I feel stale.
Stale like an opened pack of graham crackers that you put back in the box, forgot about and then went back to eat and realized you left the plastic wrapper open and you eat the graham crackers anyway, but you wish you had some milk because that would help camouflage that dull chew of stale graham crackers.
Stale and running on fumes. You know what is frustrating? Knowing that I am depleted and feeling no desire to rejuvenate myself. This sort of inertia–the cognizance of it–is very painful. From my shitorgetoffthepot perspective, I am badgering myself to either kill myself or find happiness if it kills me.
I have spent some time thinking about how I define happiness and I keep coming back to the question, “Who cares about being happy?” I seriously can’t understand what the point is in being happy. Happiness, to me, feels like an obligation I have zero desire in pursuing. This persistent numbness is draining my energy. I never thought I’d be facing some existential crisis. Mainly, I find this sort of navel-gazing a waste of time and egotistical. It reeks of some sort of “Whooooooa is me” that does nothing to change the world or make things better for humankind.
Is that too lofty? It’s too lofty. I don’t care about being happy, but I still wish for world peace when I blow out the candles on my birthday cake. There is some value somewhere in my mind that tells me that making others happy is important. What the fuck does that mean?
I think it means that I find power in having purpose. I believe that wanting purpose is core to being human. I suppose that the more I contemplate purpose, the more I will find my path to happiness. I feel like Sophia in Season 6, Episode 8 of the Golden Girls. In this episode, Sophia enters a convent after her close friend, a nun, dies. Sophia is thirsting for purpose and believes that God called her into The Order. The other women reluctantly oblige her while questioning if she is sane, authentic or really clear on what she’s getting into. She passes the Rorschach test the “admissions” sister gives her and she’s in. Sophia, of course, is Sophia so she causes all sorts of shit in the convent. So much so, that Mother Superior tells Dorothy that they want her out. In Sophia’s room, Dorothy breaks the news to her mother and Sophia is so disappointed. She laments that she has a life without purpose. Dorothy counters and says that she does indeed have a purposeful life and lists all the things Sophia does that happen without being part of a convent. Touching as fuck.
I think what I learned from all of this is….I’m really more like Sophia than Dorothy. Not really, but then there was the episode when Dorothy and Rose get into it with a plumber and the guy storms out leaving their new uninstalled toilet in the living room. Sophia walks in and well…watch for yourself at the 2:20 mark. No truer words have been spoken.