Seeking joy and meaning in a joyless mind and meaningless existence

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Just Another

I have decided to start another blog, even though the global readership of my last two endeavors was about four people. I realize that in the almost three years since I last posted, I have launched myself from techie avant-garde and landed irretrievably into passé. I know I should be Twittering the fascinating minutiae of my life on my Crackberry every fifteen minutes: "Long line at the bank!" or "OMG! Totally pigged out at lunch!" or "Sure glad it's Friday!" But I just don't have the strength. Besides, my cell is an ancient flip that doesn't even text, and that's what Facebook is for, anyway.

Go East...

I have all but decided to move back to Memphis. I have lived in Los Angeles for almost ten years now and have nothing to show for it other than a drug habit, alcoholism and a filthy apartment. I can remain here and continue on as the Queen of Shadow and Emptiness, living year after year in quiet despair in an exotic locale. Or I can head back east to the not-to-be-underestimated comforts of family and several good friends. In fact, as sad as it is to say, I have more friends in Memphis now than I have after a decade in Hollywood. Every shrink, psychiatrist and rehab counselor I have had out here has said the same thing: You need to improve your social support to improve your psychological space. (As if my social isolation were a lifestyle choice...) And frankly, the best chance I have for continued sobriety and generally getting my shit in one sock is to move some place where said social support is already in place.

...Young Man!

I turned forty about three and a half weeks ago. I didn't exactly dread the day as some do. But I definitely have all the signs of a midlife crisis. First of all, I don't have the foggiest inkling of what the hell I should be doing with my life any more than I did twenty years ago. I mean I know what I want to do, but have no idea how to make it happen. Second, I've been obsessing about death in ways I haven't since I was in college. It's not so much the "When" that bothers me as it is the "How." And as far as the "What" is concerned, the prospect of oblivion or unbeing doesn't frighten me. In fact, I find that possibility comforting. It's all the infinite "Could Be's" that terrify me.

Personal Roundup

In future posts and in general, it is my intention to make this blog less self-directed and not spend every post wallowing in self-absorbed misery. Don't get me wrong, at some level, it's always going to be about Me! Me! Me!!! But I will try to make this blog more interesting to people--Oh, say anyone other than myself--in the hopes of making it a more attractive read. Notwithstanding that, I will post a barometer of my well-being in the form of the the items below. Perhaps such a disclosure will help me trend towards the positive (as in "I'm positive I'm a fat drunk!")

Today's score is...

Days sober: 4
Weight: 240 pounds
Waist: 47.5 inches