My mind’s creative well seems to have dried out lately. I think it’s running low due to massive amounts of energy being spent on catastrophe-based introspection and a general sense of aimlessness. I’ll try not to make this a half-cocked, self-indulgent public therapy session, but I promise nothing.
My wheels have been spinning all day, everyday. But I never lower them to hit the ground, so I’m just wasting gas. My mind won’t shut off. Every day is a rumination on “what do I want out of life and how do I get it?” I spend more of my time reading blogs with titles like How To Increase Your Productivity and watching (ostensibly) inspirational Youtube videos about how to live your dream life and achieve success than I do applying myself and moving forward towards any designated goal.
I’m chock full of ideas on how to get going but I got no fucking clue on where it is I want to go. I have no endgame to try and materialize, so I’m reaching for a goal that doesn’t yet exist. And even though it doesn’t exist, I keep reaching out. And sooner or later, I’ll overextend and fall.
Maybe this has something to do with the fact that I’m turning 30 in a few weeks.
I’ll admit something I haven’t admitted out loud for a long time.
I view myself as stupid.
I have no interest in a pity party, nor do I need anyone to denounce that idea. I’m not fishing for any positive reinforcement. It’s just something I’ve always felt. From needing tutors throughout my academic life and being prescribed to mood altering chemicals, to still not being able to navigate simple arithmetic and heavily relying on spell check, I’ve always felt incompetent.
I’ve gained enough objectivity in my life so far as to be able to analyze those feelings and where they come from. I think they were externally instilled at a young age as opposed to intrinsically manufactured and I fight the thoughts when I can. But some days, when the chips are down and I’m dwelling on how much of my life I feel as though I’ve wasted, I just can’t keep them at bay.
“Maybe you really are just stupid. Maybe your brain never fully developed. Most other people don’t struggle and falter in every conceivable way like you do.”
Plus, there’s my life long struggle with mental illness. But I think that’s for a different blog at a different time.
So I’m sitting around feeling aimless, stupid, and entirely too self-absorbed. I’m becoming increasingly isolated and all the research and reading I’m doing seems to be more of a detriment that any sort of remedy. I feel old and uneducated and the world and everyone in it seems to pass me by. I recognize these feelings as symptoms of depression. But as any entry level med student could tell you, the identification of symptoms doesn’t relieve the effects.
But I’m getting too down and off point. Is there a point to this entry? I don’t know, I just felt I needed to write one. Ah yes, productivity as related to purpose.
You know, Ayn Rand (dropping literary references to overcompensate for my feelings of stupidity and under-education….shut up mind!) said in her seminal book Atlas Shrugged that the most depraved type of human being was a man without purpose. And as much as Ayn Rand was a gigantic lady-douche, I think she had a point there. (Also, her prose was astonishing.)
I feel as though I have no purpose right now.
I feel like some goddamn passion would cure these days of idle living.
I mean, I’ve always wanted to write for a living, but where’s the pragmatism in that? I’ve been financially unstable since I entered adulthood, do I really want to extend that in such a untenable industry as creative writing? Maybe I should just find a job that pays alright and live my life like a normal person.
But maybe that’s a cop-out.
Or maybe it’s practical.
It sure feels like a fucking cop-out.
In The Tao of Wu, Rza tells of how, Ol’ Dirty Bastard (shortly before he died) came to him in a state of perturbation and simply stated, “I don’t get it.”
Well I don’t get it either, ODB.
I don’t get it either.