The hope at the bottom of the box

I came this close to telling you how much I sucked.

How much ennui, melancholy, and despair turned me into an unproductive shell of the person I used to be.

How the belief that I’d always had that tomorrow would be a better day turned into just hoping that I would not lose what little I have.

But a blog post about how much I sucked would only add girders to a belief that I actually do suck.

And saying that I sucked would invite others to do the same. (The Internet is not always a kind place, my friends.) When a person says she sucks, it is often interpreted as jovial self-depreciation. When other people say it – those are fighting words. And you know what fighting on the Internet leads to:

Now, I have to say that the results of the 2016 presidential election did not help my inner suckiness. At all. It only moved it to an existential position, like the circles of a Venn diagram coming together and merging into a giant ball of suck:

But all of this is neither here nor there as of now. As the Mr. says in this year’s holiday card, “Yesterday is behind us, and tomorrow is on its way.”

As it has always been.

So where do I go from here?

Well, I could start by asking myself exactly what in my life is making it suck, and what I can do right now to start to change them.

Two of those stressors pop up with sirens flashing:

1.       Where I live.

2.       My income.

The place where I live is in a good neighborhood – which is essential, because I have lived in bad ones – but it is too small. I don’t have access to all of the books I own. I have to sit on the bed to use my desktop. I don’t have a real quiet space to work and write and read and think. I could walk to the public library, but it’s not always open. Moving to a home with more space would significantly improve my quality of life.

So would earning more money. Together, my husband and I bring in enough money to survive. But not enough to thrive. I enjoy freelance writing, editing, and graphic design, but I don’t earn enough money from those. If I had a few more good clients, that would help. If I had more income, I would regain some autonomy to save money and make donations and buy the little things that bring joy to life. (But I need to work from home for the time being because I have a driving phobia.) 

Those are the main problems. 

The hope at the bottom of the box is that these problems don’t have to be forever.

If I remember that they don’t.

I can help myself and help the world at the same time. I have no choice. When I help myself, I help the world, and when I help the world, I help myself.

The world needs me in a good place.

It’s time to start now.