The World is On Fire...But, Not Me
So, the world is falling apart, right? Earlier this week, I was pretty sure we were all gonna die in a nuclear holocaust. I mean...that could still happen. I guess that's always true, but it feels especially true when the leader of your country thinks that threatening lunatics on Twitter is a good way to pass the time. Anyway. Yesterday was a shit show. The horror of what happened (is happening?) in Charlottesville feels like it was both a long time coming and completely unbelievable in the year 2017. It makes me angry and sad and scared and confused. It makes me want to rise up with fists and cower in the corner.
Two weeks ago, I was talking to my therapist about my summer and how I've been feeling and, rather unexpectedly, I began to feel hysterical because I don't have any idea what I want to do with myself. Not just what I want to do on a random Saturday when I don't have plans, not just what to do with my time during my extended summer vacation. I don't know what to do with my life. I'll be 40 pretty soon. This is not a drill. That isn't the real problem, though. The real problem is that I have never known what I want. I used to volunteer a lot and give my time to people who could use it. I used to enjoy photography. For a while, I was really into collecting just about anything that struck my fancy: metal 1970s lunch boxes, Twin Peaks memorabilia, screen printed concert posters for The Donnas, paint-by-number paintings, etc. Lately, I am into getting rid of all the junk I collected in the past. I don't know.
I don't feel I have a passion. Or a purpose. It hurts me not to have these things. Here's the fundamental problem with me -- when someone says, "Well, what do you want to do?" the only answer I have is, "Nothing." Like, nothing. What do you want to do if you could choose anything? Nothing. What do you want to do if money were no object? Oh, just...nothing. I think, once, I wasn't like this. I think, once, I had passions and interests and a purpose. Now, I just feel like I don't. I don't know what I would do if I could choose anything. I don't know what I'm doing here on this planet. It makes me feel useless. I'm not in a black hole of depression, like I have been in the past, but I am wrangling with these feelings. What am I doing here and what the hell am I going to do going forward?
I have so many regrets that its hard to know where to begin: I regret making my world so small, I regret neglecting my writing for so long, I regret not fighting harder when I was younger, I regret being ruled by fear and anxiety, I regret giving in to my depression, I regret, regret, regret. I think that's what's at the heart of my sadness now. How will I ever move past all this regret and just live my life? How will I ever get comfortable with my past regrets and just accept the present and make a better future? I don't know if I can. I hope I can. Anyway, I think the state of the world right now has put all of this into stark relief for me.
I'm having an existential crisis, I think, but who wouldn't in this environment? During the election season, I said something to someone about my fears of T having the nuclear launch codes. That person's response? "Well, if he decides to use them, you won't have to worry about anything anymore." So, there's that.