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deep in the rut While it is true I have a decent routine going, it seems fair to say it’s getting me nowhere. I’m not wasting my days and nights by simply existing and surviving - by literally doing nothing - but the things I make certain to accomplish every single day are just another version or level of survival. I exist to do what I did today, tomorrow, but there’s no sign it’s going to get any better, that my life is going to get any fuller or more rewarding. Whatever’s happening seems to point towards things getting worse before they get better. Maybe I’ve said this before, but I know that doing the same thing while expecting different results is the definition of insanity. My problem is that no matter how creative I get, no matter how far out of the box I think or act, the options available to me simply aren’t acceptable. It’s not that I’m above certain kinds of work, and in fact desperation may find me more willing than I am now, but I place too much value on myself to allow others to take advantage. That sort of stubborn attitude is partially why I am in the situation I find myself in today, so changing it would make sense, but I’m not yet prepared to do so. If I’m to take a job for the lowest possible wage, I need to feel there is some other value, perk or advantage in the position to make up for it. It’s a fine line I am walking, and soon I may have no choice but to choose another way to tread. My mental health is always at the forefront of my concerns and decision making. You might not understand this, but living the life of a homeless person might actually be better for my brain than the typical grind that most of you seem to handle with nothing more than an occasional grumpy attitude. For me, holding most jobs would be the equivalent of putting myself through mental torture 5 / five days a week. It would be like sending a person with broken arms, who couldn’t lift 10 / ten pounds without experiencing pain, to lug 20 / twenty pounds boxes around for a full shift. The only difference is that the pain is in my brain, which most people still can’t seem to understand or empathize with. Mental disabilities aren’t visible like physical ones, so while a person with a healing leg limps along, it’s tougher to catch it when a broken brain misses a step. And when it does, it’s not just a limp, it’s often the equivalent of a stumble and fall. I’ll keep trying to move forward, with the belief that eventually something will work out slowly dissipating, to be replaced with doubt…  |
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