Some days

by Fakelvis on Flickr, CC: attribution, share alike

by Fakelvis on Flickr, CC: attribution, share alike

I’m hard up against an internal wall today. As someone who suffers from rapid-cycling bipolar disorder on the lighter end of the mood disorder scale (read that, ‘highly functioning’), I find myself stuck. Inertia has me and has me but good right now. I’m so unhappy with a 9 to 5, but there’s no option which is survivable outside of it.  It’s usually easier to be slightly manic in this kind of a job than to be slightly depressed.  The job seems to insist on mania.

I’m looking forward to moving to Canada. I’m looking forward to getting the books I’m writing done. Ideally, I’m looking forward to becoming a full time author and moving to Canada. I’d rather spend the entire day locked away in a give and take with my computer where there were no clients calling, no teammates to motivate, no projects to move through, just me and the page and when the page isn’t enough, iTunes and the Net to get the creative juices flowing.

Give me a lifestyle where I am bound by deadlines but not by schedules. Where I am beholden to my own efforts. Let me Create. It’s what I’ve been chasing forever, apparently. The ability to somehow have a studio or workshop of my own, where I write or make pottery or do digital design work, and just get left alone for weeks and months at a time. Up at whenever feels right, put in a full day at the book, at the wheel, at the easel, at photoshop, or whatever the medium happens to be. Make the work, hand it to someone else to worry about selling it, and then get back to work making more. Make enough money to keep a lifestyle similar to the one I’ve got now, but with much more time and far less stress.

That’s my dream. I don’t want to continue climbing the corporate ladder. I don’t want to take on more responsibility. I want a routine which allows me to punch a clock and get through it while I continue my personal efforts to get to my dream. Hell, I’ll even teach a class here and there for side income at local colleges or universities that need me to pick up a class now and then.

It’s time to stop spending so much energy on maintenance. I just keep getting depressed over and over again at having to get up and go to work every day like clockwork. I’m not opposed to the effort, I’m opposed to the senseless futility of it all. The lack of growth or real change. The lack of progress. The overall concern with greed.

It just weighs heavily on me sometimes. And today is one of those sometimes. Today, I keep looking at all of the minutiae which needs to get done and I keep wondering, why can’t I make myself care today? Why can’t I make all of these emails and all of these people make sense today? Inertia and despair, paralyzing me from the inside out. It’s tough to push through. Tougher still to know that this is just one cycle of these feelings, the latest, and that until I get myself into that position, I’m going to be absolutely miserable on a certain level, just in different phases of denial about it.

But the money’s got to come from somewhere. Connecticut is far too expensive, and the economy is far too shaky, to question the hand that feeds. So with agony I keep going, trying to be grateful for the job and all the positive I have, while still struggling to bring about a completely different lifestyle entirely.

And so it goes.

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2 Responses to “Some days”

  1. Ruth Says:

    Hey you.

    Yes, you.

    I’m listening. *Here*. This is yours to draw upon. It’s limitless, bottomless, patient, unquestioning.

    You don’t need to ask. Ever.

  2. Glenn (from NJ) Says:

    I’m with Ruth…

    And I’m only a few hours away by car, yanno.


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