It is Saturday a.m., around 11:20, but I still have not gotten out of bed. Just hanging out at my old home...my wife and daughter's home....upstairs, watching Spongebob Squarepants with my little girl, IM'ing with a new friend, thinking about the post I deleted.
Probably suffering a minor existential funk, one that will be relieved only with activity, reading, new poetry, painting tonight perhaps. I should probably get out of bed.
Why a existential funk? I thought I was doing well, combatting the depression, reaching out to new people, trying to make peace in my own heart with those whom I might have alienated (not intentionally, but alienated nonetheless). Coming to terms with my limitations, trying to be aware of my talents and strengths and build on them.
And sometimes I get in an e-mail conversation that puts me in this funk...and gets me thinking that I have not progressed as far as I thought. Am I deluding myself? Is the fellow conversant and I so far apart that we can't communicate anymore? I don't know. I value outside perspectives, because they can offer a view that someone who is too emotionally close can't objectively provide.
I've made my mistakes in friendships and relationships, and I have certainly contributed to the failure of my marriage...both in terms of my rigidity and in terms of not taking care of myself to the extent that I could not tend to the relationship.
I don't know. And therein lies the existential funk. I don't know.
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