this year sucks so far.

I'm feeling kinda down on myself.  I feel like I haven't accomplished enough or done enough aren't good enough.  I'm applying for jobs, and that always  makes me feel lousy. 

But if you look back on this year so far...

I took a large chunk of the investigation and negotiations that resulted in my brother in law, who I was fairly close to, put in jail and all the aftermath that comes with it. 

Then my kids' school counselor, who I'd just barely been working with, got arrested for raping a teenage client of his.  We'd been neighbors in two previous houses and his wife and kids played with me and mine. 

Then a week after Matt's sentencing my dad died.  I ended up spending three weeks doing nothing but helping my mom sort through finances and emotions and just being general support. 

Maybe I should stop being so hard on myself and be glad and happily surprised I'm not a freaking nutjob at the moment.  Because holy crap, this year sucks so far!

I'm a bit paranoid waiting for the next disaster. 

rainstorm

We drove up the hillside
where we could see the city sprawled below
and lightning scattered here and there
across the valley. 
Rain sheeted from the newly treated windshield
like water on oil.
Thunder rolled right above us.
It was terrifying and exciting and beautiful,
seeing the storm from such a high vantage,
laid out before us like some kind of special effect.
We turned on the radio
and sang all the way home. 

Sometimes writing helps unload what's on my brain.  Sometimes I'm too exhausted even for that.  I think today I'm somewhere in between.  Too pent up to sleep, too tired to make anything pretty.

People tell me their secrets.  I seek out peoples' dark sides in order to try to bring them some light.  Sometimes it gets overwhelming, the amount of pain and destruction people cause each other and themselves.  Today I got to ask a therapist how she handles everything that comes into her office without taking it home with her.  She says she does the best she can while at work, and then turns the rest over to God.  She's done the best she can, and the rest is no longer her responsibility. 

Today I had a lady declare suicidal inclinations and then walk into a bar.  I had to decide whether or not I would follow her in for the good cause of trying to bring her back out.  I decided against it.  Maybe the person didn't seem desperate enough to warrant me going against my principles.  Maybe I was angry that she rejected my offer to do anything besides get drunk.  I told her I'd be available until midnight, and then I must sleep. 

It's also hard when an adult admits to abuse they suffered as a kid.  You hurt so badly for that kid, but you can't help them.  The kid is grown and the opportunity is long since past.  All you can do is offer an ear, a hug, and whatever sympathy they'll take.  I can't fix people.  All I can do is point them at resources and hope they can put in the work themselves.  The things we do to children in the years we have them last a lifetime. 

---

I had a job interview yesterday.  I'm not sure if I want it or can even do it.  I had another job recommendation today for another job I'm not sure if I want or can do.  My self-esteem is shot to pieces, and my professional productivity has come to a screeching halt.  I feel like I can't DO anything.  That despite whatever gifts or abilities I may have, or even any good effort on my part, will never be good enough.

People keep telling me to write.  And it's not like I don't have ideas.  There's the first person narrative of a mindhacker/lucidi profiling people in a social environment that got me labeled as a sociopath (thanks, you jerk).  There's the story of a person's life as written in letters addressed to God.  There's the story of the Neon Dreamer and Uprising and heck, even Virtual Magick would be a fun case study. 

And I wonder... if anything is worth the effort.  Life.  "We keep striving, trying to survive in a world that doesn't give a flying fuck."  Why?  From a religious perspective, it's because there's work to do.  But as religion and I aren't getting along as well as we used to, that leaves existential depression.  So that's a thing. 

I'm tired and rambly.  I have to stay awake for 30 more minutes.  That's enough time for some ramen.

fallen muse

one by one my heroes fall

until there's nothing left to look up to

to hold onto

and i wonder if i should stop

trying to keep people alive.

alive for what?

more of this?

i loved you. 

i loved you!

how could you do this?

why didn't you tell me?

how did i not see it

in you or in her?

is this my fault

for not noticing

or for opening the gate?

i don't even know how to feel anymore.

i loved you and wanted you for so long

it is hard to reconcile that

with this

defilement.

--

all this music,

all these places,

all these memories are yours.

i don't know what to do with them.

truly you become a ghost,

gone

gone.

there's this hole,

aching, bleeding,

and i'm broken and furious.