I don't feel depressed.
And yet there is not a single aspect of my life that is giving me the slightest bit of satisfaction. Not a one.
Kids? Yes, but I see them only rarely. And the every-other-Sunday-night heartbreak of dropping them off at their mom's house is still new and hasn't become acceptable pain yet.
Home? I have the freedom to do what I want with my sudden vast assortment of time yet I have no idea what to do with my sudden vast assortment of time. Thus, precious little gets done. I have a decent enough apartment but it's in the wasteland of the suburbs. My office is an easy 2 miles away. I have great access to grocery stores, fast food emporiums, Target/WalMart and 2 freeways. Yip-ih-dee-doo! Ok, there's a Trader Joe's close by and it's empty and easy to navigate compared to the packed Portland counterparts. That IS a cool thing. But satisfaction is not dictated by Trader Joe's.
Trader Joe's palak paneer? A little runny. The cheese not quite firm enough. Recommended with reservations.
Socialityness? I went to a bunch of shows there for a while, but that's now ended. My circle of friends in town is tiny (despite the excellent and truly heroic and kind efforts of one Petunia). Oddly, I don't feel lonely (most of the time) but I do feel alone and disconnected. Not even sure how to start fixing it. I've met at least one new person who's company I really enjoy and with whom I think there is lasting connection and friendship possible, but even with them in person I feel awkward. Quiet. Uncertain. That's short-term acceptable as we were introduced to have a forum to air such post-divorce awkwardness. But long term it's not sustainable.
Work? It vaguely pays the bills but does not pay me in passion. And that's ok. I'm accepting. I've come to realize that I will never find a job in any field I'm really excited about, short of winning the lottery and being able to pursue acting full time WITHOUT having to deal with the nightmare rejection fiesta party that is auditioning. I'm not much on self-promotion. Could you tell?
Love? Yeah...um...no. Let's set aside the fact that I'm one month out from nearly a decade of marriage. Let's pretend that there can be no doubt that I'm open and ready for a relationship, whether it be short term super happy awesome fun or long term deeply satisfying good time fun/work. Ok? Are we pretending? Good. Now the inescapable fact: I'm functionally retarded. I can't flirt, I'm useless in bars, pick up lines are not my thing and they never will be. One person I do find attractive was recently complaining about not having guys hit on her. I told her flat out: look, you're attractive, I have interest, but I wouldn't have the slightest idea how to pursue you. And I think for most women in that situation functionally retarded just ain't gonna cut it. I'm fucking Cyrano de Bergerac. So...um...no.
I'd take satisfaction in any of the above areas. Single satisfaction would be fine. But I ain't got none of it.
Whine whine bitch moan patheticness. Pardon my dust while we remodel to serve you better.
-------------------------------------
(to clarify: I'm not having sex with Cyrano de Bergerac. I was merely comparing myself to him, only with awkwardness instead of a giant nose. I'm good in written form, except maybe on this page. And I don't mean to say that Cyrano isn't fuckable. On the contrary. I'm sure he would put the nose to good use. I need to stop typing now)
