When I began this weblog, several years ago, I never imagined it would turn into the chronicles of Debby Downer. I had periods of depression throughout my life, but it was somewhat joyful for the most part. It wasn’t until moving back to the US from Taiwan, about eight years ago, that it took hold of me at the most intense level. I now find myself deep in despair, unable to climb out of what I perceive as a bottomless pit of misery. I cannot say for sure that any part of my predicament was caused by external influences.
On the other hand, I can state with complete certainty that there haven’t been any environmental factors which have inspired me toward a more positive disposition. I go through each day unable to shake this strong doom-and-gloom feeling. I know that I cannot bring myself out of it alone, and I have little hope that others around me will do or say the things which will help me find happiness once again.
Since my mid-thirties I have found myself in plentiful circumstances that would push most people over the edge, yet I found the fortitude to push on and keep a stiff upper lip. I liken it to my attempts at DIY home improvement. Every time I take on a project, I find myself taking one step forward and two steps backward. I have pushed forward, though, eventually completing the projects. Everything in my life has been that way, too.
Before my current marriage, I dated several women. Although many of those relationships grew close, they didn’t end in marriage. Strangely, my last three girlfriends married the next guy they dated after me. I don’t know if that says anything about me. Maybe they figured if they could survive a relationship with me, they could certainly have a successful relationship with anyone else. Or, perhaps, it was just a coincidence. I know that it was a coincidence that I dated several girls whose names began with the letter “T”. In order, there was Taryn, Terry, Terilee, Tara (my first wife) and then Shu Mei (my current wife) used the name Terry when she taught English before meeting me.
Some things might be coincidences and, then again, they might not be. Back when I worked for the airline, at the gates, I surmised that there is a common connection among people that makes them act similarly. Specifically, on a certain day, I had many people coming up to me and asking the same questions, without having any perceivable connection to one another. People coming in from various flights throughout America, from different locations in the concourses seemed to be asking the same questions. One day, I had dozens of people ask me where the nearest restroom was during my work shift, whereas only a few had done so on the previous day. Another day, an inordinate amount of people would ask me what time it was. Then, on yet another day, scores of people asked me where the nearest smoking area was. Now, those questions were always asked, but not at a rate I’m talking about. Because the frequency was far more pronounced than most days, those particular days stood out to me. They made me wonder why it was that it was happening. It probably was coincidental. But, to this day, it remains as an odd thing to me.
I tend to meander from thought to thought through each day. How I write on this weblog is no different. I figure it doesn’t matter anyway, as nobody will read this. It is highly plausible that shortly after I die the website will be taken down when nobody pays for it, and all of these thoughts will go back into the nothingness from which they came. The internal narrative I carry around inside of me longs to make the world a better place, but I quickly lose hope when I find myself unable to take action.