To say I'm feeling enigmatic is a bit of an understatement. I'm simply trying to get my place in the world right now and, as usual, having little luck. The past couple of days, I've woken up at 4 and 5 in the afternoon, respectively. I look at my friends and my family and people I am simply acquaintances with, and they all seem to have their shit figured out a lot better than I do. Then again, it's 4:10 am as I'm starting to write this, so I wonder why that is?
I would like to say I'm a "functional" alcoholic, but there's a lot of shit I just don't do. For example, mornings. If I'm awake in the morning, I trudge. I have some arbitrary rule for myself that I don't drink until it's after noon. Not that I reach for a glass as soon as it is - don't get me wrong - sometimes I purposefully wait until some time in the afternoon in order to be able to time approximately when I'll go to sleep and when I'll wake up. Granted, I don't think that's just the alcohol talking. I really hate mornings regardless of what state I'm in. I think maybe that's another reason I like winter so much - less sun is good.
I do have a bit of a confession to make, and I hate that I'm making it here instead of just being honest with people - I quit my job back in July. As to why.. well.. I was on the verge of heat stroke most days, even though I was sitting on my ass in front of a fan. Heat and me just do not agree - and I couldn't really deal with the fact that the thing I was hired for - reorganizing the system for maintenance - wasn't being followed. So I guess it was my pride and worry about dealing with potentially passing out at work that made me quit.
However, this seems rather convoluted, so I will try to narrow down what I'm trying to get at with this.
I feel like a complete fuck-up. I know none of what I said before really mirrored that last sentence, I think, but it's true. Here I am, 33 years old, no job, married thankfully, but I don't keep up with my house husbandry like I should.. I'm at the point in my life where I should have a good, solid job, maybe a couple kids, 401k and all that stuff. But the truth is, I really don't feel any more secure about my future than when I was a teenager, aside from the marriage bit. That's really the only part of my life I feel any success about.
I think about.. jobs and working and such, and really, I have no problem working. I just have a problem with what work environment my particular skills enable me to get. I know I could have tried harder in college, but hindsight is 20/20. No matter where I end up, I always think "I'm smarter than this.." and.. yeah, that's a problem, but it's also the truth. I -am- smarter than the jobs I've ended up in. Even this last one I was in - I think it was the most intellectually challenging job I've had, but not simply because of the nature of the job - it was more challenging because of how I had to translate what people were saying and asking for to what they were actually saying and asking for. And honestly? If I were in a climate-controlled environment (thankfully free of wasps), and they actually used and paid attention to the system I laid out.. it wouldn't be so bad. Much as I fucking hate Kentucky, if I had those two things, I think I could have made a career of it.
That's the funny thing though. Even this old, I don't know where my "career" is going to be. I like to think I'm still a writer, but I've regressed on that so horribly, I have to laugh at myself at the idea. I get the old stereotype of writers being alcoholics, yeah, but I'm not a writer BECAUSE I'm an alcoholic, it's kind of the reverse. See, even if you don't agree with my habit of being drunk as fuck whenever possible, it still helps the writing process by about three metric fucktons. At least for me - I know not all writers work that way.
That being said - I really don't know where I'm supposed to go from here. And that is a common, recurring problem. I understand I'm smart, and I have no qualms saying so, but.. at the same time, if I'm so smart, shouldn't I have figured this out by now?
I just feel like I'm waiting for something. I don't know what.. but something. Nothing divine, obviously, as I'm not looking for God to point out what I need to do, but.. something, nonetheless. I wish I had the knowledge and werewithall to be able to answer everything myself, but I can't even make it a day without looking to answers from my favorite source. While said source does help with my anxiety and dysthymia, it's no excuse, and I know that - to get to the point where I'm actually healthy and not just self-medicating is a bridge I know I have to cross, but I'm looking at said bridge and criticising the supports, and not even looking at the other side.
