Well we’ve made it back from camping in one piece. As I suspected the crankiness wore off, I’m not even sure why I felt that way in the fist place. My knickers were too tight perhaps.
I did a bit more reading of The Gifted Adult and it has some compelling descriptions, some of how I see myself. One in particular talks of a gentlemen who feels angry inside, but he hides it well and no one is the wiser.
- He sits in meetings and wonders how they can go over the same things over and over again without coming to a conclusion or making a decision.
- He wants to stand up and yell.
- Co-worker’s eyes glaze over when he talks of fresh ideas, and yet some time later they come up with the same concept and it is somehow their epiphany.
I can so relate.
I’m currently at the chapter where the author discusses the gifted persons need for self actualization, according to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. I do feel like I should be accomplishing something, most days I feel like I’m spinning my wheels. I hate coming to work, it’s mind numbing (almost spelled dumbing, how’s that for a Freudian slip?). I’m sure I could find things in my job to challenge me but I have no interest, I’m tired of being here and cannot rouse even the smallest interest in growing my position. Some of this may be the depression, I think it’s more that I’m just plain tired of being here.
I often think of leaving my job, taking retirement and damning the consequences. The financial hit could be considered substantial in some books, but I also think that if I would then be happy it would all be worth it. Isn’t that the way it should be? I believe I am trapped by my belongings, my things. They often seem to own me as opposed to me owning them. But I am afraid, and as a result I do nothing except lament what could be. This may be a topic for me to discuss with Gloria.