Complacent

People ask me how I can be so uComplacent1pbeat and strong, so centered, so independent and positive and go go go all the time.  Trust me, it wasn’t always that way.  We all have our ups and downs throughout life. The following is an excerpt from my personal journal.  I wrote volumes over a period of about 7years—it was a dark time in my life. This particular day became the pivotal turning point in my heart and soul, the catalyst that eventually changed my life for the better. 

 

February 20th 2010

Complacent. That’s what I’ve become. It’s so easy to just not make the effort.  Let it go.

Whatever “It” is….the chore, the purchase, the person, the responsibility.

I never thought I would become complacent.  But here I am.  Another weekend, and not doing anything useful with it.  So what?  Sitting by the computer, hoping someone finds me on this stupid dating website.  No one responds to my profile. They want a “pic” before they decide I’m worth talking to. It isn’t going to happen.  If one more person tells me I should have a line of guys at my door and down the block I may go postal.  Hell, they’re all complacent too.  Oh, there’s a shocker.  Not sure what the answer is, or if there is one. Maybe if I tried to be demure and helpless—ha! It isn’t going to happen.  Or, I could just go get dressed and go to the store before the rain freezes.

I should.

But I’m so damn complacent. Hell with it. I’m good right here.

I’ve sat here all day staring at TV doing nothing.  I don’t even recall what’s been on.  And part of this routine is to feel depressed at my situation.  Oh, yeah, I’m depressed all right. Depressed at the sad state of my life.  Who would of thought this is where I’d be today?  Holed up in a basement I rent from a guy in a small town, because I’m too tired at the end of the week to make the 90 minute drive to my own home.  And why would I go there anyway?  It’s not like anyone is missing me.  I could die right here, right now.  Who would notice?  Well, maybe the guy upstairs.  It would eventually smell bad.  Wait. What would he do with my dogs?  Send them to the pound, no doubt.  That would be horrible. I could never let that happen. I would haunt his ass for eternity.

But overall, this is a perfect place to hide from the entire known world. I like this basement.   I did make coffee.  That was something.  Whoop dee do.

In the last 48 hours I spoke with 5 people that were not work related conversations.  I guess that is something too.  Not everyone has 5 people to talk to.  Wow, I guess I do.  And one new email acquaintance.  Perhaps she will turn into a friend?  Let’s document the list….Jack, Vicki, Becca, Alice.  Maybe Liz?  But what if they find out I’m sitting here in this basement? Oh, like I care.  I pay to be here.

I called them all.  No one was free.  “Some other time.”  Sure.  That will happen.

I’m struggling fiercely with feeling alone.  So alone.  Alone.  Alone on the island.  So very alone.  But, really I’m not alone.  Just in some ways.  Ron came to the rescue when my truck broke down and I was almost two hours away from home—that was a Godsend.  Scottie called me on Christmas Eve to wish me a happy holiday.  Scottie called me!  How kind! What a great colleague!  He was the only human I heard from besides Ed.

Ed.

What a disappointment.  Two outdoors-people.  So compatible.  So complacent.  What did he really want with me?  He so easily let me slip away.  No questions, no attempt to challenge my behavior or give me a little nudge….after all, it had been a long time since I’d been on any resemblance of a date.  I don’t know how to date.  I don’t want to know how to date.  Dating sucks.  Who needs it?

So damn complacent.

He’s probably like all the other guys, thinking there are so many options.  Younger, thinner, prettier options I suppose. Go gettum, dude.  Like Dave, only Dave was so much worse.  At least Ed hasn’t called me “too fat”.  How do we go from daily talks to zero in a matter of a moment?   And do I feel like telling him off?  Or telling him anything?

Heck no.  That would take effort.  What a waste.

Just like getting dressed up, or made up, or spruced up.  Who needs it?

So he just melts into the atmosphere, never seen or heard from again.  Gone.  I’ve reached the conclusion that nothing is worth the effort.  Everything is replaceable, disposable, forgettable.  I cannot imagine trying to hang onto something that is clearly not right—hang on like Sarah with her Jeff….how crazy to try to stay immersed in a situation completely wrong for you, just to avoid being alone.

And I am, indeed, so alone.

What’s wrong with alone?  I severed the ties with virtually everyone in my life all at once years ago, yet here I am, still alive. Lone survivor, that’s me. It’s better to be alone than to be in something hurtful and wrong.

I am so alone. Holy shit, is everything hurtful and wrong?

I hear pins drop all the time.  I hear the echo of silence.  I am painfully alone.

If Ed truly wanted me, he’d be back for me.  As would any of them.  No one, not one, has reached out to me.  No “are you ok?” or “I miss you can we talk?” They would if I mattered to them.  I totally believe that.  Why, why, why does everything always have to be up to me to start, or keep going?  I’m done.  It takes two.

Life is much less complicated now.

I hear the sound of the clock upstairs ticking, ticking, ticking….alone.  And my landlord is up there.  I hear him walking around.  He hates women.  What does that make me?

Nose to the wind, I push forward, and embrace alone.  That’s me.  Nothing will hurt me again.  Nothing will surprise me, nothing will penetrate my walls, nothing will matter outside of my closely guarded personal space. No more hoping for anything.

Life.

It’s here until it’s not.  I wonder if this is how Dad felt after mom passed?  Another day, just get through it, nose to the wind.

Oh, how I miss you, Dad.

Looking back at the new year, I’ve worked, worked, worked, and worked, and then spent some time feeling dreadfully tired, and very, very let down.  I have this routine so I can get through my day, my week, my month.  I’ve lost my sense of pride to a lonely routine.  My body hurts from shouldering the loneliness, the sadness, the despair.  Where do I find places to draw on happy feelings from?  I don’t recall having a place. Did I ever have a place? When a customer or colleague truly appreciates something I’ve done for them?  Yes, that does bring tears of gratitude to my eyes. When my babies rush to me licking, dancing and wagging tails.  Yes, their unconditional love fills me with gratitude.  That’s about it.

Pretty sad existence.3beggars

Or is it?

Maybe I shouldn’t be so quick to judge.  What I have is far more than what a lot of people have.  I have my health-sort of.  I have a great job.  A roof over my head and food in the fridge.   I have stuff.  I have 3 sweet baby dogs that love me unconditionally and make me smile no matter what.  And at least 5 people to talk to about things not work related.

I have what matters.

Buddy is staring at me intently.  Then his gaze travels to his ball.  Then to me.  Then the  ball.  Then me

I have what matters.  Yeah, hell yeah, I can convince myself I have what matters.

Yeah.  I can choose to be grateful for these things that matter.

And right now,  I do choose.

I choose to feel gratitude for all that I have.  I choose to respect the gifts I’ve been given. I choose to make the best with what I’ve been given.

Buddy successfully engages me in a round of fetch.  He knows how to work it.  His euphoria unfolds with the toss and retrieve of a ball, and I smile.

My euphoria could unfold with something as simple as the toss and retrieve of a ball.  It’s a start.  Nothing to be sad for here.  Today, I live for these loving dogs who count on me. I am blessed!

Time to get dressed and get to the store.

And stop being complacent.

Maybe I’ll apply a little lipstick, too…

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