Deep Cycles

I've now been out of my cast for about 34 days.

In that period of time I've gotten almost all my range of motion back. I've been walking, climbing stairs, carrying heavy shit.

The last few days I've been carrying a heavier and heavier burden emotionally. I've got no job, no real money in any portfolio, no supportive wife to carry my financial burden and bills to pay... I'm not whining, or complaining, just feeling the weight of what is to come.

I can get my old job back today if I wanted to, but I've learned in this 10 month span that I really don't want to go back to that by any means. I could be waiting forever on a local driving job phone call from them... I still want to wash trucks. I need to bring money in so that I don't feel like a loser.

The family I am living with would roll their eyes at the idea of me feeling like a loser after how dramatically I've changed things around here for the positive, but for me, I need the independence of money. I need what that brings in order to feel free, because without a genuine sense of freedom... I'm just not me.

I know I'm not a loser, I just feel like one. I feel poor having $15,000 left in my bank account when others would feel rich. Why do I feel poor then? Because it is being sucked out of the account if I am not contributing to it, and to me, the logical inevitability is that the balance will go to zero as long as this situation persists.

It is imperative that I become employed. It is fucking with me that I am not. I am afraid of it, but my fear of failure without a job must become greater than the fear of having one. It's really that simple.

I know that as soon as I have one I'll feel better about my situation. Then, as live is and always does, a new problem will walk into my consciousness to worry about. Perhaps it will be financial, perhaps health related... who knows, but guaranteed something will fill the void.

I haven't been sleeping well since I got here... and lately I've been waking up with heel pain in the night, which strangely goes away as soon as I begin to walk.

I've painted my room. I've cleaned the shit out of every room in this house. I painted the bathroom, I've mowed and weeded the yard... I've piled heavy ass rocks. I've washed and detailed the cars. I've buffed the calcium off the windows. I've washed the couch cushion covers. I've organized the crawl space and cut out bad carpet. I've hung shelves in the laundry room... I've reattached flashing on the roof. I felt at peace while doing all of it, but now at rest, I feel only anxiety and worry and dark direction-less silence.

Sometimes I wonder how I will manage a life filled with enough action to keep that at bay until I die. I mean, we are all on the same path to nowhere aren't we? At least it's nowhere until we find out otherwise. It is the passion we have in our journey that seems to make it worth it.

Sometimes, we just need some sleep.