Posts Tagged ‘Drama’






Where are we now?  Where are you now?

I imagine a good many people begin writing to try to sort it out. I know I’m not the only person on the planet that finds writing to be a helpful process by which to sort out one’s mind.

I’ve started reading blogs. I always fancied myself as being one who didn’t really like non-fiction. I figure this is probably due to my not really liking people in general.

Don’t get me wrong-¬†there are people I like intensely.¬† I also have a few that I love deeply (even non-intimately). There are groups of people with whom I am acquainted that I think are generally good, or trying to be.

Perhaps my life experiences have jaded me, but by in large, I don’t have much respect overall¬†for people. I have respect and regard for individuals I know personally.¬† But “people” as a whole, not so much.

I do, however, find people fascinating.

When I started blogging, I never thought I would enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing. Not that I am perfect by any means, and goodness knows typos happen (in spite of editing), but reading lengthy¬†writing that has murky grammar/punctuation can be challenging for me.¬† Much of that, I imagine, is visual, as I grapple with my eyesight and diminishing ability to distinguish patterns and such (one of the reasons I can’t much struggle through writing that is in all caps, for example, or all italics) which literally leaves me fatigued after a short amount of time trying to decipher text.

As a result, I’ve largely shied away from¬†reading¬†in the blogging world.¬† Besides, some people have been blogging literally for years and years, and I am inclined to want to read everything written so I can understand the writer.¬† If you have slow service, a slow machine, or not a lot of time,¬†this task can be daunting.

But then one day, it happened. I honestly don’t remember how, just that I was reading a blog, and that I was intrigued. That blog led to another and to another, as I began to see the “network” of support¬†materializing. And I realized that there were a lot of other people who, like me, started to blog as a means of untangling their thoughts, and many¬†who were writing completely anonymously.

When I started writing, my intent was also to vent.¬†I wanted to remain anonymous¬†so I could write honestly. I also don’t like to be sneaky; to hide things; or to play games.¬† So that meant, naturally, that my husband would know that I was blogging.¬† I had wanted to blog for several years, but he is pretty anti social media; he thought it would be a terrible idea, and to that end, he was not really on board with it all. (yes, he has the site, but I don’t know that he has read anything I’ve written, and he is really just¬†not interested)¬† I don’t think he’s so bothered by it now, though.

I have a lot to get out.¬† I’ve got a lot going on in my head most of the time. There’s a lot of stuff that has gone on-¬†and continues to go on-¬†in personal relationships -that leaves me¬†with a lot of crap to have to wade and¬†sift through and constantly try to reconcile within myself. I find myself angry much of the time when I think about it; still, all these years later. And given the ongoing issues because of people’s personalities, it’s not going to stop and it’s not going to change.¬† So I have to deal with it.

I’ve come to realize that there is something about this age. I don’t know if it’s physical age or emotional age, but it’s age nonetheless. Maybe it’s because many of the people I know are also this general¬†age.

The last several years, I have seen marriages that I thought were solid – dissolve.¬† I have seen wives and mothers, like myself, being forced into situations not of their choosing, and having to live with it and deal with it even though they don’t want to. Some of this is divorce resulting from infidelity; some of it is death of a spouse. Some of it’s just flat incompatibility; a relationship built on lust and not love or friendship. Either way, it’s the death of something; death of a marriage; death of a way of life; death of a dream; death of contentment or happiness.

It scares me.¬† So much so that I have had actual nightmares. Perhaps it’s an issue of control; perhaps it’s an issue of direction in that I know I have none outside of the life we have carefully carved out for ourselves. We live relatively drama free by design- until it comes¬†from other people.

I am not naive and think that things don’t change.¬† Indeed, it is *the* change I look forward to.¬† I, personally, thrive on change (so long as I can control it¬† :lol:).¬† It’s the lack of change in¬†some areas in my life (like location, for example) that drives me crazy.

Everything changes; all the time.¬† One cannot stop change. One can thwart progress, but that’s another post entirely.¬† ūüėÜ ¬†The key, in my opinion, is to understand it. And that is why I write.¬† That’s also why I keep reading.¬† Sometimes I even comment.¬† ūüėÄ

So back to age. Maybe it’s this period in life that allows people to feel like they’ve tried something sufficiently to know if it is or is not working for them. Maybe the kids are old enough to not be completely traumatized by the change. Maybe it’s the lack of kids coupled with the desire for them.¬†I don’t know.¬† But it just seems to me that there are a good many other people around this age¬†besides myself who are struggling to make sense of things.¬† Some are working on making positive changes within themselves, and I applaud them for their efforts.

Looking at oneself and not liking what you see is hard in of itself. But looking in and being willing to make an honest effort to change for the better- well, that’s fantastic. It seems it’s harder to look in after something has happened to you and you are being forced to look at it¬†and deal with it, as opposed to becoming a self-realized and better person.

One thing I have noticed is a tendency towards drama. After all, it makes for good reading material, right? ūüėČ Well, yes and no.

It’s one thing to read fiction and to know that the drama isn’t real.¬† It’s another thing entirely when you know there is a real person living that drama because of someone else’s actions. And others who are seeking the situation that causes drama for someone, even if they don’t intend it to be that way. And yet others who have moment-by-moment drama because of their own¬†actions.

Regardless, I find it interesting.¬† I find it sad.¬† I find it puzzling.¬† And sometimes I roll my eyes and think “Not again.¬† You’d think he/she would have learned the last ten times that stuff doesn’t work.” Drama is real, but it’s not real life, if that makes sense.

Real life is living and¬†(hopefully) loving while changing the dirty diapers; taking out the trash; paying the bills; doing the laundry;¬†mowing the lawn.¬† Real life is plumbing problems and flat tires.¬† Real life is getting older and having to address infirmities in mind and/or body. Real life is the stuff going on in the background while the drama is happening and the proverbial s**t is hitting the fan.¬† It may not feel like “living” to some, but it’s far better, in my opinion, than dealing with the constant drama.

Maybe it’s not an age.¬† Maybe it’s just life.¬† Maybe we all just struggle, all the time. And that’s not to say the struggle and the effort isn’t worth it.¬†¬†I think it is. I’d like to think there is a reason behind the struggle.¬† I just wish knew what it was.

For many, the achievement is coming out the other side of struggle;¬†overcoming adversity.¬† I, for one, am tired of the struggle. I am tired of having to deal with problems that come from people not doing their jobs, or not doing what they say they will do. I’m tired of wading through muck that makes no sense.

I guess I’d like this to be the age of enlightenment; the place where answers arrive and the veil is lifted. I’m not holding my breath, though. I can’t control anything outside of my own reactions (and sometimes, that’s a struggle too), and all too often I’m left recognizing the ignorance of those who shouldn’t be.

Don’t think I’m down or depressed, because really I am not.¬† I take comfort in knowing that struggle and challenge isn’t just happening to me. It makes me feel, for the lack of a better term, “normal.” It’s just a reflection of the human condition, I suppose, and that is encouraging.

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