A different kind of success

Aah, Bucky, you say it so well.

That's what I'm feeling - a different kind of successful. Having cleaned for two days and cooked and done laundry, i go to bed frustrated because the place is a wreck, and I look, and feel, worse than the place.

I'm "differently-successful."

When I have "dark nights of the soul" like tonight, I rack my brain to try and figure out - WHY? Why do I feel so unloveable? I have friends who come visit me, a job I'm moderately good at. I'm even working on being on time for work - heck, at 52, I have to do something to improve myself!

I have a wonderful pet pussy-cat who is doing her determined best not to let the cold weather get her down.

I even understand a good deal of what goes on around me. I try to keep in touch, try to do what I can...

But I still feel like a failure. Lost my second marriage, lost the family home. And frequently, I lose control.

I knew there would be nights like this, when I left, nearly a year ago. I guess I just thought I'd get them over with, mostly, within a year.

Nope. Being alone still hurts. Still sucks.

Then in desperation, I turn to the comics, seeking something to help me stop blubbering so I can get some sleep so I can get up when the alarm goes off so I can practise getting up on time so I can make it to work on time this week - and there he was, good old Bucky!

I'm not a failure. I'm "differently-successful."