Profound Sadness

Nothing seems to affect me more than the sobering reminder that I'm just another stupid human. On most days, I seem different. That calm, level-headed demeanor that seems so unflappable combined with a brilliance that boggles the minds of those around me. Also, my humility. But then, I'm reminded that with everything that makes me good, there is a sort of yin-yang inherent in my personality that is altogether frightening. This demeanor comes up in moments of frustration when I have no control over a situation (or a string of situations). One moment, I'll be fiddling with a bargain basement Rubik's cube made out like a sudoku board, and the next, it has gotten stuck so many times that I've lost my place and throw it across the room causing it to shatter (yes, I've shattered a cube; pieces flew everywhere). I've lashed out at almost everyone around me at one time or another, and when it happens, it's like a complete change comes over me, and I become someone else. As soon as the outburst is over (which, no kidding, lasts less than ten seconds in pretty much every case), I'm fine. Well, almost fine.

You see, I have a conscience. I have a personality that is fairly passive 99% of the time, so the fact that I became uncontrollably violent for a few second always brings me down to a near depressive state. Over the years, I've learned to control my frustration so that I don't do anything to those closest to me, but for the Queen, even seeing that side of me is quite disturbing. Really, I don't blame her.

I thought about those moments throughout my life on my way into work this morning, and it made me very sad. It's the sort of thing that brings up everything else I have and haven't done, and other failures more than successes. I consider each one of those times a complete failure at living life the way I want to live it, and it serves to put at risk the only thing I actually can call a success in my life. My family. In a world where love is a four letter word, and families break up because someone didn't squeeze the toothpaste the right way, I have a level of pride in the fact that my family of five is together and happy. I know the princesses will one day go through own way (Rock Girl, for example, is entering high school soon, and we had a meeting with a counselor yesterday on making sure her high school years get her on the right track for college), but I knew the Queen and I would go on together doing whatever. The rest of my life is a dismal failure. My job is ok, but I don't enjoy it for the most part. No one wants my writing of any kind. They don't even want to read it. Even at work, where they know that I can, I got an email about something I had proofread yesterday, and big surprise, not a single suggestion was present in the document they sent. I mean, why even ask me?

At work, they have this silly health risk assessment quiz that you can totally lie on if you want, but there were questions about feeling hopeless or depressed or whatever, and on one of those, I put rarely, and on the others, I put never. That's just how I am 99% of the time. I guess I should have put rarely on all of them, since I feel pretty hopeless at the moment.