And on it goes.
I haven’t been on this site in so long. It feels so familiar, yet alien now. I’m unsure what I’m hoping to achieve from writing this update. It is, of course, largely for myself - as my old acquaintances from here, I imagine, have perhaps moved on or decided to unfollow what seemed to be a dead blog. Perhaps forgotten about it, and by extension, its curator. I never really had a following, as it were, so what “isn’t” cannot be lost. To those who might still be around, I extend a “Hi, how are you?”
Much has changed and much has not. That is to say I’m basically the same person I was when I last used tumblr, plus or minus a few battle scars. Some aches have healed, others have grown, morphed, split, tucked themselves deep down out of reach or squirmed and uglied their way up into my daily-carry. “And on it goes.”
I felt it might be a kind of therapy to get my thoughts out in some way, never mind if they fell on receptive ears, and tumblr was the only place back in the day where I was just faceless enough to have the courage to be, for the most part, sincere about my feelings and mental well-being. I suppose that fact still remains.
So, I’ve just got some things that need saying, to and for no one in particular, save for yours truly.
Five (and a half) years ago, I lost my father to a short battle with cancer. These things happen, I suppose, and it was not an easy time, but I’ve accepted it as well as anyone could be expected to. I believe, anyway. To tell the truth, I don’t know whether or not I have processed the grief attached to that episode in a meaningful way. It’s just as possible that I’ve only successfully tamped down the visceral reactions one might have in the months and years following the loss of a parent. As it stands, I don’t get too hung up on my dad’s death theses days. It’s one of those distant fractures now and, aside from the occasional bad dream or passing wish, it does not trouble me. Though, that’s not to say that this wound won’t open again someday. I wouldn’t be surprised.
Regrettably, the losses did not end with my father. In the years since, both of my biological grandmothers have passed. My mom’s mom a few years ago and then my dad’s - summer of last year. I can certainly say I haven’t come close to processing that last one. My paternal grandmother was such a staple in my life. I had no warning to speak of. It just happened and left me so turned around I couldn’t even think of grieving properly. I guess that’s coming one of these days. Who knows? My emotions are so mercurial. They are there, if “there” is a mist pooling behind a thick plane of glass - odd holes drilled through at irregular distances, offering a hint of connection, but no true tangibility to speak of.
I expect to face the reality of that event when I’m least expecting it. Since her death, my grandfather, who was married to his wife for some forty years, lost his ability to care for himself and is now in a home, fighting Alzheimer’s and unable, half the time, to remember that his wife is no longer around. As a result of his condition, he has lost his home and most everything in it. A house I spent a large portion of my life visiting and cherishing. To round out all this, my great grandmother also died early last year. It has been a ride.
There have been triumphs, surprisingly enough, in all this mess. I am able to make a proper living, in that I am not without what I need to survive. I am by no means well off, by the “american standard” at least, but I do not want for the necessities and that’s about as much as I can hope for in a world where class inequality is so apparent, yet so ignored. I have built some lovely friendships (and lost a few.) I’ve had a few very rewarding adventures and am looking forward to more in the not-so-distant future. I’ve made some headway in the production of my art, though with great pains, I must say. Good things are on the way in that regard, if all goes well. This is not a full list, by any means, of all the good in my life. I am privileged, suffice it to say.
I have a ways to go. I am overwhelmingly cognizant of this. I am unwell these days, but I am not hopeless and I aim to steer clear of total complacency. Nothing will improve without a sincere effort on my part. The motivation to work comes and goes, as wind, as water. It has not gone from my mind and I will make use of it until living is no longer a chore and then I will continue to do so.
There is much more to be said, but this should do for now. I simply can’t seem to organize my thoughts into words anymore. One step at a time... For the unwarranted essay, I do apologize. If you made it this far, I wish you well and I thank you. Much love my friends. Be well.
