At what point do you throw your hands in the air and admit defeat? How many walls do you have to slam your head into before you say, “It’s all too hard?” How many times does the rug have to be pulled from under your feet before you walk away from a dream?
In this “City of Opportunity” it seems the opportunities are all too few.
Too qualified. Not qualified enough. Too soon. Too late. Not enough experience. Too much experience. Not well enough connected. Too ‘alien’.
A roller-coaster day of possibilities, slammed into oblivion one-by-one. The result is a feeling of deflation, exhaustion, loneliness, and incompetence. The energy required to pick myself up, and dust myself off is lacking. The buffeting waves of optimism followed by decimation has left me drowning in self-doubt. When will I ever reach the calm shores of contentment and usefulness? Is it even possible?
As I sit here trying to discern rational from irrational, real from delusion, truth from falsehoods, I find myself sinking deeper into a pit of confusion. I’m not sure what to do, where to go, who to see, and yet, all the while my dream is disintegrating before my eyes. Years of work seem to have evaporated and mean nothing. My direction, once marked by a line of bright checkpoints has been eradicated – sabotaged? I’m back in the dark with no purpose, no meaning, no reason, and no desire.
If this is not the path I should be on, where exactly should I be? If everything that led me here has guided me to the wrong place, where did I lose direction? See, even my belief in ‘what’s meant to be will be’ has deserted me, and left me wondering at my abandonment – what did I do wrong?
Sit and connect - man, how many times have I heard that advice, given it to others? Why is it not working?
Constrained and restrained, that’s how I would describe how I feel when I try to ‘sit and connect’. Tied down. Buried alive. Suffocating.
Even if I had the desire to fight and gasp for air, I don’t think it’s going to help much. Besides, is there much point? Perhaps it is better to medicate, take the edge off, dull the ‘reality’ to a manageable blur and become a malleable being, easily directed by others to achieve their own, unknown ends?
Perhaps… yes, perhaps it is better to be in a drug-induced obedience, happy to just float along, without purpose or direction. Perhaps that is what has led me to where I am?
So, the problems are not resolved – can they be? Regardless, it is best to bury them deep, reconstruct the big black box, and put on the mask of conformity and existence. We won’t speak of these matters again… No, it’s best not to. To say anything to anyone will lead to platitudes and clichés – “you’ll be right, mate,” “tomorrow’s another day,” “plenty more fish in the sea,” “don’t be silly,” “just get on with it.”
The others are coming. It’s time for tea. Buck up, stiff upper lip, and all that jazz. No one wants to be around a sour puss with a long face.
I’d best get going then, sorry to be a pain and pour all my craziness onto you. Forget I said anything, it’s all pretty stupid anyway, right. Very sorry, but I do have to run…