Tag: alone

45

No, not “that” number 45 (doubt I will ever get into politics on here). Earlier this week, that became my new age.

Only my two remaining closest immediate family members (mother and grandmother) remembered, though I expected that since I haven’t kept anyone else close enough in my life to.

With as pronounced as this midlife crisis is becoming, I was glad to get this birthday behind me. But it was still another reminder of everything in front of me. Having to find a new job, new city, (hopefully) new and improved habits. At a stage in life when many people have found stability, I have nothing but a huge self-rebuilding project and plenty of necessary change to deal with.

And the problem is…..I barely even care enough to try and get all that off the ground. When I’ve failed badly before, there was much solace in knowing that I still had most of my adult years left to rebound (and you could try and chalk away some of it to youthful mistakes). But this time, there are no excuses. There is no remaining youth to enjoy any goals that might be reached. And there isn’t nearly as much that I can do with my future (career and otherwise) than there used to be.

It’s very humbling, troubling, and uncomfortable. And a little scary. To know that you can’t continue to survive living this way, but for the first time in your life, you don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel (that may finally motivate some change).

So I’m really not sure if I’ll find a way to hang on (or even improve), or just continue to fall apart even further and the let the “midlife” part the crisis become permanent.

I’d like to be optimistic about it, but I’ve never really had the strength to consistently battle my demons before. So I don’t know.

I really don’t know.

The soundtrack to your life

A lot of us undoubtedly have a song that defines us. Mine is “You Belong to the City” by Glenn Frey. Not just because it’s an 80s song or because I’ve lived in cities my entire adult life; there’s a lot more to it than that.

  • “The moon comes up and the music calls. You’re getting tired of staring at the same four walls”.

I’ve talked about this in recent blogs. Being such a night person who sits around feeling entrapped in the same place, whether it be inside my mind or the actual walls of whatever apartment I was living in at the time. Often with nothing but the music playing in the background.

  • “Moving through the crowd in the midnight heat. The traffic roars. The sirens scream. You look at the faces. It’s just like a dream.”

I’ve done this so many times. Out in the city alone at night. The sounds around you. It does feel just like an escapist dream.

  • “Nobody knows where you’re going. Nobody cares where you’ve been.”

This doesn’t quite describe me now (although sometimes it already feels like it), because my mother and a very small handful of other people would check up on me. But as I get older, that group gets smaller and smaller. And I’m certainly not living (or expect to live) the kind of lifestyle that will expand a family/close friends circle during the second half of my life. As the years go on, that verse will ring more and more true, and it could easily encapsulate my situation literally at some point.

  • “When you said goodbye you were on the run. Trying to get away from the things you’ve done. Now you’re back again and you’re feeling strange. So much has happened, but nothing has changed. You still don’t know where you’re going. You’re still just a face in the crowd.”

Quite eery how this is now my present. As we speak, I’m on my way back from the city that I left many years ago. The place that I’ve realized should be home for the rest of my life. I expect to move back there early next year. And that line couldn’t express it any better…..much has happened since, but so little has changed.

  • “Cause you belong to the city. You belong to the night. Living in a river of darkness, beneath the neon light”.

Simply says it all. Past, present, and future.

Being frozen

Many of you who’ve read my blog can probably relate:

You lay around late at night.

Plenty of depression napping earlier, so you’re not tired. But you also don’t have the energy or desire to accomplish anything.

Don’t really feel like listening to music you like. Or trying to talk to anyone (though even if you did, most are asleep or wouldn’t respond anyway).

No new book nearby. Not really feeling like looking at what’s on TV.

Already passed a little time by rolling your eyes at the usual FB pages or sites you sometime frequent. Nothing too interesting at the moment.

So you just stare at the screen. Antsy, restless, virtually motionless. With nothing to do but think of how each moment passing by is becoming more meaningless than the last.

Envious of those who are out enjoying themselves and possibly creating new life memories.

Trapped in time. Feeling frozen.

Saturday night solitude

At the moment, it’s 10:15 PM on Saturday night (there goes a little bit of anonymity, right? Time zone revealed. They’ll be on to me soon…..)

I sit here alone in the dark, trying out some bizarre ’80s synth music mix in the background. People all around the city here are out and about. Meeting. Having a fun night, or an awkward one, or one that’s yet to be determined. But living. I am not.

Sometimes I think that the depression is a main culprit in distancing me from the word. But then I remember that there are deeper roots to it than that. For example, my grandfather died when I was 12. He was a very close family member. Did I feel the typical sadness or mourning from that? Not at all. You could say that I didn’t even care that much. And as I lost a couple other people very close to me in the last few years (including my father recently), it wasn’t a whole lot different. It hit me a little more (especially that significant life-altering change of losing a parent), but not THAT much. This doesn’t mean that I have no conscience or lots of sociopathic tendencies; I still have a heart for the well-being of those around me. But when it comes to something deeper…..it’s just not there with anyone. Family, friends, or significant others. And it never has been.

That being said, I have always had various people somewhat close in my life. But not in that inseparable way (or in that way where you’re often hanging out on weekends, etc.) That was a part of me for all of about 3 years at college, and for a very short while in my mid 20s later on. Other than that, most of life has been just like it is now. Either choosing to be alone, or involuntarily being the person who is just on the outskirts of a closeknit group. Mostly an outsider.

So I stare blankly ahead. Knowing that more of this empty, fairly meaningless charade of life may continue indefinitely. And without escape, as I’d never be suicidal (another of my few significant fears is death, and none of my troubles will ever override that).

An empty vessel. Wasting away the only life that he’ll ever have.

It’s not an enjoyable existence, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Loner chronicles

I grew up as an only child in goody-good 80s suburbia, which got me used to plenty of both alone and social times. But like most people, I tended to learn more toward one of those ways. As I hit my teen years, there was little doubt that it would be the loner side. The fact that I was more naive and a shade different than most other kids also fed into that tendency. So while I am totally comfortable socially, I find myself often wishing (when out with others) that I was simply home alone instead. Unless I’m doing something that I really enjoy, or am with someone that I really like. I imagine this social pickiness is something that many socially-adept loners can relate to….

Despite this, I often tried to date during my 20s (and had such a steep learning curve about it). Unless you’re a natural, and I sure as hell wasn’t, there is SO much bad advice and off-base ideals that an adult guy needs to wash out of his system in order to understand how real world dating actually works. By my 30s, I’d become a lot wiser about the subject and enjoyed dating that much more. But at the same time, I started to feel a lot more empty. Not because of heartbreak or bitterness or anything related to the opposite sex; it was just my emotions starting to shut down even more than before (from my other life issues in general).

Throughout my life, I had always had a sensual side that contradicted my cold-hearted bastardness. Thoughts of an incredible connection on both the inside and outside. Mutually passionate desires with someone that exploded while Sade’s “No Ordinary Love” was on in the background. But as the years went on, those things just didn’t matter much anymore. Because not much as anything seemed to.

So nowadays, I haven’t bothered to meet up with anyone much lately. It just doesn’t seem fair to present a facade of being open to something real (when I just don’t have the emotional capacity for it). The fact that I’m unhappy with my physical condition for the first time doesn’t help either. I’ve basically become the guy equivalent of a spinster. And the thing is, I don’t miss it. When you’ve become such a shell on the inside, being single is simply not painful.

What I DO miss is this: being the person who was capable of having that passion that I mentioned above. The one who looked forward to experiencing those best things that life has to offer. The one who didn’t feel that his best years were behind him.