a priori/a posteriori

Tuesday, August 2, 2016

Being Unemployed Feels Like Your Life is Constipated

I feel like I'm losing my mind. 

I just spent the past two hours playing a motorcycle racing game on my phone.

The very same motorcycle game that Vanessa deleted from my phone, last night.  She snuck over and did it while I was exercising.

I have not exercised, today.  I have not done anything.

I sat here, and pressed my thumb against the screen of my phone, until I could feel the heat of the motor inside.  At one point I worried it would burn my thumb.

I kept playing.
This is what happens when your life has no direction.  You just sit around, waiting for something to change.  And it doesn't.

It just stays...shockingly...the same.

Shocking is the word.  It seems so...unbelievable.  "Surely, someone will stop me from wasting my life like this.  There's no way I'm going to get away with doing this little."

Your brain keeps expecting some TV announcer to burst through the door, and start caring that you're wasting your life. 

And then no one comes.  And then no one comes.

And then it's 10:30 in the morning.  And you start to feel like taking a nap...
It feels like my life is sitting on the toilet.  And it's trying to shit out some new version of itself.  It's trying to make something happen.

And it doesn't.  It just keeps not happening.  And I'm just sitting here, absentmindedly playing an app,

waiting for something to happen to me

And it doesn't.
Dreams don't die spectacular deaths, I don't think. 

That's what I'd like to believe.  I'd like to believe my dreams -- if they die -- will go out in a blaze of glory.  Will go down planting seeds all around them.  Will leave memories of what-might-have-been.

Most dreams don't die that way, though.  Most die of starvation.  Most die quietly, waiting to be fed.
I'm not sure why I stopped performing.  I'm not sure why I stopped giving a shit about comedy.  I'm not sure why I started hating stand-up.

I don't really understand.  Maybe it was the dependence I felt.  Maybe it was the feeling of needing it.

But I just started to hate it, at some point.  The whole thing felt weird.  It felt off.  The whole idea of going onto a stage.  Of needing approval.  Of being judged.

I guess I just lost my drive?  I don't know.  I don't know why I drifted away from stand-up. 
But I know how I feel now.

I feel like an astronaut, cut loose from my space station cord.  And now I'm just kind of...floating.

Floating through meaningless, infinite space. 

I know I'm not supposed to say that.  I'm supposed to have Vanessa, and her super cool daughter, and our families, and the kids in our community.  I'm supposed to have all these different reasons, to feel directed.  To feel a purpose.  To be driven to succeed.  To overcome the obstacles.

But it mostly just feels like I'm a speck of space-dirt.  And there's no momentum.  There's no inertia, anywhere in sight.  There's a general lack of purpose that has been created by the gaping hole where "stand-up" used to be.

I don't totally understand what people mean when they say they're "nihilistic," but it feels like roughly what this feels like.
I'm not saying I'll feel this way tomorrow.  Or even after lunch.

But this is part of the experience of a comedian quitting, and trying to become an everyday member of society again.

I don't think I'm crazy.  Just honest.  I would bet if professional athletes read this, they'll hear their own experiences echo through these words.  Any performer, really.

Some days are tough.  Because it feels meaningless, compared to the Fool's Gold of attention from strangers. 
It is not meaningless.  I am not going down without a fight. 

Honest writings like these are a part of my fight.  They help me to work through -- and eventually get past -- the experience of growing through my narcissism. 

To be honest about a difficult experience is to invite others into it. 

If you have a job, I don't know how much you enjoyed this blog.

If you're unemployed, who knows?  Maybe it helps you realize you don't need to be ashamed.  And that even a job at McDonald's is work.  With a paycheck.  And gives you purpose, and value. 

I don't know. 

I don't know.
Maybe this blog bummed you out.  But I can promise you -- it was better than if I just kept playing that app.

Anything is better than playing that app.

Now if you'll excuse me,

I'm going to go play that app.

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