I don't know what I wanted to accomplish by writing this other than some cathartic thing that writing does for me. I just wish it was MORE cathartic, that I'd get over myself and swing into whatever was next for me without worrying - but I know in the back of my head, I've always got to worry about the social anxiety and dysthymia, so I don't think I will ever be Tarzan. No swinging for me. Just.. being as I am until my almost petrified brain figures it out and I go do something about it.
I would like to say I'm a "functional" alcoholic, but there's a lot of shit I just don't do. For example, mornings. If I'm awake in the morning, I trudge. I have some arbitrary rule for myself that I don't drink until it's after noon. Not that I reach for a glass as soon as it is - don't get me wrong - sometimes I purposefully wait until some time in the afternoon in order to be able to time approximately when I'll go to sleep and when I'll wake up. Granted, I don't think that's just the alcohol talking. I really hate mornings regardless of what state I'm in. I think maybe that's another reason I like winter so much - less sun is good.
I do have a bit of a confession to make, and I hate that I'm making it here instead of just being honest with people - I quit my job back in July. As to why.. well.. I was on the verge of heat stroke most days, even though I was sitting on my ass in front of a fan. Heat and me just do not agree - and I couldn't really deal with the fact that the thing I was hired for - reorganizing the system for maintenance - wasn't being followed. So I guess it was my pride and worry about dealing with potentially passing out at work that made me quit.
However, this seems rather convoluted, so I will try to narrow down what I'm trying to get at with this.
I feel like a complete fuck-up. I know none of what I said before really mirrored that last sentence, I think, but it's true. Here I am, 33 years old, no job, married thankfully, but I don't keep up with my house husbandry like I should.. I'm at the point in my life where I should have a good, solid job, maybe a couple kids, 401k and all that stuff. But the truth is, I really don't feel any more secure about my future than when I was a teenager, aside from the marriage bit. That's really the only part of my life I feel any success about.
I think about.. jobs and working and such, and really, I have no problem working. I just have a problem with what work environment my particular skills enable me to get. I know I could have tried harder in college, but hindsight is 20/20. No matter where I end up, I always think "I'm smarter than this.." and.. yeah, that's a problem, but it's also the truth. I -am- smarter than the jobs I've ended up in. Even this last one I was in - I think it was the most intellectually challenging job I've had, but not simply because of the nature of the job - it was more challenging because of how I had to translate what people were saying and asking for to what they were actually saying and asking for. And honestly? If I were in a climate-controlled environment (thankfully free of wasps), and they actually used and paid attention to the system I laid out.. it wouldn't be so bad. Much as I fucking hate Kentucky, if I had those two things, I think I could have made a career of it.
That's the funny thing though. Even this old, I don't know where my "career" is going to be. I like to think I'm still a writer, but I've regressed on that so horribly, I have to laugh at myself at the idea. I get the old stereotype of writers being alcoholics, yeah, but I'm not a writer BECAUSE I'm an alcoholic, it's kind of the reverse. See, even if you don't agree with my habit of being drunk as fuck whenever possible, it still helps the writing process by about three metric fucktons. At least for me - I know not all writers work that way.
That being said - I really don't know where I'm supposed to go from here. And that is a common, recurring problem. I understand I'm smart, and I have no qualms saying so, but.. at the same time, if I'm so smart, shouldn't I have figured this out by now?
I just feel like I'm waiting for something. I don't know what.. but something. Nothing divine, obviously, as I'm not looking for God to point out what I need to do, but.. something, nonetheless. I wish I had the knowledge and werewithall to be able to answer everything myself, but I can't even make it a day without looking to answers from my favorite source. While said source does help with my anxiety and dysthymia, it's no excuse, and I know that - to get to the point where I'm actually healthy and not just self-medicating is a bridge I know I have to cross, but I'm looking at said bridge and criticising the supports, and not even looking at the other side.
I don't know what I wanted to accomplish by writing this other than some cathartic thing that writing does for me. I just wish it was MORE cathartic, that I'd get over myself and swing into whatever was next for me without worrying - but I know in the back of my head, I've always got to worry about the social anxiety and dysthymia, so I don't think I will ever be Tarzan. No swinging for me. Just.. being as I am until my almost petrified brain figures it out and I go do something about it.