Wow, Past Selves. I was in a mood, huh?
It’s the wee hours of the morning now. I’m not good but I’m probably better off emotionally than I was when I wrote that.
This is why I need my writing. This is why I need this blog, and social media. It’s an outlet. It lets me vent. Cheaper than therapy, too.
Whew. OK, update. I’m still in science fiction mode, though on a different story than the one I had mentioned in earlier posts.
Seems like all my stories are about a nebbish main character who is somehow transformed and given powers, with which to struggle against great cosmic forces. It’s the running theme of all my works, and going back to when I played pretend as a child. I was always a wizard, a superhero, a powerful alien, a robot, anything but an ordinary guy in my fantasies. Wish fulfilment. I wanted, and want, to be something beyond, to change in ways that would give me agency and a decisive role in events. Exactly what I don’t have now, a middle aged, way out of shape man, totally dependent on others to survive, on government agencies, on a medical infrastructure and industries, on even my own family and friends.
I grew up on Heinlein Juveniles and pervasive 70s/early 80s mentality of “can do” spirit, of total independence and self reliance. But those things are literally not physically possible for me. If they ever were they certainly are not going to happen now. I am disabled. Mentally and physically, I am crippled. My shortcomings make me a lifelong dependent on an unstable and unreliable set of circumstances. Civilization teeters, and my life hangs with it.
I am so desperately afraid.
(So much for being in a better mood.)