Goofy, huh?
Thanks, everyone, for the very kind notes regarding my last entry. It's soothing to know I am not alone in thinking I need to re-prioritize my life, even if that leads to the sad realization that other people out there are as frustrated as I am.
No one should have to be that frustrated.
The thought I had was reasonable, and I'd been heading towards it for some time, but it still hit like a damn ton of bricks. Have you ever had that happen? You have a series of small thoughts leading up to a great big thought, but the great big thought is so profound you can't imagine how you got to it? Well, I suspect that's not so unusual, either . . .
I'm tempted to change the name of this diary back to "Welcome to the War." I feel an imperative to fix my life, and I feel the very strong pull of "safe and sound." Having been virtually homeless on more than one occasion, arguing with inanimate objects, "safe and sound" is VERY attractive to me.
Of course, "safe and sound" is also VERY different from "happy."
There's a term my therapists and psychiatrists toss around when discussing me: "High functioning." Simply put, I have a firmer grasp on reality than most psychotics. Fair enough. On good days, it's a sort of badge of honor I wear.
On bad days, however, it means I understand my current life and situation enough to know it doesn't make me happy. I know I'm capable of BETTER, and I know lifting boxes is simple and soothing in many ways, but it's not the life for me.
Please note: I'm not complaining about my friends. I'm complaining about my job situation, and the things I do (or, more specifically, DON'T do) for fun.
Never mind my poor pay (that's a rampant problem in many, many industries in the US, and I just need to accept what I can get). What I'm talking about is the QUALITY of my life, the ability to do MORE, to make a difference, and to pursue interests that make a difference to me.
I never thought I'd get to this point. Not that long ago, I was quite sure there was nothing in life I personally wanted to do. I felt the only thing I was here to do was survive as best I could and hopefully brighten the day a little for those around me. Needs? Personal desires? Not me . . .
Times change. Was it "Maslow's 'Hierarchy of Needs'" that said that our needs and desires become more complex as the more basic needs and desires are met? I might have the guy's name wrong . . . nope, it's right. If I was wrong, you'd never know. I'd just change it. ;)
Anyway, I think I have a certain degree of my most basic needs met (for a change), and I'm moving on to the more complex ones. A short while ago came my first non-joking reference to my lack of "sexual intimacy," which is higher on the list than things like food and shelter. Food and shelter, of course, I've discussed a frustration with several times. Now, they seem pretty reliable, and . . . well, now I'm a "lonely, crazy pervert" instead of a "homeless, crazy man."
I'm even skipping a few steps, and going straight for "self-esteem," and "respect of others," and I'm even eying the pinnacle: "aesthetic needs."
What the hell is happening to me? I'm all over the place emotionally, and I fear collapse. Hope is creeping into my life, and I'm scared I don't have to courage to continue to dream hopefully . . .
Yeah, my emotions have been wildly fluctuating these past few days. I've gotta figure out how to speak to humans again. Talk to you sssssexy voyeurs and voyeurettes later . . .