don't give up

to feel like such an alien in this world so often, then feel like part of a huge, planetary life form – everything is ‘one’ – then feel like a total Martian again, over & over & over??

I don’t want to hear that the answer is ‘complete mental instability, kel.’

It must go back to my theory that this is my first go round as a human being in my progress thru reincarnation, huh? Takes a few tries to get a good feel for being in this skin.

This goal has been a private goal just for me – and seen by anyone logging onto it on 43T! – but this week I’ve had 2 people come to me in different ways with something to share with me that directly helped me with this goal. Help comes when we need it, sometimes. This is one of those times, & for that, I am very happy.

doesn’t mean I’m attacking things with enough energy. Just sliding on through isn’t all that different from giving up. Slow starvation is still starvation. What the hell makes me go through periods of laziness or whatever it is concerning MY OWN LIFE? Fear. It’s gotta be fear. That damned fear of not doing everything perfectly. It’s totally stupid, but it’s a hard habit to break – as if I’ve ever done ANYTHING perfectly, anyway! Gotta cut myself some slack and give myself a break now and then. I do that for other people, after all.

during a very low moment, that giving up just isn’t an option. Suicide is waaayyy too final – I know I’ll change my mind tomorrow about wanting to live, even if I feel like ending it today, but won’t be able to change my mind if I’ve already done it. Nope, way to final…although I’ve only once considered it at all seriously.

To me now, giving up would mean living as if I no longer cared about anything. I spent some time living like that once. I can only see myself living like that for a very limited amount of time. It wastes. It wastes life. I don’t want to give away my “life time” anymore.

So, that most recent time I got so down, so confused, so puzzled, so desperate, that giving up came back to mind, I think something clicked in my head that will, barring some major trauma, no longer allow me to seriously consider giving up.

The semi-romantic image of a loner, a damaged man who abandoned his “normal” life and is bumming time in a rented shack on a beach somewhere, near a seedy bar, or hitchhiking in random directions, is NOT, in reality, anywhere close to being a romantic style of life. It’s a painful life with roots in even worse pain.

Anything I can do that is half way constructive or minimally positive does more for my mood, even if it’s not all that enjoyable, than anything remotely related to that damaged guy on the beach. He only seems okay in a novel.

is easy because it involves doing nothing. Not even fighting for one’s own self. Just sliding on through wherever the path of least resistance lies. What kind of choice is that? I tell myself that feeling overwhelmed is gonna happen now and then. The only productive way to get over it is to tackle things, one at a time.

I swear, sometimes I think the old friends I had who burned out their brains on drugs and can’t think all that well anymore have a happier life. At least more contentment. A lot less turmoil.

Kel,
Who is struggling up the side of the mountain, and has yet to see any sign of the great view from being up so high.

Finally, after reaching pretty much the end of my rope, I asked for help. It was given gladly and abundantly, I accepted it with relief. Doesn’t make things perfect, and I’ll be working hard, but with confidence this time around. Wish I’d asked and teamed up earlier, but I know I wasn’t ready. Hands across the water…what’s goes is never gone. I do thank all.

Hang on. Live life. It can surprise you. It IS worth it.

It gets so tempting