Back when I was a salesman and young and with no real direction or idea as to what I wanted for myself, the bad days were hard and the hard days were unbearable to say the least.
An older friend of mine used to tell me, “just keep plugging, kid!”
In fairness, hated my job. I hated my life.
I hated that I had no direction and I hated that everything seemed like a dead-end or something was always pending.
Life has changed since then.
At the same time, life has not changed all that much.
I often think about a line, which came from the timeless brilliance of my favorite cartoon character Bugs Bunny.
“Is this trip really necessary?”
And I wonder.
Is all of this going to be worth it in the end?
Is the juice worth the squeeze?
Or wait . . .
What am I working for and better yet, what am I fighting for?
I know that I can’t quit.
I know that in the end, I have to get up more times than I’ve been knocked down.
And that in itself is a success.
No matter who is on my side or who plots against me; if i go down and stay down, then I lose more than just the fight.
At least, to me – this is how I choose to see things.
I find myself like much of the rest of the world. I am up early and out the door. I have bills to pay and taxes to deal with. I have payments that are otherwise unavoidable and yes, there are times when the money is good.
But then there are the other times, which is like now.
Money is not what it used to be . . .
Either way, I am up at the same hour, every morning. And yes, I’m happy that I never quit my day job when my income was better.
I make my way to a train because in the end, I work or a living and as I go, be, and do what it takes to get through my day, I try my best to make sense of all that goes on around me.
I am a simple man with complications like anyone else. I have my own mild to moderate intimidations and it could be argued that some of my intimidations are moderate to severe.
I live with anxiety and depression, which has been a lifelong thing.
I refuse to say that I suffer from depression or that I suffer from social anxiety disorder.
I live with these things.
Therefore, i refuse to suffer because to me, suffering is defeating and as hard as the times may be; I refuse to let myself succumb to such a loss or be beaten beyond repair.
I have been “me” for as long as I can remember. This is obvious and true.
I have been dealing with one thing or another for as long as I can recall.
I know what trauma is.
I know why we have fears and I know why I am afraid of the dark or afraid of the unknown.
I understand what it means to flinch in fear from both a physical and emotional perspective.
I have been living with this since my early childhood.
I survived myself more than once.
I survived the worst attempts that any person could put themselves through and still; somehow, I am still here.
I have not “gone gentle into that good night.”
I balked and paused and I’ve taken more damage than I wanted to.
I’ve bled enough.
I have aches and pains too.
But when the alarm rings, I get up.
I shower.
I wash myself and brush my teeth.
I take my daily doses to keep my health in check.
I sip my gulps of coffee to prepare for what I call, “my day,” and then I exit the stage and prepare to for my position at work.
My life is evolving.
Of course, the process of everyday life leads us to evolve from one stage to the next. Or as I see it, we go from grade school to middle school, to high school and whether we go to a traditional college and graduate with paper degrees or not, the bottom line is class is always in session.
The teachers and the professors change.
The principal’s office changes too.
But there is always someone we have to answer to.
There will always be “something” going on and while I agree that the challenges from my twenties are not the same as my ones in my thirties and forties, my fifties are all-encompassing now.
I see this clearly.
I see the mixtures of old fears and new ones.
I see the results of nervous thinking, which led me to nervous decisions that followed me with nervous outcomes.
And I get it.
No one wants to fail.
No one wants to be wrong.
No one wants to have to fight and work and slave.
We all want peace.
At least, I know I do.
I want more.
Absolutely.
I go back to the questio:
Is this trip really necessary?
I ask this all the time.
I ask myself when I start a new project at work.
Is this worth it?
I question the worth and the value of my work and I often wonder who notices and if anyone cares.
At the same time, work is intended to be unemotional.
Work is work.
There are tasks that need to be completed.
And that’s all there is.
I have to stand with the stoic and realize the freedom which comes when we disconnect from passion and think logically instead of emotionally.
Some days are easier and some days are far more rewarding than others.
Some days I find that the culture is good and productive; and some days, I look around at my environment and I remember a famous line that was told to me.
No one cares.
Work Harder.
This applies to more than just my work life.
This applies to my physical and emotional life.
I cannot agree that “no one cares,” but in the end, there is only one face looking back at me in the mirror at the end of the day.
And that face belongs to me.
My face . . .
My Life . . .
My story . . .
No one is coming to save me.
No one is coming to pay my bills or to straighten out my history.
No one sees what I see and no one feels from my touch or hears from my ears.
I know this.
No one cares
Work harder.
I get this now.
I get this in more ways than one.
Plans fall through and life does not always work the way we want them to.
Life has a way of falling short of what we hoped.
But in the end, I have to realize the following:
no one is coming to save you.
No one can stop the momentum of time.
No one cares the way YOU care.
So work harder.
As for the question if this trip is really necessary; I suppose everything is necessary.
Life is not made to be easy and the toughest lessons are the toughest lessons for a reason.
I remember a song by Edie Brickell when she sang “everything is temporary anyway.”
I have to remember this.
The name of the song is called Circle, which has a history and different meanings to me for different reasons.
Then again this is a song from my youth, which has graduated with me throughout the years and so, the song is one that randomly comes up at certain times.
(like now, for example)
This is poignant, I suppose, and meaningful.
But then again, this is what music is for.
This is what happens when art creates a production that reaches us and speaks to the soul.
Is this trip really necessary?
I asked myself this more times than I can count.
I asked this more now after the major changes in my life.
I’ve asked myself the question “if I knew this would be the outcome, would I have even bothered in the beginning?”
I suppose the answer is yes.
I suppose I had to try.
I had to reach for the stars, even though I knew the stars were too far to reach.
I had to “go for it,” because sometimes, the stars are meant for more than just gazing. Sometimes we forget how the shooting stars we see happened light years ago; only, we are just seeing the flash now because time and space are far and endless.
It took centturies for us to see the flash.
My dreams are this way too, far apart and endless, just like the galaxy and just like the constellations, just like Andromeda, The North Star, and all the vast galactic mysteries which are infinite and untouchable to me.
I had to try . . .
“Circle”
I think the song fits my mood perfectly.
“I quit.
I give up.
Nothing’s good enough for anybody else . . .
. . . it seems.”
That’s how the song goes and yes, this is how life goes
(sometimes)
I suppose the line that catches me most from the song is when Edie Brickell sings, “When I’m by myself, nobody else can say goodbye.”
I get that . . .
Is this trip really necessary?
I liked to hope so.
I’d like to believe that in the end, I will cross the threshold of some new and beautiful existence.
I will gladly and peacefully lay down my weapons of self-destruction and let go of the unwanted casualties, which only plague us because we hold them so tightly and dearly.
I know this is all necessary.
I know I have made my share of wrong turns.
I know all about making mistakes because mistakes and I am very close with one another.
But in the end . . .
No one cares
Work harder
Keep going.
Keep plugging.
And this is all I plan to do
(just for today)
The Written Addiction 