David’s Journal

Life just feels … kinda pointless.

I’m a hamster in a wheel.  I think I’m going places.  I’m trying to go places.  But the next day comes, the next week comes, the next month and year comes … and somehow, I’m still in exactly the same place.

Sure, some of the scenery has changed a bit.  That’s the illusion.  Just because things look different, at first glance, you’re tempted to think it is different.  But look more closely — or farther away — and you know what?  Different name, different day, same old shit.

Stuck in the same old patterns.

What’s the purpose of change?  Maybe there really is no real free will.  Maybe that’s the real illusion.  We make choices, we act on them … we consciously make an effort to be, do, or have something different today or tomorrow.  But when tomorrow gets here?  More of the same.

I’m stuck.

And I’m bored with life.

I think I was at work when I said it.  It just kinda welled up out of me, exiting my mouth, before I even had time to consciously filter what I was saying.  “I’m bored with life,” I said, nonchalantly, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, me too,” my co-worker admitted candidly, probably inspired by my brief moment of total honesty.

What really is there to live for?

You know, the other day (and prior to my outburst at work), God and I were having a little chat.  We talk about lots of things.  We talk often about the same things.  We sometimes talk about nothing at all.  But that night, sitting on a park bench overlooking a small canyon in the middle of suburbian San Diego, God asked me something.  A request.  He wanted me to start thinking about a higher purpose, a bigger picture, for my life.

Prior to that moment, mostly my focus had been on getting out of my problems.  Solving financial crisis.  And feeling connected again.  Being poor and broke is tough.  I wish it on nobody.  And it’s especially frustrating when you do everything you can — invest, start a business, change to a better job, save — and at the end of the day, still find yourself in the same stressful struggle, seemingly no matter what you do.

As if that journey wasn’t difficult enough, I’ve also felt very lonely for far too long.  I have friends.  They’re just scattered all over the country, and I miss seeing them.  Some I’ve never even met in person yet!  Others used to be the best of friends, and now, I can’t even get a hold of them on the phone!  I do what I can to meet people locally… and slowly, I am making new local friends.  But it’s not enough.  Some days the loneliness hollows me to the core.  Some days, I ask myself why I moved across the country in the first place, “just because,” not knowing anybody out here.

So I’ve been working on and focusing on things like that.  Healing up my heart, building relationships, feeling connected, managing and improving my financial situation, etc.  Mostly survival-based needs.  I’ve been in survival mode for so long now — since around the time I first moved out here, years ago — that I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be otherwise.

I can remember.  I can remember a time when the money was there — not abundant or overflowing by any means, but I was confident all my bills would be paid on time and in full.  I remember that being a non-issue, and I could focus on other, more important things.  Like having fun.  Like building my dream business.  Like dating pretty girls and making out in bed for hours, cuddling up, and falling asleep together.  I remember learning about God, religion, and spirituality because it was interesting to me … not because I needed it to fill some hole or solve some problem.  I remember sitting out on the grass under a tree with some friends, talking about anything and everything that interested us.

I miss those days.

The future was full of promise, hope, opportunity, and potential.

I remember those days.  My life journey has taken me so far since then, traveling so far, so far… from there.

Why?

What path is this?  Why am I on it, why did I come here?

Can I go back?  Should I go back?

My mom takes every opportunity to try to convince me that “clearly,” God wants me to move back to Florida.  I can stay with her, and everything will be great.

Unfortunately, she fails to realize one thing.  That’s her dream, not mine.  To my memory, she has never once asked me what I want.  She never asked if *I* want to move back to Florida.  She’s never asked where *I* want to live, or what *I* want to do with my life.  In the past, she might entertain a conversation on that subject, but really, she had her vision of who and where I should be, and always supported that vision with whatever “facts” and “evidence” she could find.

But has she asked what would make me happy?

Never once.  Not that I can recall, anyway.

My other friends have.  In fact, before I moved to San Diego, I seriously considered moving back to Florida.  It’s familiar territory, slightly cheaper to live, and many of my friends live there.  But my friends cautioned me on that.  “Is that what you really want to do?  Would that make you happy?”

One of my long-time Florida friends even said to me, “I’d love to have you back.  I really miss you.  But you love it there in California, you feel called out there, and I know you wouldn’t be happy in Florida for long.”

That’s love.  Putting the other person’s needs and considerations above your own.

Putting the other person’s happiness first.

And she’s right.  I’d be great seeing my friends in Florida … but honestly, I don’t want to be there.  Not to stay.  I’d love to visit and hang out for a while.  Maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months…  But after that?  Nothing in my heart or soul says Florida is where I need to be.

But this blog isn’t about where I want to or am going to live.

It’s about higher purpose, higher meaning, to it all.

And I’ve lost it.

