1AM Fears
1:08. I'm at work, with about three hours to go.
I am lonely, and I am scared.
I get on a plane today, and I go home. For the last 22 months in this place, I've grown...alone. Watching the first batch of good friends leave was too much for me, so I've kept everyone at arms length here. I've distanced myself from everything and everyone. I genuinely hide from people, either in my room or off post. I can't take this place anymore. It has sucked the spirit right out of me.
I was once loving, creative, and happy. Now love is hollow, creativity is forced and unappreciated, and happiness is an act of willful self-delusion.
I feel like a man with no home, no family, and no soul, because I am.
I don't have a clear vision anymore. My future scares me, because it seems full of more of the same.
Going home on leave is like putting a band-aid on slashed jugular. It's an aspirin for a bullethole. I'll see friends again, and maybe make new friends, and then leave them again. I can't live like this.
What meaning can my life have? The pursuit of the bottom line? That will leave me unsatisfied.
I need to be a part of a family again. I want the white picket fence dream. I want fireside glasses of wine and snuggling, Saturday morning cartoons, and Sunday afternoon fishing trips. I want my family. I want Boy Scout meetings and Parent Teacher Conferences. I want to wake up early and walk barefoot from the bedroom to the kitchen to make hot coffee and to set out breakfast for the kids so they can get ready for school, and I want to go to work and come home again.
How long could I do that before I was yearning for morning PT formations and --the work that I do--. Would I be satisfied with domestic life? My dad regrets settling down. He regrets that he didn't stay in politics and chase a bigger bottom line, a bigger footprint on the world as his legacy. He did settle down to the white picket fence dream, and it abandoned him. Now he is lonely, just like me. If he had stayed on the path of ambition, where might he have ended up? Equally lonely, I think, with more to be satisfied about but fewer happy memories.
I'm scared of the future.
I think that I will fail. I won't fail because of lack of ability, but I'll fail because the fear of failure and the lack of vision will keep me from ever trying. My bitter, paranoid pessimism will strangle me, like it did my mother.
"In the end, every living creature dies alone." --Donnie Darko
Family, or Career.
One thing is clear, and I'd like to put that in writing right now: Fuck you, Jeanna. I could've had both.
Peace, Y'all
Bluecor
I am lonely, and I am scared.
I get on a plane today, and I go home. For the last 22 months in this place, I've grown...alone. Watching the first batch of good friends leave was too much for me, so I've kept everyone at arms length here. I've distanced myself from everything and everyone. I genuinely hide from people, either in my room or off post. I can't take this place anymore. It has sucked the spirit right out of me.
I was once loving, creative, and happy. Now love is hollow, creativity is forced and unappreciated, and happiness is an act of willful self-delusion.
I feel like a man with no home, no family, and no soul, because I am.
I don't have a clear vision anymore. My future scares me, because it seems full of more of the same.
Going home on leave is like putting a band-aid on slashed jugular. It's an aspirin for a bullethole. I'll see friends again, and maybe make new friends, and then leave them again. I can't live like this.
What meaning can my life have? The pursuit of the bottom line? That will leave me unsatisfied.
I need to be a part of a family again. I want the white picket fence dream. I want fireside glasses of wine and snuggling, Saturday morning cartoons, and Sunday afternoon fishing trips. I want my family. I want Boy Scout meetings and Parent Teacher Conferences. I want to wake up early and walk barefoot from the bedroom to the kitchen to make hot coffee and to set out breakfast for the kids so they can get ready for school, and I want to go to work and come home again.
How long could I do that before I was yearning for morning PT formations and --the work that I do--. Would I be satisfied with domestic life? My dad regrets settling down. He regrets that he didn't stay in politics and chase a bigger bottom line, a bigger footprint on the world as his legacy. He did settle down to the white picket fence dream, and it abandoned him. Now he is lonely, just like me. If he had stayed on the path of ambition, where might he have ended up? Equally lonely, I think, with more to be satisfied about but fewer happy memories.
I'm scared of the future.
I think that I will fail. I won't fail because of lack of ability, but I'll fail because the fear of failure and the lack of vision will keep me from ever trying. My bitter, paranoid pessimism will strangle me, like it did my mother.
"In the end, every living creature dies alone." --Donnie Darko
Family, or Career.
One thing is clear, and I'd like to put that in writing right now: Fuck you, Jeanna. I could've had both.
Peace, Y'all
Bluecor