The contrast is too great. The world I live in here and on Twitter, the things I do, the people I meet, the conversations I have, are too much fun. This life is drawn in such bright colours; the emotional and sensual highlights of a session with a sex worker, the joy of meeting new people and talking about exciting, wide-ranging things; these are such highs, such delights.
And my poker is the same: living on my wits; making decisions for valuable piles of chips; the thrill of pulling off a bluff; the pride of running somebody else’s to ground. These are highs too.
Small wonder then, that I’m finding it hard to concentrate on those other parts of my life: the job that’s gone horribly wrong and where I feel I’m managing a slow, inexorable death; the marriage that shares those same, gloomy characteristics. This stuff is drawn in dull greys and sludgy browns for me, making me feel flat and uninterested. I’ll sit for hours, trying to get started on the next thing, only to give up and dive into Twitter, preferring to be BibulousOne, rather than that other guy, the one whose life is a bit of a mess.
Somehow I absolutely have to get on top of this and find some balance, not so much for me but for the others involved. At work I have people who depend for their livelihood on the company turning itself around. At home I have two young adults whose happiness depends, in part, on my wife and I making a future that works for them. That needs more of my focus than it’s getting. I have two ageing parents who need more of my time too. I give it gladly but go looking for something less demanding after I’ve been with them.
A start would be to be more disciplined about how I spend my time. Perhaps I should try to divide it into work, home and ‘me’ on some structured basis. Historically I’ve been rubbish at doing that, really very rubbish! However, I think that has to be the start of it.
I can be very down about all this. It seems the next few years requires me to manage a series of endings; the job, my marriage, the inevitable passing away of my parents. In each case ‘good’ seems to be defined only as a successful damage limitation exercise.
It would be nice to be managing some beginnings at the same time.
Perhaps I am doing.
I have a successful blog that provides a wonderful creative outlet. Through the blog, I’m starting to build a new network of friends: lovely, open, inquisitive people who understand and accept me and my kinks. I can see opportunities to develop my passion for food in new and exciting directions. I can see opportunities for travel and for poker.
But, I have to find a way to divide my time between creating satisfactory endings in the old life, and the much more exciting process of creating stimulating beginnings in the new one.
And, right now, that’s a challenge.
Wow, I’m with you there like you wouldn’t believe!
In between dealing with a developmentally challenged child, an estranged husband with bipolar disorder, and a thankless, dead-end job, my mother died ravaged by cancer leaving my dad an emotional wreck. And my readers wonder why I like it when my lovers choke me into unconsciousness!!
I suspect that a lot of us see a reflection in what you say here. It raises all sorts of questions such as which is the real me ? Is it the one in all those vibrant colours that’s the result of more recent and exciting discoveries, or is it the weary one we’ve been presenting to the world for almost our entire lives ?
My own version of this sees my original self now caring less and less for what used to drive it.
I think that the onset of these questions is when we find the courage and self-belief to look deep inside and untangle and grasp the long held fantasies and dreams. The point where the fantasies are, or at least, appear to become tangible and real is where the conflicts arise.
melody