There was a provincial election this past week here in Ontario, Canada. Despite all the allegations of corruption, false promises, and attack ads in the lead up to election day, only one thing really seemed to bother me. That was a show I watched that profiled all the new member of parliament hopefuls. The show focused primarily on the young age of some of the candidates.
‘This young lady is only 25 years old! She is active in fourteen not-for-profit organizations in her community, president of an NGO which she founded that focuses on curing blindness in malnourished kittens in developing nations, and is currently working on her PHD in International Compassion and Classical Guitar. Her father owns a wildly successful wasabi farm and she has already donated her sizable inheritance to a man who had a flat tire in the rain! She is considered a rising star within the party and a shoe-in to defeat the incumbent who has held his seat for 103 years. And just look at her sense of style!’
Although it wouldn’t seem so, I try to subscribe to the credo of:
“The only time you look in your neighbor’s bowl is to make sure that they have enough. You don’t look in your neighbor’s bowl to see if you have as much as them.”
I do try hard to curb my obviously raging streak of envy. I admit it’s a character flaw I have struggled with all of my life. However, these days the fight to conquer it seems pretty much impossible. Never before have I felt so hopeless and imprisoned by the limitations that I face.
Life seems to be happening at a blistering pace all around me. Meanwhile, I struggle to swing my feet out of bed. I do try and find pride in such a modest accomplishment considering the circumstances. Still, I feel a well of potential rotting within me. All I seem to be able to do about it is dwell on it and ruminate over my tragic lot in life. Everyone hates a martyr.
I’m tired of watching life under glass. Watching people embrace life, overcome challenges, and dismiss trivialities that sink me like a stone. It’s as if I can hear life having a party down stairs with all my family and friends and I can’t find my pants.
Fuck you depression. I have no idea who or what you are, where you came from or why. Ruin my appetite. Rob me of sleep. Haunt my dreams. Darken my eyes. Limit my physical abilities. Muddy my memories. Make me asexual. Hell, go ahead and permanently loosen my bowels.
Just don’t take my future away from me and leave me sitting here to watch the clock run out.
the forest for the trees 