There may be some people who, on the first day of a serious funk, identify it, and set about rectifying it. Would that I were one of those people.
My first instinct is to quash it. A firm believer in the power of positive thinking, I ignore my ennui and go about my days as though nothing were amiss. And, sometimes this actually works. It doesn’t solve anything, of course, but it can help me get to a better place.
The problem with quashing is that when it doesn’t bring about the desired result my angst is doubled. My original problem is now shrouded in a feeling of inadequacy at my failure to meet it, head on. It becomes a true “elephant in the middle of the room”. Quick! Throw a blanket over it!
It is truly amazing how creative I can be without any conscious effort. I have employed a great number of things to prevent my having to actually resolve to make a change, end a habit, or perform a task I dread.
Social networking is my latest drug of choice. Had you told me three years ago that I might spend hours, daily, in front of my computer monitor, accomplishing nothing more important than sending a bouquet of virtual flowers or participating in a virtual food fight, I would have thought you daft and told you so. I am blessed with a group of caring, intelligent, and highly entertaining virtual friends whose constant company allows me to put most anything on the back burner, and I giggle as it boils over.
A nice glass of wine adds a fresh patina to even the most unpleasant day. Several hours and another glass later, all that remains is an easily avoided memory.
My hobbies, too, provide a place in which I can immerse myself. Of late, I have finished two pieces of needlework, completed three jigsaw puzzles, taken numerous photographs, planted several gardens, and begun a large sketch of a nature scene. When I haven’t been posting my answers to “25 Things About Me”, I’ve been busy.
What I haven’t been doing very much of lately is writing. I love to write, but lately, the thought of it makes me weary. Upon recognizing that fact, I accepted it, and as happens so often when I “Let go…”, the reason revealed itself.
Writing, you see, requires introspection. Even when writing fiction, the writer culls from life experience, emotion, and, thus, evaluation. It’s this last part I’ve been avoiding….
A good friend, upon expressing his intense dislike of a photograph of me, asked what it meant to me. I stumbled over several likely answers before he, tenacious as always, asked me to start again.
“And, make it real this time.”
“I was looking out a window…”
“Uh-huh…”
“…because I’m looking for something. I don’t know what it is. I only know it’s not here.”
“Fine. I get that.”
There was no further discussion of the offending photograph, and the answer satisfied me as well, until recently.
As happens quite often when I refuse to deal with my demons, a virus snaked around my wearied defenses, laying me low. For the better part of two days, all I wanted was sleep. When I awoke this morning, the fever seemed to have broken, leaving behind a revelation.
Age, the time I have spent in what seems to have been a circuitous route to nowhere, weighs heavy upon my head. I am the cliché, looking out a window, asking “Is this truly all there is?”
The empirical knowledge that my experience only speaks to my normalcy gives me no more relief than knowing that missing teeth were a normal part of grade school, or that break-outs were expected in puberty. I never aspired to be normal. Normal is boring. I would much rather be me.
And, there’s the rub; because right now, at a time when I really need me, I’m not very happy with me. I’ve ignored me. I’ve abused me. I’ve neglected me and many other people in my life, in pursuit of avoidance.
In truth, what I have here, inside the window, is very nearly picture perfect. I think its time I drew myself back in.
© Copyright 2007-2009 Stacye Carroll All Rights Reserved
Are We There Yet? 
I can relate to this one on so many levels that it’s scary. I’ve started to write this post myself a dozen times.
Thank you for finishing it for the both of us.
I understand and seem to be dealing with the same demon,myself. I wish I could find the right thing to say, you can’t see the tear in my eye. I sometimes find myself lost in this world of technology. where having friendships with people around the world are possible, real, but limited and somewhat guarded. it is so easy to let our feelings out yet so easy to shut them off with a switch. I look to it as almost spiritual in a sense, you can feel the presence but you can’t feel the body, you are void of your other sense. the internet is like the perfect party,and like all good parties it hard to leave. As i type this comment there are other task and things I should be doing, but i to need to pick the pencil up and draw myself back in.