This year has been hard... like, really hard. It really didn't even start off great (except for the Chiefs winning the Super Bowl). With this stupid virus taking peoples parents and grandparents away from them, closing everything, losing jobs and completely destroying lives, Republicans and Democrats at each other's throats, police officers making mistakes, riots, protests, and general unrest, it's no wonder our (my) mental health is plummeting. Probably though, the hardest thing for me has been this unending feeling that something is missing. And look, I'm very fortunate, I have a roof over my head, food in the fridge, a beautiful wife, perfect kid, I drive a nice car (nicest I've ever owned anyway), and I was never laid off or had my job threatened during this stupid pandemic. I have it good. So why do I feel this way?
This feeling actually started creeping in this summer. I think at that time it was a combination of things. Maybe a mix of being tired of having to stay at home, and also seeing all those social media posts of people living it up at the lake or camping, whatever. I was probably feeling jealous, left out. Probably, but it started to morph into something I didn't recognize. It's deeper than jealousy or resentment. I know it's not that. I'm dealing with something that feels like a part of me is missing. Have you ever felt that? What is it? I've been thinking a lot about music lately. You know, I used to consider myself a musician? I have never been as talented as my brother or many of my friends, but I could create, I could sing. It was how I identified. But I haven't considered myself a musician in a long time, not even during the brief time that I played bass with The Coterie. I only ever felt like I was just fulfilling a role. I really hope those guys don't think I wasn't into it though. I absolutely loved playing in that band. I just wish I could have been as creative as I had been years ago. Back when I was writing song lyrics daily, and stumbling my way through crafting chord progressions. I wasn't that to The Coterie, and I kind of always thought they deserved better. I haven't really been reading as much as I used to either. Actually, let me rephrase that, I haven't been reading books as much as I used to. I've had an Audible account for years (ever since I started working at Angus) and I have around 75-85 books in my library. So, most of the "reading" I do is audio. However, I miss it. I miss getting lost in book stores - much to the dismay of my wife. I love the way getting a new book feels like the start of the school year when you're young. I love how different it is to handle a paperback and a hard back. I am one of those people who vehemently disagrees with folding down the corner of a book. I'm THAT guy! Anyway, I miss books. But I have a lot of them, so nothing is stopping me or keeping me from them. I don't know what it is. I'm angry all of the time (not outwardly). I'm bored. I'm sad about things I should just let go. I'm disconnected, which is horrible because I have a little girl to help raise. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix this. Who should I talk to? Is it enough just to put it out on the Internet that I'm a messed up turd. Who knows?
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AuthorI started blogging thinking that this is where I would review whatever media I felt like ranting about. It quickly changed direction. So this is my online diary. Comments are welcome. Archives
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