Time for a good rant eh?!

It’s too late for me. I am a cyclical, old (in brain) fool. But maybe you can still save yourselves? As I sit at my local beach (woe is me) writing this rant of a post. I wonder how I’ve gotten this far without maiming somebody for their stupidity. You see my anger levels are brimming and so I need this little rant like a pressure valve to release some steam. A lot of men play sport or go drinking with their mates to let off their steam. In the process they have a good moan about stuff and through their shared appreciation for the common troubles they feel better. Unfortunately for me I don’t play rugby anymore and my drinking days were numbered when I got sick more often than I got drunk. I don’t do yoga anymore and my meditation practice has slipped somewhat, so for now this page is my therapy. Here I am attempting to acknowledge and unleash some of this pent up, pissed off feeling. Here goes. What am I angry about? Well I could say it’s all the small things, but that is only the surface anger. It’s deeper than that, it’s me. I’m angry at my own faults and faux pas and I am not about to “be kind to myself”. Don’t get me wrong I know I am not useless and I am coherently rational (at the present moment) to know that I am in a great position mostly due to my loving wife. But that’s not good enough for depression. It isn’t a rational thing. It doesn’t go “oh you live in sunny Australia, I’m not going to bother you anymore mate” and then fuck off. No it doesn’t. Nor does it see financial stability as a reason for you to be content or at peace, in brutal honesty it can rear it’s head wherever it bloody well wants, it doesn’t need to make sense. So this writing of mine here is just a way of being honest when I feel I can’t be open and honest in person. It is my therapy with nobody, yet ironically with everyone that reads this. So let me move on and get the small stuff out the way because it does piss me off. I am no Yoda, I struggle to stay calm at times and probably because I do it eats me up inside a little each time. You see people piss me off. Traffic pisses me off. Tourists piss me off. Kids piss me off. Most noisy/busy environments piss me off. Questions piss me off. The list of these small things is so long that there’s not enough paper in my notebook to write them all down. Sadly there are often times when I struggle to find the things that keep me calm and at peace, perhaps that is why I am now scribbling away so furiously. (If you hadn’t already realised I hand write this crap before typing.) But these small things are like the scum and human detritus sitting on the surface of a pond. If you really wanted to get rid of them you could with the right tools and some time. The deeper shit that angers me is myself (sorry for repeating myself, but it’s kind of the main point here) and that is the shopping trolley sat below the pond surface, discarded from a night out on the tiles. It sits there along with a few tyres, a mysterious black plastic garbage bag and a child’s toy. Slowly over time they are degrading, leaching their poisonous chemicals into the environment around them, killing the fish, the plants and pond life. It’s the kind of deep shit that keeps me moving, never settling in a job for any length of time. It goes perfectly with this daydreamers mind of mine, all ideas and no consistent follow through. It’s a gift and a curse. Fuck. What I tell myself is that I’ve just not found the work that inspires me to overcome these feelings. Another part of me doubts that I ever will. A different part tells me to do the things I don’t enjoy in order to develop and progress to that which is inspiring. For me if there is no development and progression then life is pointless. Yes that will sound bad to most, but the few will get it. Frustratingly I am hamstrung by the belief that if I am not doing something of value to society, something great than myself, then I am failing. Earning money, living somewhere nice and being “comfortable” is not what I want, if anything it is the antithesis of my aims. When I say I want to help people it is not fakery. It’s no bullshit it is the thing that keeps me willing to come to work each day. Below whatever you may see or hear from me I am always wanting to be alone in the middle of nowhere surrounded by nature. I am not immune to emotions, rather I have become adept at guarding them under lock and key. Depression and people’s reaction to mental health and talk of feelings can do that to you. Maybe that is part of my anger, a frustration at not being more honest. Despite hiding everything I am still flesh and bone. I get hurt, upset, sad, depressed and angry like anybody else I just don’t have the energy to express it and then answer the ensuing questions. These pages are the only place I feel comfortable saying these things at times, unless I have help from my old friend alcohol. Anyhow for now I am just letting off some steam and reducing the anger levels to a 5/10. At least for a moment I can think a little clearer and feel a little calmer. Tom