lack of dreams to aim for

I got to thinking about this last night as I was writing the other post about current vs. ideal me, but I wanted time to kick it around some. But I have come to the inescapable conclusion that seems to go along with not being able to see any goodness and light in myself: I have no current dreams, either.

The dreams of my youth were a family and a rewarding career. I either f'd those up myself or had help in doing so. Then, I went back to school when I was a "non-traditional" student (i.e.,not 18 to 22), and I did pretty well, and I got into grad school and I did reasonably well in spite of a few obstacles (like a paralyzing depressive episode), and I thought about going for the Ph.D. So I put in all the applications, paid all the fees, got people to write all the recommendations, wrote the tell-them-what-they-want-to-hear essays … and got rejected by every single place I applied.

(I have to break here for an aside. One day after the most recent rejection, I had an appointment with my pdoc. I told him about it and he said, all Pollyanna-ish, "well, you know, most people don't get in, don't take it personally and keep trying." All I could think was, "you've never failed at anything in your life, so how would you know?" He's been a star his whole life. Most people I would hold that against ;-), but he's a kind and compassionate man who has taken very good care of me, so I let him off the hook.)

So then the terminal degree dream died. I went out and got a job. They started me at the salary I was going to ask for anyway, and liked me so well that in 4 months they gave me a 10% raise. At last! Something going right. And then 9/11 hit, a bad thing for an international travel company, and people started cancelling subscriptions to our products, and about half the company got shown the door, including me. So there went the start-of-a-nice-career dream.

So I did a bunch of temp work for the better part of a year, and then I got a job with a newspaper, which is all I'd ever really wanted. I remember watching Nixon's resignation speech when I was 9, and I saw All the President's Men when I was 11 and then and there I knew I was going to be a journalist. 12 credits from a degree from one of the top 3 journalism schools in the country, I quit, not certain that it was what I wanted anymore. But as the years passed, I knew I had to get back to writing.

So I get this job, and I do really well, and while I enjoy the job, I hate the poisonous atmosphere I have to live with in order to do it. So I start applying elsewhere. And I get interviews, and they're all very impressed with my resume and experience, and then they tell me it still isn't good enough. So there goes the getting-out-of-this-dump dream.

I don't have any dreams left. I just live from day to day. I don't peer into the future and say, "Wow, I really want that, I hope it happens, I'm going to work for it." I just try to haul myself out of bed every morning and hope I can live through the day without doing any harm to myself. I don't have any goals to aim for. I don't think I am destined for a long life, never have thought so, and 5-year plans just seem ridiculous when I'm not sure I'll be here another 5 years. I always hate that question in job interviews, "Where do you see yourself in X number of years?" because I have no f'ing clue. It's all I can do to get through 24 hours at a stretch. I can't project into the future and say "Yeah, this is what I really want," because I can't think of anything I want to bother working for.

If this is what aging's all about, forget it.

Candy

Nobody can keep you from adopting Philip Roth's attitude. Although he believes nobody will be reading novels in a few years, he intends to continue writing them because that's what he does well. His life is, he says, a function of art informing society --- not for the sake of society --- not to advance certain causes --- rather because he has the ability to engage minds and open them to the wonder and wisdom of what might happen or might have happened IF...

Candy, as a writer manque I can tell you that there is highly charged magic within us. We are in danger of self-destructing unless we hurl a few lightning bolts or even the fire and ice of new galaxies out into the 3D world.

I don't see it as an ego thing. We are perhaps similar to the small creatures that make coral reefs. We do it because that's what we do. And, obviously being designed to do it as a high art form, we do it well. Sometimes even ancient and dry dictum, transformed into life-giving, sugar-laden fruit, hangs at the very next oasis. Taste it and remember who you are, Candybear. Publish or perish.

Love,
Adieu

Candybear, my dear, I am right here with you, in that same space. No goals, drifting.

Whatever has become my mantra.

Every once in a while, I think of something I might like to do. I may even feel energized -- briefly.

And then life sets me on my keester again. You know, I met this writer who gave me a good paying assignment. The deal was that we would proofread each other's work. I finished a bunch first, and he started making rather picky changes. I argued against one that was absurd, and he stopped most of the picky stuff.

I am not a great proofreader, so I kept sending them, and he is precise. Even though I've caught him in some punctuation and grammar errors, but then I just don't make the changes. I submit my work directly to the publisher.

The deadline arrived. So I emailed him and asked if was sending his work directly to the publisher. He emailed back yes. So he made this change in a very sneaky way -- I edit you but you don't even get to see what I submit. And I don't tell you when I've changed the plan.

