It happened. Today was a breaking point for me. I had a very upsetting afternoon and shit was coming in waves...rolling in. One thing after another, like I couldn't even catch a breath. The breaking point was when the box of 500 plastic forks fell from the top pantry shelf, all over me and onto the floor. It would have been funny to watch... like a Dick Van Dyke Sketch.
Then... I turned around and tripped over the vacuum.
I didn't have the willpower to count to 3... I couldn't take another "breath", this was it, I had enough.
Truth be told, I hated that vacuum from the start. I stomped that mother fucker and left it almost unrecognizable in a corner of the kitchen. When it was over, I felt better. Went straight to bed. It was 6PM.
Thing is.... this image is a perfect illustration to where I am right now. Just waiting for the opponent to confidently speak the word... "Checkmate".
I am exhausted.
On second thought, exhausted doesn't really describe it. I have literately worked around the clock, without a real break for a year and a half. And the stress I feel for this business is indescribable. I can't sleep. I pace the floors. I just think about how to grow the business I have poured myself into for over 20 years. My life's work is completely dependent on other people and it freaks me out.
My brain just runs. I can't truly shut down. I stress over the amount of work that is left for me to accomplish to get this company where it needs to be. I have software that is half finished with literately months of coding to go. I am just one guy. I feel overwhelmed, lost and shattered.
I have felt broken for a long time. But as of today, broken just doesn't describe it anymore. Broken can be fixed. Shattered however, will never be the same. You just have to scoop it up and throw it out.
I can't take any more failure. I can't take any more loneliness. I was never built to live this life alone or with the wrong person. I was never built to stop creating. But it seems like everything I touch turns to shit. OR worse yet... gets plopped into the swirling mediocre mote that surrounds every one of my beautiful creations at the moment.
Right now, as I write this, I feel like throwing this Macbook through the window and then following it to the ground below.
This fucking life has literately been one failure after another. I have run out of energy to believe. I no longer have the optimistic desire to complete the massive amount of work ahead to achieve. The reward has been punishing.
I look around and am surrounded by people but still feel incredible loneliness. I'm smashed, shattered, a mess, a god damn Frankenstein sitting in a corner, surrounded by my own guts and the mess that was breakfast.