The Abyss

I have a friend who graduated this past winter.  He sits at his parents' house, lives in his same room in the basement, and applies weekly for jobs in the major in which he graduated.  He and I recently have connected; the heaviness of stagnation was smothering him, so I would come over and watch movies until early into the morning.  I would leave bleary-eyed, hoping that I at least distracted him from the emptiness I knew he was feeling on a daily basis.

It was easy for me to see myself as the hero in this scenario.  I was going over to his house as some one who had a real job.  I had come out of my slump, out of my stagnate period.  I could go to his house and try to show him there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

My last day as a teacher has gone, gone really quite a long time ago.  Now I'm back to the almost daily grind of going back to my retail job, having a random schedule, and not knowing what I'm doing from one week or another.  The last day I was teaching was hard for me.  Saying goodbye to students; taking a few pictures; grading final papers.  But the week after my last day was harder still.  That emptiness that crowded into my friend's life was now bearing down on me.  It trapped me and made it hard for me to want to do much of anything (and the more I did nothing, the unhappier I became).

It still has a hold of me in many ways.  Although I knew my teaching job was temporary, it at least reaffirmed what I wanted to do with my life.  It gave me a drive again.  But now my life is in flux, completely.  It's like the day after graduation (which Rebekah so skillfully described, as usual).  Everything about my life has been temporary since that day--where I'm living, my job, my goals.

That light at the end of the tunnel I thought I had achieved has suddenly faded, and now I'm left in the dark tunnel again.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to start eating rat poison tonight.  On the contrary, I understand my position in life is both depressing and envious.  I'm a blank slate.  I'm a feather on the wind.  I can start fresh in almost any direction.  That freedom is what is so nice and yet so oppressive about my current situation.

My daily creed has become, "I can do only what I can do," and that has become a great comfort in my life.  That, and knowing that things will turn out all right in the end.  My story has been written, and even though I can't turn to the last chapter to consult with my future self, I know that whatever is there has been written with a purpose.  And all though I am staring into the abyss, and it is staring right back, I can't forget that I do have a purpose. It may be obstructed some by the seemingly pointlessness of my life, but it's there all the same.  And it's a nice place to put my head at night.

-M&y

(Ps. sorry there is a lack of snark tonight.  It will return soon, this I can promise)