me, Dad can’t be making this trip here anymore. That makes me even more depressed.
Shockingly, I really do not have more problems now than I ever have before. I actually have less problems, so the heaviness I feel makes no sense to me. I make more money; we have a house with a yard for the dogs; I work at a job I really like doing; I’ve been reconnecting with family I thought were forever lost to me… Since the separation in August 2012, I’ve had much, much worse stuff to deal with. So, what’s up with this anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach?
It took me a few days, but I think I figured it out.
Each step of the way, my marriage’s slow death sucked. And I do mean, S.U.C.K.E.D.
Nothing really delivers a punch to the proverbial balls of life like being betrayed by someone you trusted. Time seems to just stop, and not a single second of it isn’t washed with tears. So much grief, and it seems at the time that it will be your constant companion until you die. I genuinely despised every miserable second of those two years it took me to stop loving Chef.
Now I have found a fresh, new stage I wasn’t expecting.
I am experiencing an uncomfortable feeling of waiting in my life lately. I don’t really even know what it is I’m waiting for, but my slight depression seems to be in part due to the lack of clarity I have now about my future. Chef and I had plans for when the last kid left home. We had a large settlement coming in, and the money had been earmarked for a restaurant for Chef, travel, and other things we had hoped for. We were going to enjoy growing old and wrinkled and all-dementia-ed out together.
They may not seem very original, or even very big dreams, but they were real to me. They were hard to let die. And now I see, they pointed my life in a direction back then… a destination far in the distance…, and now, I am coasting through life like a rudderless ship, fully aware of the time I am wasting, and yet forever waiting, waiting, waiting. I can’t make out a destination in distance, nor do I have a clue which direction I’m traveling in.
I wish I knew what in the world it is I seem to be waiting for?? Love? Money? Fame? A new adventure? I simply do not know.
Hopefully, by pulling these thoughts out of my head and on to my blog, I can figure out how to short-circuit this depression. How do people stand feeling like this?