Realities

I’m done. This job has gotten the best of me. I gave it the best years of my life and it is killing now that I’m near the end. Every day it seems, pain settles into a new place. It hurts my heart the most. I’m 55 with so many good years ahead and yet I keep buying into the bullshit that I have to stay until the end of the year. What if I don’t survive it ? What if it continues to beat me down ? This feels like a dead-end. I worry sometimes that I will let go and stop trying. Let go and give in to a broad defeat.

My art has suffered because it’s stagnant. Just yesterday I spoke about wanting it to be revolutionary. It isn’t that. It’s a nice “craft”. It’s a nice “hobby”. How should I expect others to take me seriously when I can’t take myself seriously ?

I feel myself beginning to spiral. My body feels like there is something terrible happening beneath the surface. All the doctors I have had history with are now gone. Trying to explain to someone new that I am not right is a Herculean task. Excessive weight loss, muscle loss, extreme fatigue and P A I N. It is troubling. And yet I’m getting sick of even saying it aloud. I can’t walk the dogs today because I don’t have a strong enough grip in either hand to hold the leash. My left knee (the good one) feels like it is full of fluid. Both shoulders are a mess and I can barely move my neck.Good fucking God. I’m a mess.