Funny, not funny, it's interesting that whenever I listen to Audra, I find myself in a mood to write. Bret Helm is one of the most under-appreciated, and superbly talented story tellers of my time. I have often wondered, does Bret write poetry, or prose? Concluding, that whatever he were to write would be a fascinating journey into a world rich with anecdotes, captured moments, and intrinsic connections with random people. If ever a song is written about body builders at a goth party, I will find myself transported to an incredible night. Whether you a part of that moment or not, you can't walk away from an Audra song without wondering, "who was heard in a dark room", "who possesses the eyes of that blue curtain on the second floor", "who is the subject of Wish No Harm"... snapshots from a life that an artist captured in words. It all feels real... especially when 'real' is omnipresent and the trappings of life are peeled away to expose the fragile and delicate nature of our survival.
I'm here, on a Friday night, exactly 4 weeks after working my last day with the former employer. Officially using my severance package as income at this point; and its finite nature is a ticking clock that weighs a thousand pounds and is strapped to my shoulders. I'm applying at roughly a dozen jobs a week that I especially qualified for, but as of yet, nothing but a handful of denials. Everyone I spent eight years with, and all of those I befriended and helped in my last five months have instantly become strangers to me. It's pretty depressing when you meet the real value of your friendship, it's a devastating blow to one's ego.
There are positives, I've relieved the added pressure of doing domestics from the rest of the household, but my favorite part is being to spend more time with my son. Obviously, I didn't have the worry of trying to travel as The South became The North for a week. Having to navigate the continuation of health coverage gave me reason to focus on getting some things taken care of. I've also had more time to look at our money; investments, insurance, taxes, etc. Normally that would have come at a stressful time or just been ignored, but time is all I have now. I also have filmed quite a bit... but not edited a damn thing, so all of that is still to come.
I've realized that when I was at work, I so often thought about what I'd rather be doing. That's normal, I get it. But now that the time is all mine, it feels de-incentivized to do any of it. I realize that filming, buying music, doing me things were rewards to myself for being employed. Now I don't feel worthy of reward. Really digging in to those self-worth issues that I never address, and only occasionally realize. Being an employee of former employer defined my self-worth. I can't describe how disgusting that makes me feel about myself. What does that say about my family, my many thousands pieces of music, my Rozz Williams collection? It says my priorities are in a fucked state... still at nearly 50 years of age, my identity is dictated by working passionately for someone else that didn't care a whole heck of a lot about me. I don't feel like I had a choice, but I know that can't possibly be true, I just didn't see it. That's admittedly frightening.
I'm someone that functions well when there is control. Not being in control - being in situations that are controlled. It takes a lot for me allow myself to not be cautious, it stands out as the one precise descriptor my dad ever labeled me with, "cautious". He said it only once; to me anyway, but I've never forgotten it. This world and helpfully pernicious people often have the switches that quickly flip caution to reckless, and you don't have to try very hard to find them. Leave your house, go to the place that still has activity when most sane people sleep and they are there. But my time there is an even less-defined phantom than my childhood. Often, when I am sitting still in a running car peering through fogging windows at blurring street lights, I find myself envious of those safe in sanitariums permanently lost in another place, infrequently tugged back into a functioning world with dotted i's and crossed t's. Caution isn't an option, you are just somewhere else. Anyone that knows me, has ever known me, a lack of control is not my forte'... it takes a lot, and has a lot to do with trust. Those aforementioned "helpful people" were given my keys and the journey we took was down a lot of one-way, dead-end streets, and it was awhile before I realized no one was driving the car.
Anyway, this post has derailed, I'm just caught up in the uncertainty of this situation. Having a bit of a pity party. Something will present itself, everyone is saying so.
Listening to: Audra - 'Everything Changes'
No comments:
Post a Comment