Dissolution
The complex personality that is me seems to be falling apart.
Yesterday morning, I was happy enough when I awoke. But the computer had shut down again during the night sua sponte. And there was the threat of unpleasantly warm weather. Something snapped. I wasn't just put out. In fact, I never even raised my voice in protest. I just dreamed of throwing myself in front of a subway train. It was the opposite of anger. I wasn't bustling with outraged emotion. I didn't feel anything. The meanings in my life had all been effaced.
Not erased, as I first thought. Meaning revived as the day went on (thanks hugely to Jane Gardam, by the way), and I began to care again. But now, about to go to bed, I feel the emptiness of the recovery more than the recovery itself. If "life had no meaning," I wouldn't, obviously, be writing here, and I'm writing here with a passion. But the rest of life, the life that I live among other corporeal beings - all right, bodies - that's hard to take. Why do I take up so much space, and why, despite so much evidence to the contrary, do I feel that nobody wants to be anywhere near me?
We all know that I'm massively overtired, trying to do at fifty-nine what I barely carried off at thirty-five, and failing. But I'm going to the doctor this morning anyway, just in case there's something organically wrong. (My therapist wondered if I mightn't have had a small stroke.) It throws everything up in the air - Kathleen's trip to Kuala Lumpur, my time-out in Connecticut. I'm on something like a suicide watch.
Thanks for reading. I mean it.
Comments
RJ,
I always read, always find what you have to say interesting, enlightening, and so often find myself nodding my head in agreement or turning up one corner of my mouth in amusement at what you have to say. I rarely comment only because of my own scatteredness and of late have felt overwhelmed by life myself to the point where writers block has set in. I admire anyone who manages to write so consistently and prolifically as you, and though we've never met IRL your wit, warmth and intelligence comes through so clearly in your written words. I'm sending good, grounding thoughts your way along with wishes for a speedy mental/physical/spiritual improvement however it may come. We all hit our share of bumps on life's pothole filled highway, here's hoping this one is a short, shallow one for you. Whatever you do, be kind to yourself. You have love and support coming at you from out here in the vast blogosphere.
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June 1, 2007 10:39 AM
Hang in there, it will get better; take it from one who knows. A platitude, to be sure, but like many platitudes, bearing the nucleus of truth.
Posted by: LXIV | June 1, 2007 11:23 AM
RJ:
You are so valuable to me and C. It saddens me to hear you describe this rough patch. It's good that you are going to a doctor. Hope you'll be back in balance soon enough.
T
Posted by: T | June 1, 2007 06:36 PM
RJ,
I'm glad to see (from today's post) that you're doing better, and that you have Kathleen and so many others around who care and watch over you.
As they say on the internets, *hugs*
Butter Monkey
Posted by: Butter Monkey | June 2, 2007 01:27 PM
Not to be overly flip here, and I'm catching this a day late apparently and it should be noted that I've had the premonition for the last few days without DB since no connections existed in the remote areas I was in that something was up with you, but are we going back to scenes from Who Is Harry Kellerman and Why Is He Saying Such Terrible Things About Me? Being on a learning curve, on a learning curve always, is what it's all about. Tiresome though it might be, you, you above all people, know that the learning curve is really what it's all about. I would say the evidence about those not wanting your company should be massive to the contrary indeed. Can we spell projection here? Perhaps, when I was in Wilimington the Friday before Memorial Day I should have parked the truck and taken the train to Yorkville. I certainly had the time but we all know how much you dislike unannounced visits, how order is paramount to you. And, I agree, you have shown me well over the decades, order is everything. Order begins in the mind and is evidenced by the tangible results of an orderly mind, in your case good clear writing. Throwing yourself in front of a train, My God! Next you'll be telling me that you "want a new life and a day without fear" just like the character in Who Is Harry Kellerman, do you remember which character? As we East Texans are prone to say, 'Call, write or come by' the next time one of these moods takes hold of you, eh? You want dissolution, try spending fourteen hours in Hoboken, Hoboken, Georgia, and reading Crime and Punishement. Yes, Alfie, there are places the broadband card will not connect!
Posted by: George | June 2, 2007 05:15 PM
Dear George's comment just made my day. I hope it made yours, too, RJ.
Posted by: Migs | June 3, 2007 02:11 PM