When my basic needs were met with some degree of reasonable certainty and expectation, it was easy to ponder, explore, and focus on the higher things in life.  Reaching out to help others, building a business, following a dream…

It’s Maslow’s Heirarchy.  First comes food and shelter.  After that need is met, then you start caring about other things.

Right now, I have food and shelter.  The problem is the instability and uncertainty of it all.  Due to changes in the economy, I started actually losing money at my last job.  So I took action, found a much better, much higher paying job.  My hiring manager quoted to my face certain “average” numbers and “average” pay.  The “average” store got 4-5 actual customers per day, and if closed an “average” of 2 sales at the “average” sale price… I’d be very reasonably and easily making some $40,000 to $50,000 per year.  Woohoo!  Finally.

Except… again, changes in the economy, we’re not getting 4-5 people visiting the store “on average.”  Tuesday, for example, I had no one visit the store.  Not one soul.  I sat and babysat an empty store for 10 straight hours.  The day before that, Monday, I saw only a couple customers, and made just one sale, earning about $8 in commission.  It was a very small sale, much smaller than the “average” deal I was told about.  And what about Saturday and Sunday?  Weekends are busier in retail, right?  Try again.  I got to talk to only two customers the entire weekend, and made no sales.

I am not making $40-50,000 a year.  I’m not making $30,000 a year.

Right now, I’m earning minimum wage because, by law, they have to pay me something for being there.

And what’s the company doing about it?

I don’t know.  But rumor is, they don’t have the money to do any real advertising.  Which is a paradox to me, because how do they expect to generate more sales if people don’t know about us?

Worse still, it seems, one or more (I’ve heard rumor of at least three) stores are behind on their rent.  Yikes.

Danger Will Robinson, Danger!

The economy sucks.  Major corporations are doing everything they can to avoid bankruptcy.  And I’m worried my own employer might be going out of business too.  Upper management assures me that’s not the case.  They’re a strong company, have a long history, and won’t go out without a fight.

Sorry, but scaling back advertising to “save money” doesn’t seem like a good fight to me.

My last employer was in danger of going out of business too.  They’re a courier company, as you may recall.  With rising gas prices and declining business activity, I know the owners are doing everything they can to keep afloat.

So I’m not the only one struggling to survive.  And to get a clear picture, I’m actually doing much better than some.  One co-worker was really starting to panic.  He was used to earning $40,000+ a year at the company, and now he’s on minimum wage too.  Except he’s got a kid to support, and no other income.  At least for me, if everything falls to shit, I’ve got only myself to worry about.  I can live in my car or something.  But people who have families?  That’s really tough.

Will more and more companies be going out of business in the future?

What’s going to happen when 75 or so million baby boomers enter retirement?  They’ve been investing in stocks and mutual funds all these years — and by law, they have to start selling and withdrawing by age 70 and 1/2.  Imagine 75+ million people selling stock month after month.  Who’s going to buy up all those shares?  My generation?  Hah!  We’re drowning in debt.  We have no disposable cash.  No money to invest with.

Which means, as we enter the upcoming years, the overall stock market will continue to go down, down, down.

And Social Security is on the brink of bankruptcy.  And how is this country going to pay for medical care for all those aging retirees?  The US dollar is falling.  Oil keeps rising.  Banks are becoming more and more selective on who they issue credit to.  It’s their own damn fault.  Giving out all those mortgages they knew people couldn’t afford.

The Fourth Turning is upon us. (*See book for reference.)

They say my generation is going to lead the next generation through the world crisis ahead.  My generation has grown up in a world of shooting rampages at school.  We’ve never known a world without AIDS or STDs.  We don’t trust our politicians.  We don’t believe in the system; it’s failed us too many times.  We don’t know of company loyalty and don’t understand it.  We don’t know of job security like our parents once had.  Our parents could go to school and get an MBA, graduate, and have a good job with benefits waiting for them.  Now, there are no jobs.  People with BAs and MBAs are working the same no-benefits, low-paying jobs as the rest of us.  Not all of us.  But many of us.  Just the other day, a co-worker was asking me about the benefit of college degrees.  He doesn’t have one.  Some of his friends do.  But they’re all working the same level and quality of job.

I hope I’m wrong.  I hope something magical happens.  Some supernatural miracle.  Or something.  I hope things turn around.  I hope the banks clean up their credit mess, without the Federal Reserve just printing up billions of dollars to “bail them out,” meanwhile accelerating inflation and weakening the dollar even more.  I hope the economy turns around, the stock market picks up, business booms, and baby boomers all retire safely, comfortably, and with plenty of income and medical care.

I hope we get some good, honest politicians in power, who really do take that high honor and position of power and use it for the greater good of all.

I hope there is no crisis.  I hope we find some clean, extremely cheap, readily available, automatically convertible alternative to oil.  I hope the shootings stop in school.  The bombings stop in cities.  I hope we feel safe again.

I want to feel safe again.

