I've got the darndest feeling that there is oh-so much I need to do to get my life into some sort of order. I spent almost 2 years heading out to my dad's place to help him... um, well, just be, I guess. To ensure he ate relatively well and balanced, to make sure that life is going as well as well can be and to just keep him company. It was only 4 days out of the week, but those four days, and the three I spent at home, completely enveloped who I was and what I did.
Now... now, that he is gone... where am I? In my apartment right now, to be sure. For the past couple of months, I have been zipping out to the old man's house to clear it from 40+ years of accumulated stuff. And now, since the house is empty and all that is left is to clean and sweep and wash and vacuum... gee whiz.
What the living frell am I to do with my time now? I have been so set in my ways that I forget what I did before the dementia, etc. set in. I have my catfishing coming up in a couple of weeks, then there is the so-called "regular" fishing in the summer. BUT. But, WTF do I do now?
Meetings? Sure, I could fill about five or six hours each day going to, sitting thru and coming home from a meeting. I could probably spend good time whining about my current life today at said meeting. There is the possibility of me looking outside myself and helping another member travel along their own path of Recovery. And service...
Bing! Been there. Done that. Burned the fucking T-shirt. All that Recovery shit did its thing way back in the day. Trouble is, Service took over what and who I was. And by Service, I mean the meetings, the sponsorship, the sharing, the Home Group, the committees, the yadda-yadda and the blahblahblah...
Much as I have told the newcomer that Recovery needs to be the be-all and end-all of their life... Holy Fuck! Here I be, right now, thinking that Recovery does not need to be the be-all and... etc. of MY life!
Fuck me! But what else do I have?? I tried to work. Fucked by my tremors (& they call them "essential"!). Fucked by a knee that no CT or MRI scan can find shyte. Fucked by my eyesight that denies me a drivers license.
pfft, enough cursing...
I wanted to go biking, but my cycle was stolen. $600+ down the drain. I wanted to do stealth camping... and the bike was integral to that. I kinda gave up on fishing... but all impediments there are now gone, so...
Or get that danged drone out and get it flying.
Clean my mofo apartment!
Spring white-tail deer antler shed search?
Photography / video.
I don't know! I have lost rhythm to my life, much as I was starting to despise the previous beat. I guess it will be just a matter of finding that beat that fits me in its time. Right now, I feel fucked. Tomorrow? Ha, I'll sleep on that one...
Keep The Faith*