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STEADY

20 September 2015, 17:43

I look back on my life, and I only remember a few times where life went at a steady pace, even keeled, hardly any major ups and downs. There were troubles, there were bumps in the road, but I would that between 2000 and 2007 was the most uneventful years of my life. Me and mine had jobs, food, clothing and a bit of security, so much so, that in 2007, I dared to do the unthinkably normal and buy a house.

Then Ken died. And normal went out the door. So did security. So did a little of my sanity. Since then, it’s been a bucketful of insecurity and flying by the seat of my pants. It almost became a banal drone, the amount of crisis I would get into. Even now, I hate to even say something out loud or to anyone because it seems more of a constant complaining than the genuine cry from the situation. Since 2007, I’ve moved: Wichita, Forest Shitty, Fort Mill, Greenville, Piedmont, Williamston, Winnsboro, Camden, and Gaston. In 2012, I moved four times. The longest lasting job I had during this time was with Satan’s noodles. I’ve had two dogs die in a 5 year period, and that never happens to me. My set of four dogs lived 10-16 years each, before 2007, and now I am having pets passing after two or three years (a couple of cats, and a dog).

I’ve cried enormously and many, many times since 2010, and I never thought I could do that much weeping since Ken’s death. I’ve become a worrier, with a big dollop of paranoid when just in 2008, I was an adventurer, traveling across country to find a new life. I had pages and pages of blog documenting car incidents, life learnings, struggling with new territory, doing new things, loneliness, aloneness, singleness, togetherness, snakes in my house, no heat, no food, no money etc. etc to ad nauseum. I had a friend say “I wouldn’t have believe it, had it not happen to you.”

It’s all been a struggle to find equilibrium, and calm waters. For the most part, the last three years, hills and valleys have lessened. A year and a half ago, I was toying with the idea, that at long last everything may have found its level.

Never think that. Life will shit on you because of it.

And the more out of control my life has had become in the last 8 years, the more overboard I have gone in trying to control it.

I met the Doug. And he is many things that Ken wasn’t. He’s like the anti-Ken. He is emotional, impulsive, mercurial. He’s a lot of things that test me. He’s a ton more of things that I love. After five years. I love him dearly. I’ve become so protective of him, it’s almost overwhelming. I’ve become the adult mother figure I think, a little. Where Ken the quiet, inert, stoic father figure to my flibbertigibbet, I’ve switch roles with Doug. It’s like two bumblebees trying to fly in a straight line. Plus, when you have a person like that around, moods are never level. It’s a life of zeniths and basements.

Moving around has allowed me to skip that whole getting close to people thing. I have been able to keep not trusting others, not making the effort to get close, and not really wanting to. Invariably, that makes me a lonely person sometimes. It also makes for a strange empty fishbowl existence where there are not a lot of different perspectives, opinions or voices to counter all the crazy ones in my head. And when I do reach out, it makes me feel guilty that I am saddling someone with my burdens out of the blue. I can’t tell whether my troubles are actually unbearable or just par for the course. I can’t tell if its a constant stream or has it been just spurts of poopy. It takes me longer to come around to seeing reality, seeing the good things in my life, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. To be fair to me, I get so overwhelmed sometimes, and there’s only me to try and dig me out of the rabbit hole.

Unemployment has never been a foreign thing to me. I can’t for the life of me figure out how this has been such a hard thing for me to manage since I’ve moved to this part of the country. And its not like I CAN’T get a job. I get offers for interviews, and even offers of employment – from WAY THE FUCK AWAY from where I am. I am forever wanting to move closer to Atlanta/Augusta because at the very least, I’ll have more to at least apply for, more positions available, more fall back position available, more crappy survival jobs available. I’ve HAD companies want me to interview. I’ve HAD positions offered to me. One just three months ago – three and a half hours away. There was no way I could take it. We couldn’t move, because Doug has steadily gotten better jobs, so we tend to orbit around those. He doesn’t see it himself, because his constant thought is “Well, this is the best I’m ever going to do…” And well. It isn’t. He does better and better. So I have immense faith in what he’ll do and what he’s able to do.

I, on the other hand, can’t seem to get traction. I like to think its because of my location – its been hard in this area. But. That’s a fib of sorts. There has been a few offers or a few potential jobs that I COULD have gotten – I either blew them off or didn’t take them. I was, at the time aiming for a certain level of employment (now, the level is much lower). I like to think its my location, but there’s a nagging fear that I’m making an excuse. If I move closer to the better markets, will I still suck? And then I have no excuse, in why I’m unemployed. This is only a small nagging fear. Even I can’t deny that I have a goodly amount of skills and talent since even 2007. I’m very proud of how I have grown and ripened since my old Velocity/Nye days, how much better and smarter I’ve gotten. Still, I have the old neurosis that, during this valley times, have loud, booming voices.

This is only a bit of what I worry about. I worry constantly a lot of the time. I’m a control freak and a lot of the time, I’m fighting not to be some sort of monster to those around me. Right now is a perfect incubator for a nervous breakdown. I’m worried about Doug’s health and well being first and foremost, our financial situation, how long it will be before things get bad, and a truck ton of “what ifs” are darting in and out of my view and I can’t stop them. This is the soup that overwhelms me. This is the jar I’m trying to keep the lid on. This is the pressure that I can’t seem to contain.

And I end up crying in the parking lot of the Walmart, snotting into Doug’s golf towel and trying not to let the cart boy see me blubber.

I’ve had my rabbit hole moment the last couple of days, cumulating into something pretty ugly, but I’ve climbed out a bit in the last half day to see the sunshine again. I’m still having moments of giant waves of overwhelming panic – but its about three seconds of panic, my chest tightening and nausea – then it subsides. I’m not sure why I’m writing all this down. An apology to those I’ve burdened my troubles with the last couple of days? An explanation? Some cathartic prose to make me feel better? Some exercise that allows me to see how much I’m really feeling sorry for myself? I don’t know. Maybe its a cry for help. Maybe I should just shut the fuck up and go on with it. I really have no idea.

I think mainly an apology for those I’ve burdened with my bullshit in the last couple of days, plus a bit of an explanation of where my head’s at. Yeah. Okay. I’ll go with that.

Yeah. This really wasn’t all that funny, was it? Well They all can’t be gems.