The truth is, it doesn’t really matter what’s going on outside.  Or not going on outside.  The truth is, we can feel safe or stressful at any time, with or without reason.  It’s a choice.

Obviously, certain external conditions make it easier to feel one way or the other.

But the bottom line is, ultimately, we’re in control of our own thoughts.  And therefore, ultimately, we’re in control of our own feelings.  That seems to me to be the only things we actually, truly, do have any real control over.  And it’s not always easy.

If we’re used to thinking or feeling a certain way, it’s hard and unnatural to think or consistently feel differently.  For me, I’ve been in struggle and survival mode for so long now, it’s hard and unnatural to think, see, and feel differently now.  I’m trying.  I’m successful some days, and at moments.  But then another customer-less day at work happens.  And I summon every bit of strength within me to try to stay positive and focus on the good.  Not worry.  Find a better solution.

I did start investing.  In my Patterns blog, I said I was going to turn myself around by investing.  I have started that.  It’s actually a lot of fun.  Some days I make money, other days I lose money.  Both days are fun, actually, although the profitable days are significantly more fun. :)

I don’t know what I’m going to do.  I don’t know what I want to do.  For now, I’m hanging onto this job, earning minimum wage, with the theoretical possibility of earning more if/when commission sales do happen.  Is the company going out of business?  Who knows.  I just don’t care any more.

I don’t want another job.

I’m tired of fighting.

Maybe this is just a temporary thing to hold me over.  Maybe I’ll be really successful with my investing, and before the company goes under, I can quit and be a full-time investor.  That’s a life I’d enjoy a lot more.  I’ve always wanted to be an investor.  Stocks, real estate, startup businesses, you name it.  I want to be an angel investor.  I want to create things, support things, help be a part of the system that makes things happen.

Anyway.

Dreams.

I don’t know why I bother.

I guess it’s the only thing keeping me going.

I’m really short on hope these days.  Hope has been gradually, slowly declining over the months and years.  I keep trying.  And with every failed attempt, I lose a little more hope.

I give up trying to be a spiritual leader or teacher of any kind.  I give up trying to be an inspiration or guide or role model of any kind.  Don’t follow me.  Don’t look to me for advice or inspiration or motivation.  I have none left to give.  I’m a mess.  And I admit it.

I’m my own worst enemy.

I know what I want but I’m afraid to get it.

Afraid it might hurt me.

I’m talking about sex, relationships, money, dreams, businesses, hopes, and bigger dreams — the kinds of dreams that used to inspire my soul like nothing else.  The kinds of dreams that could cost everything, and if I failed, would cost everything.

I’m a fool.

I’m almost dead inside.  I can’t go after the things that used to make me feel alive.  I’m afraid of them, it won’t work, and I’ll just fall short and end up hurting… again.

But I’m bored with my life.  I’m in a frickin hamster wheel, going nowhere, wearing myself out in the process.

But you know what?  Death isn’t necessarily a bad thing.  I can clear out the old and make room for the new.

Who am I kidding?

Fuck this.

Change?  Redefine myself, or a vision for my life?  Bullshit.

Been there, done that.

Let’s be honest David.

You suck.

You’ve tried.  You’ve tried, you’ve tried, you’ve tried.

And you’ve failed.  You’ve failed, you’ve failed, you’ve failed.

You’re nothing.

You can’t do it.

You’re not strong enough, smart enough, fast enough, reliable enough, dependable enough…  You’re afraid of commitment, you know it all but won’t or can’t do it all, you’re nothing, face it, you’ll never amount to anything at all.  You’ve failed.  And your misery proves it.

Done.

…

…

.. ouch ..

:(

My heart hurts.

My heart hurts…

I need help.

If I could fight these demons on my own, I would have defeated them by now.

I’m not… I…  I’m not Superman, you know. :)  I’m not invincible.  My strength is limited.  I guess I’m just saying, I really need help.  Someone, somewhere, somehow.  I dunno.  I dunno what to do, or how to do, or what.  I need someone to carry me for a while.  I want someone to hold me and take care of me for a little while.  I… on this journey, I collapse.

And here on this dirt gravel road, I rest, face in the dirt, waiting, unmoving, broken… I don’t expect anyone to come.  If they could or would help me, they would’ve already.  Some of them I’ve carried before, and I know how weak and hurting and broken they are too.  Worse than I.  I don’t blame them.  I don’t expect or ask anything of them.

I Blame the One who Sent Me. Here.

This planet is no place for an angel by itself.

There are far too many hurting, far too many scared, far too many alone and lost or confused.

Love is so precious and so rare on this planet.  Like a drop of rain or tiny driveled up creek in the middle of a harsh and dry desert.  So few, so rare, so scarce.  So little does it exist here.

I came to bring more.

But the desert got to me.

Now I need it just like them.

Don’t forget Me.

Please.

…

~alohalolle

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