I am not depressed; just miserable

Last night, I felt the world turn as though going in a downward swirl. For a moment, I felt as though somebody was flushing me down the toilet along with all the undesirable things in the world. Then I looked up, and I realized that I was not being flushed by somebody, it was actually I who had been grabbing the rod triggering the flushing.

Who would be so stupid to do that? I thought. Well, obviously, that would be me.

Then I wondered.

You see, as what J. Gitomer once said, “Obstacles can’t stop you. Problems can’t stop you. Most of all, other people can’t stop you. Only you can stop you.”

This brings me to my life focus for the past few years. To be unstoppable. For several years, I believe I was quite unstoppable. I juggled three jobs, made everything work out, and for the longest time I just ignored that growing mass of black goo growing at my feet. Burnout, stress, fatigue, and the impeding doom called unhappiness.

I do not know what made me look down and stare at the black goo. Maybe it was because some friends were getting appalled by the size of the goo, or maybe it was because they just pointed out that perhaps I should sit for a while before the goo got bigger.

But the problem is, I am a hard headed person. Apart from that, I am the epitome of the Cowardly Lion. I was scared. I was not scared of the black goo, hell no, I was not scared of the goo at all. I was scared, however, of letting people down, of not being able to provide, and of not being able to survive. I am a survivor, I know, but what about the other people who are counting on me? So I pushed on. I thought that maybe if I pushed harder, moved faster, kept myself busy, that eventually the black goo would go away and leave me alone.

Obviously, when I started ignoring what my body was telling me, I failed to notice all the changes and soon enough, by the time I blinked and stopped at the nearby concession stand, I was waist deep in black goo.

The thing is, I am not really happy with all this movement, stress, and goal of being “unstoppable.” While it is true that nobody else is responsible for stopping us, I think at the end of the day, it is still up to each of us to stop ourselves before going overboard. I do not have a problem with stopping. I do like stopping. Stopping makes me feel happier, better, and less mopey. Of course, when I strolled instead of sprinting, the black goo started to disappear little by little.

UNTIL… Well, responsibilities and obligations gave me the wake up call and as though I was a child caught with my hand in the cookie jar, I sprinted as fast as I could in panic.

Guess what?

I am now neck deep in black goo.

But no, I am not depressed. I am miserable. I know how to stop myself, and I want to stop myself.

But gosh darn it! Somebody should give this Cowardly Lion some good old potion of courage from Getafix or the Wizard of Oz!!

Courage tonic ~ Priceless

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