The other day I started a post about ‘rediscovering myself’ and never finished it. It was basically a list of stuff that I enjoy in life, in an attempt to reclaim my sense of self, if that cliche makes sense. I started writing it because I’ve been feeling quite miserable lately and don’t seem to be able to dig myself out of that hole.
But thinking on it some more, I realised that many of those things don’t really bring me much joy or happiness anyway. There isn’t that much that really makes me laugh, or gives me any sense of fulfilment. It just doesn’t seem to matter what I do.
Why? I realised that I’m a massive paradox.
I’m a loner, who enjoys his own company a lot.
At work, I’m surrounded by and interacting with people all day – and I find it exhausting.
I come home to a wife and child who ostensibly both care about me a great deal.
And yet despite all that, I am lonely and sad, and don’t feel any really deep sense of connection to anyone. It’s all just so damn superficial and pathetic.
Somehow, I keep putting one foot forward, then the next, and pushing into the wind.