On Hope and Desperation.

The power was out for three hours tonight. Nothing major, really. Just light rain outside. Who knows what caused it. Lit some candles and realized, “Holy shit, I can see!” Searched for some cards to maybe I could play solitaire, but all I could find were Uno and Pinochle.

It caused me to bring out my journal. To my disappointment, I’ve written less and less over the years. I blame it mostly on the fact that it’s a shit-ton faster to type out things than to write by hand. But there’s something very centering about writing by hand. You can’t just write down every little word that comes to mind. You’re forced to be concise and clear in as few words as possible. Concurrently, since your hands is moving so slowly, you end up rethinking what you want to say at least five times before it ends up on paper. I know I’ve had a lot of realizations while typing, but.. there’s just something else that places me right IN THE MOMENT when I have a pen in my hand.

I’ve been depressed. I mention this periodically, but it’s a fact. I do recognize that I’m far more likely to reach for my pen when I’m feeling down, as opposed to when I’m feeling happy. After all, journals are meant to be private, tucked away, for the thoughts maybe we don’t WANT to share with the world. And honestly, I don’t think my depression’s that bad. It’s simply the fact that ACKNOWLEDGING this fact is terribly important. I hide in plain sight by sometimes joking, “If it weren’t for comic relief, I would have killed myself years ago.” How much truth there is to that, I don’t know, but I do know I wouldn’t be sane without my sense of humor.

Something jumped out to me as I reread my sparse entries. The desperation, and clear lack of hope. Even as recently as 2007, I still hadn’t found hope. I was hoping for hope. I know that when I was down in that hole, the bottom of the emotional heap, that moment of inspiration, I don’t know whether I actually believed I’d make it. But, back against the wall, I knew I couldn’t give up.

But sadly, since then, there HAVE been times when I’ve given up. Such a sense of shame I carry with me at times.

Trying not to give up is not hope. Trying not to give up is a move of desperation. I didn’t really know if I’d make it, but I had to try.

Hope? Hope is actually believing you’ll actually make it. I don’t know how much hope I have, but now and then, I feel glimmers of it. Despite everything I remind myself that I’ve accomplished, am capable of, and can deal with, I still feel very weak. I still feel like my outlook is very dim.

Not giving up is trying to stay one step ahead of the dark clouds. Clawing, inch by inch. Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s arrogance, deciding that if I’m going to go down, I’ll go down in a blaze of glory. Maybe it’s knowing that not fighting is so much worse. Knowing where I’ve been and that I don’t want to be there again.

But hope? Some things I believe, yes. But the big picture hope, I .. I don’t know. Will all this shit work out?

Look, I talk a strong talk. Sometimes I believe it, sometimes.. I don’t know. But do you understand why it’s so strong? Why it’s so melodramatic? That’s the strength it takes. For as weak as I am, that’s how strong my strength of will has to be to fight the fears inside me.

I was looking at some entries from 2006/2007. Lots of sentiments, feelings of how I wouldn’t make it. I know it’s complex to answer why there’s been a shift, I understand it to a degree. But the big picture is that beyond me running from the dark clouds, part of me believes I’ll make it. Whether it’s belief in myself to endure any obstacle, or just believing that my goals or achievable, I don’t know. I can’t convince myself of false things readily. So let me tell you, it’s a LOT easier to push myself to do difficult or intimidating things if I believe I can make it.

Okay, now this entry is starting to be a little scatterbrained. Oh well. More and more, I’m realizing how being a manager has done wonders for my self-confidence. I can’t believe I asked my boss three years ago, “Do you think I can do this?” That just seems so… I would not say that at all now. Lots of unexpected things happen at work, and I walk into work every single day knowing that I’m like a boss. I know it’s an internet meme joke, but seriously. The ability to deal with the unexpected is not an easy skill to learn. We like to joke, “I got this.”

When we’re young, we think other people are smarter than us. That somehow they know more than us. At some point, I realized, “Wait. They aren’t perfect. At some point, they didn’t know all this shit. If they can do it, I can, they’re not better than I am.” The only difference is knowledge and experience. Walk the walk, and suddenly you can talk the talk.

“Hope, it is the quintessential human delusion, simultaneously the source of your greatest strength, and your greatest weakness.”

No.. When I think further, I wasn’t completely void of hope. Meh, it’s complicated. I think my goals changed. My goal then is still something that will make me rise up if I feel in a dark corner, but I don’t think it’ll happen anymore. This… This is for me. All I’ve ever wanted is to be okay. Balance comes and goes, but I’m having more balance than I’ve had in recent memory. I’m just more willing to explore my moods, whereever they lead.

I got this.