What Me and Nero Knew

Sometimes when I am journaling in my messy house, I feel like Nero the guy who kept  fiddling while the city was burning. The difference between me and Nero though is that he seemed perfectly  comfortable with what he was doing.  Me, if I take a look at my surroundings long enough, I start to get edgy and squirrly and melancholy.  I want to throw my pen down and go to sleep because the magnitude of the disorder is just a bit much for me to bear even though I know I created it.

Or so I thought that it was just the disorder outside, it's also the magnitude of the disorder inside that I can't seem to fiddle through.

I thought getting my manager off my back would make me feel better.  It did for a little while.  I can say with much confidence, that she was only part of the problem, in that she has difficulty with creating, respecting, maintaining boundaries. I'm happy to say that I'm practicing creating boundaries and happy that I don't have to argue with her overmy life choices. I can't say I feel completely reassured that I will stop being harrassed altogether but that's okay. I'm prepared to do whatever is necessary to ensure my internal peace.

But, still,  something just doesn't sit right with me.

And it has nothing to do with my manager. 

I'm satisfied with my new found ability to stand up for myself.  I needed to do that.  But, I am still a malcontent.  So, what am I malcontented with.  I have a job, I have a place to live, food in my cabinet, clothes on my back, a car to drive...albeit a raggedy one.  I am approaching my 52st birthday on Saturday.
I have good children... Happily single

I'm not miserable...but a little muted voice in my head keeps my psyche straining to hear the messages that it's trying to yell out to me. But like Nero,  fiddling,--my fiddlin-- keeps drowning it out and I can't hear it clearly.

So, I'm missing something. 

I'm not sure how long I can continue to stand by while my inner city burns. But, I know that standing up for myself was only a tiny part of quenching the fires sort of like spitting on a forest fire.

Nero, just didn't give a damn, I guess.  I don't think that he was a bad guy... just a crazy one.  (Maybe he set the city on fire and was happy to see it go).

I fiddle out of anxiety and a desire to survive.  It doesn't work for me anymore..