Assessing...

I don't know what it was that sent me crashing into a bleak, black rabbit hole, yesterday, but what kept it going was memories from shit that happened to me when I was twelve. That's the year I learned I had no control over my life. None. It happened in El Paso, which is why I absolutely loathe that city and when I would drive from LA to San Antonio, I would not stop till I was past it. No matter what.

I'm not sharing any of that, but I will say on the two occasions afterwards, where I did try to assert some control, I got shot down, totally. First was in Grand Forks, ND where I decided I was going to be part of the little theater group, on base, and make as many friends as I could. I was tired of being a loner, and El Paso had shown me having friends would be useful in many situations.

Well, we lived on base, 30 miles from town. I'd be in a new school around no one I knew. I could become as open and outgoing as I wanted. Instead, my mother was hospitalized, again, and we wound up being shipped back to San Antonio. I wound up attending a school where I knew everyone and they knew me, and there was no chance of me reimagining myself.

The second time was in Hawaii, where we were going to stay for 3 years. I pushed myself to make friends, again, and decided I was going to take a boat back to the mainland, not fly. I got my Social Security card, even though I was still 15, and went looking for a part-time job so I could start saving for my trip. Instead, I got corralled into babysitting my brothers and sister so my mother could work, because that damn state was so damned expensive we needed the extra income. And we still wound up moving back to San Antonio after a year. No option.

These experiences colored my view of how life works. And it set me on a path of just meandering through life. Trying this to see if it works and if it doesn't then trying that. Unable to focus too hard on anything for very long and losing interest the moment I sense I'm going to be kicked to the curb, again.

The one thing that amazes me through all of this is how long I've kept pushing at A Place of Safety, even though the whole of existence seems to be screaming at me that I will never make it work. I keep trying to figure it out...and do feel like I'm stepping closer and closer.

But as I was reading Eamon McCann's book I became so overwhelmed with a sense of futility, the only thing I could do to avoid throwing everything in the trash was to just shut down. So Saturday evening was spent watching second-rate murder mysteries on BritBox and Acorn. And Sunday I took hours to prep my expenses and invoice for time spent on this job...and just grew more depressed at what I was trying to do.

Then today I went into the office to drop off paperwork from the two jobs, gave everyone a little gift I'd bought in LaPorte, IA, the home of Buffalo Bill, and bought some groceries and came home and had a book I'd ordered from Kenny's Bookshop in Dublin waiting for me. I didn't expect it till next week. That managed to snap my mood and I've already read through some of it; it has an article by Martin Melaugh, who'd once told me I'd never get the sound of Derry's people right, but he'd also said I should try...and it seemed like a sign that I should keep working.

So I am...and I will...even if it takes another 20 years.