Hitchiking From the Breakdown Lane....August 1, 1999

Hitchiking From the Breakdown Lane....August 1, 1999

For the better part of thirty years, I truly believed that misery should be the status quo of my existence. The origins of this stem from childhood, living in a military household with parents who did not want to be together, a mother who was manic depressive, and a father who hated his job, and hated the son I could not be. This, in combination with the torrent of being overweight in grade school, caused me to withdraw from the world and reconcile myself with the fact that for some reason, I deserved to hate living. This dogma continued as I entered a miserable marriage at the tender age of twenty. It was only after my divorce seven years later, and relationship with The Goddess, that I was finally able to experience joy. Further, I was also able to realize that I deserved to be happy on a regular basis. Getting there is not an easy task. Eliminating the sources of my dispair, both in the relationships with my family members, and my own degraded self image, has been painful.

Nevertheless, part of my journey of self discovery includes being cognisant of the few simple things I need that truly make my spirit content. On top of this list are the ability to play music, and the ability to write. This weekend, I was denied both, and was found floundering like a fish out of water.

I am confident that music does not affect people in the same way. Indeed, it is difficult to articulate the impact that music has on me. I can say that, given my sheer need for music, I believe it had a profound influence or importance on me in past lives. It calls to my soul. I cannot live without it, and there are few things I do during the day that do not include palying a CD. Music relaxes me, moves me, excites me, motivates me. It also inspires and aspires me.

This weekend, the cassette player in my car went on the fritz. In my daily work routine, I do a great deal of driving. Having to resort to listening to the local radio jock not only bores me, it grieves me. I cannot play the tapes I so laboursly made for the car. I have a hard time going to work without them. This could have dire financial consequences.

I am undergoing a transformation; I am finding the need to write unsatiable. When I am not writing my journal, I am writing lyrics, working on a book, or thinking of what I could be writing in all three. I rely solely on my computer as an outlet for this joyful creativity.

This weekend, my monitor breathed a heavy sigh and went black. Luckily, I was able to temporarily borrow one from Lowlandz (thanks, Bro), but not before I near lost my mind, and lost my motivation to write. Hence, I have been spending this week trying to get caught up.

When things break down in my life, things that I have defined as soul needs, I find it dificult to surpass the sorrow that is the consequence. Most people would remark that I should just get these things fixed. Most people are not getting married in just over a month. Even if I were not, I would be hard pressed to come up with the funds to fix my car stereo and get a new monitor. Further, when depressed, I find it difficult to work, which leads to even less resources. It can become an endless spiral.

Donations (heh heh) or words of encouragement are being graciously accepted. In the mean time, I will just have to let the DJ decide what I am to listen to, and hope that I do not end up with Lowlandz feeling taken advantage of.

Life must go on.

....Blessed Be