Here I will focus the writing on poetry and commentary.

I’m going to dig deep. Please do not be alarmed. This is a journal, an essay.

I’m discovering lately that I walk around sad quite a bit. My days are spent just trying to get through what I have inherited, a quiet and aging life. I am not feeling sorry for myself. I wonder how long I can live this way without going out of my mind. I walk around with a mild case of let down and it doesn’t really grow, but it doesn’t go away. The feeling amounts to me wishing that God would pull the plug and let me pass gracefully. I could never openly take my life because I will not leave a mess for my kids. Natural causes would be best. Nothing is forever and people do pass unexpectedly. I do often wish that for myself. 

As morbid as that sounds I wonder if other people go through it. I don’t want to be alone with it, I want to know other people resonate, that way I won’t feel crazy for the feelings I carry around with me. I don’t wish pain upon anyone, I just want to understand my feelings more than I do. I know I have a diagnosis with depression, so that part does not come with surprise. What is bothersome is that it comes out of nowhere, but as impulse driven that sounds, it’s always with me, that feeling of self surrender.

I think I have lived with this all my life. I’m actually sure I have when I reflect upon different parts of life. It has been a long time, and now I’m in my 60’s recognizing that through it all I have managed to keep going forward. I have a lot of positives to keep in mind. I think about those moments, and I try to allow myself to feel good about my accomplishments. It is easy to get wrapped up in forgetting all of the good in our lives.

So how do I weave my way through all of this personal turmoil? I keep myself busy. I have a beautiful dog that fills a lot of my time. She is wonderful and we spend our days together. I try not to leave her alone for more than six hours and that is only a few days a week. I drive for LYFT and that fills a lot of my void. I enjoy the conversations I have with people. I don’t force conversation upon anyone. A quiet drive with music is just as enjoyable. Along with that I find myself doing this – journaling. The majority of my writing is poetry. Occasionally I carve out an essay but it takes time, sometimes it is exhausting. I also maintain a healthy social life. My preoccupations have changed dramatically over the last five years. I feel I can more readily write about this with a better perspective.

Where do I go from here? I keep pushing forward, counting on the experiences in my life that help me feel more fulfilled. I want to be able to write about those things that bring me down, and then couple that story with a testament of finding peace. As I said at the beginning I have to remain cognizant of my thinking and how it impacts me day to day. 

I have a support system that I count on and am an advocate for people finding that resource they can that helps them stem the flow with their own personal anxiety. It is part of the human condition, perhaps human nature that might take us down that rabbit hole and leave us envious of people that can avoid such outcomes. Being human is all we can be, the key is finding comfort in our lives. That comfort comes with confidence and faith. I do have both in my life. I do wish the same for all of you – thank you for the read.

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