Complex Numbers

Porsche Swing

Today's blast from the past is a short entry I wrote near the end of August, 2008: "I can't get no..." 

I've been trying to put words to the malaise that seems to have overtaken my life. It's not that I'm not happy, or I'm severely lacking in anything (except maybe motivation).

I don't think I wallow in self-pity to that degree anymore. If I do, I don't write about it, because that leads to a) people shunning you even more; b) advice that doesn't work for me (as per some of the comments on that entry); or c) people being happy about it because at least they're not you.

Anyway, I did finally figure out what was bugging me, I think: work. The fact that I had to do it. It was interfering with my video game time.

What I want to focus on, though, is the first comment, from someone I sadly haven't seen in a while but used to comment here a lot:

It's "midlife crisis," buddy. I've experienced it and know men who experience it until either they self destruct or they do something to sate it.

Some people treat a midlife crisis, especially in dudes, as a joke. And to be fair, sometimes it really is funny, like when someone goes out and blows all their money and credit on a Porsche and a 21-year-old hooker (neither of which I've ever done). But that shit's real, and as much as society pushes men to squash their emotions, doing so is generally a Bad Idea.

That shit can ruin lives. I had an uncle who had an affair with a grad student, and ended up destroying his family. Fortunately, the kids reconciled with him before he croaked, and he expressed regret at his actions.

Anyway, I don't think that was one; I've always been prone to depressive episodes, regardless of age. And even if it was, I didn't have a family to ruin. Sure, I ended up getting divorced the following year, something which was in no way my fault [Narrator: It was a little bit his fault]. But having glanced at a few of the intervening blog entries, they weren't all gloom. Some of them were about my epidural for back pain, and anyone who's experienced chronic back pain can tell you it definitely affects one's mental health. And then there was a vacation, which apparently helped, too.

I did end up, over the following year, buying a new car, retiring, and traveling (in that general order). But the car was a Subaru, not a Porsche, and traveling is something I'd always wanted to do but was difficult while working full-time.

Whilst out and about yesterday in my new-to-me Subaru—after over a year without a car, I wanted to see what changes happened in my town, and besides, it was sunny and 70 damn degrees outside—I saw that we now have a Porsche dealership in my town.

I wasn't even the slightest bit tempted.