Oil on troubled waters

Oil on troubled waters

Sail on, Silver Girl, sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way

Simon & Garfunkel, Bridge Over Troubled Water –

See, I told you I’d be back soon.

Barely three weeks ago I decided to take a break from blogging, having realized that I no longer had anything to write about that was really worth reading. This led me to decide I needed to take a step back and figure out the direction in which I wanted my life to go, because that in turn could clear or cloud my judgment and thus affect my writing.

So I stepped away from the text box, but remained so attached to this place that I comforted myself by playing with the layout, hence the new header and link color. I kept my Twitter going, because my brain tends to go into overdrive sometimes and I’m constantly in need of some form of an outlet to preserve my sanity.

The good thing about this hiatus I went on is that it allowed me to look at my life from outside my writer’s mind, to see it from as different a perspective as I could. From there, I hoped to figure out why I had been in such an epic slump over the last few weeks and how I could get myself out of it. I kept faith in the idea that with a little time, I would be able to clear my mind and think things through thoroughly enough so that I could resume my writing in a healthier state of mind.

One reason was my job. I suppose on some level I had always known that the sudden changes that occurred in July would be little more than a quick fix, instead of a solution, to the problems I had been facing, and that had been slowly snowballing, ever since I joined this company. I don’t remember exactly when I finally accepted that I had allowed myself to be bought back into a company I had been desperate to escape, but that knowledge only served to enhance the self-loathing I sometimes felt when I looked around and saw the mess I had chosen to remain in.

The other part of my work-related reason was the social pressures I was beginning to feel. I had somehow been roped into a campaign of sorts to be more involved with the people in my Division, which completely went against my principle of being averse to communality and only served to increase my resentment of being around such bawdy, boisterous people, resulting in me isolating myself more than ever and forcibly shutting everyone else out.

This was not helped by the fact that there were some who had managed to stumble across this blog and found its content more personal than was necessary (no doubt a by-product of being oversensitive and gallingly narcissistic), and in the end I had to lock my Twitter and start filtering my blog content while I figured out what to do with them. It made me ever more derisive of my sudden conformity to the social and office politics, because it went against another principle of mine: to never do something just because others thought I should. It took more than a few people’s advice to make me realize that this blog is my own and therefore for me to do as I please with it, but I’ve come to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t always be able to please everyone, and shouldn’t bother with the ones who aren’t significant enough to make me want to please them.

As for my personal life – which I have too often called one of the greatest oxymorons of my existence – I had thought I had finally come (as close) to terms (as I could) with everything that had happened over the last seven years that I could let go of the old anger and unhappiness and focus on the first real relationship I’ve had in nearly three years. And yet, circumstances of my life were such that along with this new relationship came the old fears – of being hurt, abused and ultimately abandoned – and they began to take a toll on me sooner than I would have liked them to.

This emphasized the fact that I had landed myself in this relationship before I was actually ready (not very wise in retrospect; then again, one may never know when one is truly ready), and even though I cannot complain about my current lot in life, it made me realize that I had yet to let go of that one person. That one person who had made me question my self-worth time and time again, and yet who meant everything to me, to the point where the thought of losing him – though I had never actually had him – brought about a pain beyond all bearing. And with recent developments came the acceptance that there are some people who get under our skin and just stay there, and as perverse as it sounds, we wouldn’t have them anywhere else for the world. I now understand why people say, “I love you, I always have and I always will,” because even if it were not the kind of love we want it to be, it’s the kind of love nobody else would understand. As I said a year and a half ago, you are everything they never were.

And now, having made peace with the two banes of my existence, I think I am as ready as I’ll ever be to put them behind me, and resume my writing. I may not be happy as a lark right away, I may still fall into a slump that is sometimes more severe than others, but I’m willing to brush myself off and try again. These two factors will influence my writing for a long time to come, but at least I see them in a slightly clearer, if not better, light now, and compared to the crippling darkness I’ve been in, that makes all the difference in the world.

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