What can I say? It's his job. But I have a Ph.D. He has mentioned looking forward to partnering with me in the future. I don't feel as if this is a partnership. I feel disrespected. So whatever hopes I had that maybe this would be okay -- back on my keester again.

I wish I did have goals. It would give structure and meaning to my life.

So sorry that you are in this place. We are good and competent people. (((((((((((((((((((((((((Candybear)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Hi folks,

Some deep thoughts here, and the familiar feeling that intellectualising can be the stuff of depression.

Maybe day-to-day living is not so bad if we see it as living in the now, rather than living in our dreams. I have gradually realised that we only have what we have now, the rest is history or dreams, and dreams turn can bad if you stay in there too long. For some of us, the history was always bad.

Having reached the depths a couple of years ago, I decided to do something right there and then. I picked up a few poems and took them out on the performance circuit. I ended up reading a poem about my panic disorder in a claustrophobic basement event in London, to an audience half my age,and getting some applause. I felt like I was having every anxiety symptom I have ever had in one go, but amazingly - no full blown panic attack.

Afterwards a big black rapper came over to me, as I sat in the bar with my daughter and her friends. He shook my hand and said, "You were good man; you tell it like it is." What can I say? Life doesn't get much better . My daughter knew what it cost me to go in and do the performance, and she was seeing me get some payback.

So, what about the dreams to aim for? I would say - survive the illness, don't give up, make something out of what's left. That's the only dream I have now. We have to work with what we have left.

The illness is all still there, it doesn't go away. The PhD that I gave up through depression is still hanging in my memory, all the mistakes are there to see, but I'm still here in the world and still fighting my corner.

Candy, you're a bright person, and strong too. I, for one, believe that things will turn better for you.

Good thoughts to you, Myzen

((((Candy))))
I wish I knew what to say. I just wanted to let you know that I read your post.

Jessica

My hat's off to you, Myzen, for getting onstage -- and despite your panic attacks. And having the black rapper come up to you with a compliment -- Way cool, as my students say.

I used to teach a lecture of a hundred students. When anyone would come up to me and tell me I was the best teacher, or a presentation had really grabbed them, I was on cloud 9 for days.

Performing my own, personal, gut-wrenching, creative work -- I can hardly imagine doing that!

Bravo! Bravo! Bravo!

I experienced a bit of that when I moved to a totally different country than the one I grew up in. I had always had this dream about a small farm, kids, a nice man and a anonymous job somewhere. And my whole life pointed towards that classical dream of a Norwegian country side girl, I found a nice man, got married... smack, I get divorced, hm, what do I do now, ups I get pregnant...hmm... have to move abroad. It's not really just to buy a farm in this overpopulated country, and accomodation is in any case veeery expensive. Im used to spacious houses and big gardens, but these giant Dutch people seem sto be used to no space to turn around on. The whole farm thing with horses etc is put on ice, for a long time. I don't ahve a clue what and if I can specialize in forensic psychology as planned before. When I don't know what I can do, I can't dream about it. So I try to figure out what I can do, and find dreams accordingly. I can take a lot of courses that I have always dreamed about taking in Norway, like ceramic and painting. I can give my daughter all the options I never had myself here. I can travel to a lot of other countries in Europe within hours. And if everything ends up not good enough anyway, I can always force my boyfriend to move with me to England, and then I can get myself a farm there instead

If you feel that the way are not going where you want it to go, and you lack anything to make up for the lack of direction, then it is difficult to find meaning in life. I think it sounds like you are a bit depressed, and then it is difficult to see the meaning in life in general. You talk about not feeling like starting something that would take you for example five years to finish, because you don't feel like your life is going to last that long... but no matter how short or long your life is, you will need to fill it up with something that makes sense, and that feel sgood. Maybe you shouldn't be focusing on the end product so much, but enjoy the process of getting to the end? University for me is also many years of interesting learning and studying, getting to meet a lot of interesting people, experiencing something new and challenging. It was more than just getting through it and be done, it was a pat of life, and agood part of life. I don't miss it, but I am glad I had quite a lot of it.

Try making yourself daily routines, and stick to them even when you feel bad. Get yup at the same time, eat something healthy, do some exercice on a regular basis. Try to focus on what you feel like doing here and now, not what would be interesting in five years. Maybe it will help?

Charlie

Just a thought, but have you thought about starting your own paper? Like a community one to start and buld up?

Your writing style is wonderful, and you have the experience and drive to continue with it.

There maybe a lot of photographers looking to make a start, and maybe people in your area just read the community one, because it is the only one.

Just thought I would share my thoughts on your post.

Colors