maintenance

40 hours a week, every week, until I die.

the wife, the house, the kids, the nice car.

is it a fair trade?
is that a good deal?

some days I feel ages behind and others I feel years ahead.

some days I panic because my chest hurts and I’m gonna die before I complete even half of my goals and other days I spend grinning ear-to-ear because I completed my social and civil duties and liberties in a tidy and orderly fashion.

all this buttoning and unbuttoning,

it’s all nonsense when you boil it down to the root.

I’ve been utterly thriving and also experiencing waves of anxiety that crash down on me in moments I’d really rather they didn’t.
at work. behind the wheel. before sleep.

I don’t know. it all feels backwards.

my radio silence on here has in fact been a direct result of thriving, as per usual with my hiatus’. the seasonal depression I normally find myself in at this point in the year has been thoroughly muffled by the people and things I find myself around.

I’ve put in some hard work to cultivate a couple of friends and spend time enjoying the city and it’s amenities.
I’ve rekindled old friendships and harbored a renewed interest in old hobbies.
I’ve found joy in the little things, in hanging up posters and wiping skirting boards.
I’ve got a stupid little beat-up car that I scoot around in.
a nice house that we keep mostly clean and stays mostly warm.
a loving partner. a big comfy bed.

it’s all there, every piece.

I think that’s why I’ve found myself so anxious recently.
having so much to lose makes me feel extremely vulnerable and impervious to downfall. I worry that I’m not doing enough to keep these things around, or that something is going to sideswipe them from me.

I worry about dying a lot more than I used to.

it’s nice, in a way. it means i have reasons to give a shit now, when i really didn’t used to find myself thinking that way.

in the same way, though, it’s not so nice. it makes me freak out and wonder if i’m worthy of all these nice things and nice people and nice life i’ve stumbled my way into.

and i may ask myself, “well, how did i get here?”

i’m so very fortunate to be here.
i’m so very scared of not finding myself here in the future.

does that make sense?