Why am I here living a life. I guess you could translate that into what is the meaning of life, my life in particular. I have no idea.
My life has taken me on a journey that so far has lasted fifty six years without a lot to show for it. I went from a kid with a horrible temper into an adult with a horrible temper.
My life has been spent trying to be someone I am not, but rather someone that people expect me to be. For example, I do not like being around people, at least not a lot of people at one time. I am not saying I do not like people, I just like to be more by myself then in a social situation where I am expected to converse and take part in events and stuff like that.
I do like to help people though. I think I get this from my grandfather and my father. Both of those men helped people a lot as much as they could and I saw it and was proud of them. It made me want to emulate that kind of service. One big difference though is that they helped people without expectation of anything in return. I have spent a good portion of my life trying to do things for people that needed help without expectation of anything in return, but I am too selfish for that. I did accomplish that a couple of times and it felt good. When my Uncle Dan was nearing the end of his life I did everything I could to help him and I can sit here and honestly say that I expected nothing in return. I try to take care of my parents without expectations and pretty much have succeeded I think. I stopped by my grandparent's house on a regular basis towards the end of their time here and did not even think of being rewarded for it.
Deep down I am a little selfish though. As hard as I try, sometimes there comes a time when I need help or something else is wrong and I find myself alone wondering where are those that I helped when I need help? They are not to be found and that, my friend, is being selfish. I don't like to feel that way and I try not to.
Several years ago I had a small mental break that left me with depression and acute anxiety that seems to run my life now. Since that happened I don't know who i am much less why I am. Drugs that are meant to keep the depression and anxiety under control changes the way my brain naturally works thereby changing who I really am. They don't take away the depression or anxiety but rather just help to keep them under control so I can function halfway normally. This in and of itself is frustrating at times. I hate taking those drugs. I did an experiment a few years ago and quit taking them so I could truly be myself. It was a disaster. I was a disaster. I need the pills. I take the pills, but I don't like it. The reason I mention this is that these medications have side effects that keep me from being able to do things I use to do when I was younger, before the break. I overheat very easily and they make me feel tired a lot of the time. The big side effect of course, is effecting the way I think about things sometimes.
Last August I had a heart attack. It wasn't a major heart attack but any heart attack is serious and makes changes in your life. I am not supposed to be outside excersizing in extreme cold or heat. I have to be careful in what I do so that I don't strain my heart too much. This effects to a degree how much I can help others who need it. We had a huge snowstorm last night and today. I have twelve inches of drifted snow on my porch and my driveway. In days gone by, I would have been out shoveling not only my parents driveway, but a few of my neighbors as well as my own. I can't do that now. I can't shovel, or shouldn't shovel, my own driveway much less my neighbors. This bothers me. It also brought out that selfishness in me today. It brought out that thinking of how many driveways I have shoveled in the past and sit here and look out my window at twelve inches of snow trapping my car.
This has been a rambling entry I know, but it all comes down to, why am I? Or more accurate, why am I now?
No one understands the depression and anxiety and how it does inhibit me from doing things that people do. My job is filled with stress which feeds the anxiety and it feels like a struggle at times to get through some of those days at the office. Chances are I won't be able to get my wife to work tomorrow, something that she has counted on me for during bad weather for years. I find it difficult to do mundane yard work during the summer because of those drugs. Anxiety fills me when I go to the grocery store or really anywhere where I have to deal with a lot of people that I don't know.
I think I can see the answer to "Why am I" when I was younger and able to be a part of society and to do what I thought was right and required of me but now, I just don't know.
This question of why am I has been at the forefront of my thinking for a week or so now and I don't have an answer. I know there probably is one and maybe eventually I will come up with an answer to it every now and then. For now though, my mind comes up empty when I ask myself "Why am I?"