Tough day today, he thought to himself.
It was so hard to focus on the positives sometimes. He knew full well that letting it all get him down was totally counterproductive, but try as he might, it was just killing him today. He needed to write it down, get it out, give it a tangible form. Maybe then he could put it in its place. He didn’t want to be angry any more.
He got out his beat up notebook, a trendy Moleskine, and began to write in his angular, stilted hand.
I am upset. Sometimes I am angry. Sometimes I am sad. But mostly, I am simply upset. Off balance and out of sorts. Like the ground is constantly shifting underneath me. Like I can’t find a solid place from which to begin even making progress. Like nobody understands that I am hurting.
He re-read the short paragraph. It didn’t make him feel any better having it there in graphite in front of his eyes, but it didn’t make him feel any worse. He decided to name the things that were upsetting him, and scribbled the word “Bad” on the page.
No money. No job. No education. I live with my parents – no longer have a house of my own. I have children that are cautiously affectionate, unsure of where they stand. A bitter ex-wife incapable of understanding that I left her, not the children. A bitter ex-wife incapable of mentally separating herself from the children. A family that doesn’t know how to be supportive, that doesn’t always know how to show love. A girlfriend a thousand miles away.
Thinking of her, so far away, always weighed on his heart. The times between visits were eternities in hell. Sure, they talked, and emailed, and communicated, and shared the highs and lows of each other’s days, but there was no hugs, no physical comfort. He still didn’t feel better, but he felt as if something were being done.
Catharsis, he knew, wasn’t always instant.
He flipped the page, and scrawled the word “Good!” across the top of the page.
I’m healthy. I’m only 33, well 34 in less than a week, I’m still young. I’m pretty smart. I’m not bad looking. I have a beautiful, intelligent, wonderful girlfriend – one that truly loves me and supports me – that wants me to grow. She won’t be a thousand miles away forever. I have children that love me. I have a family. I still have the boat, despite the ex’s best efforts do deprive me of even that joy.
He closed the notebook. Catharsis escaped him for the time being, but at least he had done something.