Areas of Unrest

12 August 2001 - Fertile Chaos

QOTD: "It has always struck me as a distinctly American need - to know the first name of the force of nature that might kill you or destroy your home. 'Hi, my name is Jerry and I'll be your Tropical Depression.'" - Steve Rushin

Reading: Roland Huntford, Shackleton

Listening to: Stan Rogers, From Fresh Water

Every year you seem to pack six months' worth of living and dying and being reborn into the last few weeks before your birthday. This time around you're cramming in about a decade's worth. All the emotions you'd been suprressing are erupting. All the illusions you'd been working overtime to uphold are rapidly losing their believability. All the contradictions you'd been frantically trying to keep separate are melting down into a gargantuan blob of fertile chaos. All the golden opportunities you'd been holding at bay are forcing you to let them in or else.

I don't believe in astrology at all, but I do read my horoscope in the newspaper. (And, sad to say, I read Robert's also.) I mention this because the above is my horoscope from this week's issue of New Times and it very nicely sums the way I've been feeling this week. I've had this dreadful bout of revisiting long ago decisions and second guessing things I did years ago. As a result I've been torn up about my job and about Robert and about damn near everything else. Wednesday was particularly bad and I barely kept myself from bursting into tears all afternoon.

I understand exactly what was going on, but I felt overwhelmed and unable to do anything about it. This is all stuff in my head (well, except that some of it is probably hormonal but that's another matter) and it comes down to this idea that I'm wasting myself. I'm wasting my Ph.D. since I don't have time to do much research. I'm wasting my love because I'm never going to be more than a footnote in Robert's life. I'm wasting too bloody much time feeling sorry for myself. At the intellectual level, I recognize this as b.s. but that doesn't help while in the throes of it.

I'm better now, though not quite up to par. Being sociable and busy today helped a lot. I can almost always avert depression by keeping myself active. I still need to spend some time figuring out just what it is I want that I'm not getting so I can figure out what to do.

No wonder I relate to the Red Sox. We both experience an August meltdown.