Unfixable...is good

To start my foray back into blogging I’ve been reaching back for the first few posts in that many of these I wrote before I had the idea to blog. This piece being a very candid example of one. I had been going through it. Sept. 2017 was by far the worst month of that year, if not the past couple years. But like most of my depressed, pain consumed moments the only thing I had to turn to was writing. I may have rambled a little at times during but I bring it home with some clarity and it ends up being kinda funny…to me at least.

Unfixable

Yesterday was…smh.

I experienced a feeling I’ve had countless times throughout my life. Disappointment.

But this time was different. It was more lucid, more honest.

Here’s the condensed version of what sparked the disappointment. Yay!

I’ve been in a 3 week long haze of self hatred, pizza binging, spotty joy and unreliable focus. So much so that I was compelled to take a personal day from work the day before…which I never do. It was the boost of empowerment that I needed. Saying to myself, “I don’t wanna go to work, fuck that place!” was the reminder that I needed that I can move because stuck is a state of mind. Yay!

I cleaned my horridly messy place, put on massage room music and vowed to meditate all day. All that good shit. I woke yesterday feeling this: “I am not trapped, I have a way out”. I ended the day feeling this: “There is no way out, trying is for dumbasses and liars. Fuck this bullshit”. And that was the disappointment

Mmm...Life.

Here’s why all this was good. The epiphany was that I have perfected the art of “trying” which is just short bursts of “doing”. The outcome of my “trying” is usually me being met with a gut punch or a wall that says, “Fuck your effort”. Now, of course, life itself isn’t to be blamed. It by nature is a shitstorm of emotional buzz words like happy, sad, joy, pain, hard, easy and optimistic expectations that damn us but in actuality it just...IS. Trying is the worst thing ever. We suck at it and that will never change. But we can BE.

“Being” transforms you into a sort of polyamourous blob of “Fuck It”. You can take it all, everything life is, and not be jealous of your “expected self” when life gives you the shaft…Which it definitely will. You aren’t exactly cold and unfeeling though; you just aren’t an overly moralistic, entitled D-Bag. You are as intimate with happy as you are with sad. It’s Perfect!

Let me be clear too…not trying does not mean giving up. It’s more so not expecting something that will never happen (I.E. life getting easier, not being challenged, the total elimination of pain). You, in essence, surrender to the inevitable truth that in the life process of trying and getting gut punched/hitting walls/disappointment the latter elements are not the flawed part.