“I have wanted to kill myself a hundred times, but somehow I am still in love with life. This ridiculous weakness is perhaps one of our more stupid melancholy propensities, for is there anything more stupid than to be eager to go on carrying a burden which one would gladly throw away, to loathe one’s very being and yet to hold it fast, to fondle the snake that devours us until it has eaten our hearts away?”
It was a comment of Daniel Bassill that set it off:
"I've followed Simon's posts for about half a year now and they are 'wide ranging'. Mine are more focused. If we have a problem, how do we solve it? Who needs to be involved?"
I thought about that term 'wide ranging.'
I felt downbeat at first:
"Daniel is right, wide-ranging, rambling,I should be more focused."
Then I thought back to an old school report.
"Simon clearly has his ups and downs." (or words to that effect)
Christ, every little thing makes me feel down beat at times.
It occurred to me that what for others appears 'wide ranging' is in fact for me focused.
I map mostly feeling.
I am at times all at sea.
And then I hit dry land.
If I have a problem, I attempt to solve it.
When it remains unsoluble, I find that difficult to accept.
It gets me down, unreasonably.
Being alternatively sensitive and insensitive is a fierce mixture.
If I feel, I attempt to write for better and for worse.
Writing keeps me grounded.
I write to thrive or to survive.
Sometimes when I am not writing I am barely surviving.
Sometimes when I am not writing I am absolutely thriving.
Sometimes I thrive and barely survive the same day.
I try to figure out who doesn't need to be involved.
If I am feeling my way around in the dark, this place can be a last resort.
I was a humourless wreck in the early hours.
I struggled to keep afloat.
Beating about the bush.
I struggled to keep afloat.
Yesterday afternoon:
I couldn't have been more focused.
Seasonal Amnesia.
I couldn't have been more focused.
I was wrighting my ship.
I was digging for good humour to keep me going.
The amnesia wasn't a joke.
To fight it I found humour.
There was no other path forward.
There was no other path forward.
Kevin helped me lighten up.
Tania helped me lighten up.
Terry helped me lighten up.
If there is any sense in this 'digital half-life existence' it is you, a company of full-life friends.
You pull me back up.
There are times when I am too deep under.
I am sorry. I go away and find a hole for shelter.
I thought back to Daniel's comment.
I remembered the work that I had done.
I remembered the grief that drags me down.
I remembered the priority that I be well.
It was that which Daniel's comment brought me.
I shall attempt to row less and sail more, to wait for a fair breeze, to batten down the hatches when the storms unfurl.
I yearn for calm.
Oh fuck it. Oh shut it.
Surf your waves of sarcasm Simon.
I sit down and listen.
Let the others take out their oars.
My youngest daughter is reading a favourite book.
"Peace at last."
Nothing else matters.
