I Feel Sad

Right now, in this moment, I am profoundly sad.  I don't really have one reason for feeling this way.

I am sad that my dog peed on my friend.  My dog has never actually peed ON somebody until last night, and it makes me sad that she behaves that way and that she behaved that way on my friend.  I don't have many friends.  I can't really afford to have them peed on by my misbehaving puppy.

I am sad that there are no attorneys in the state that will work pro bono for my wife and me.  This means my choice is to allow those who have continually abused my wife and her children to do whatever they want to now, or to stand up to them on my own.  That doesn't really even feel like a choice.  I don't let bullies beat up on my friends unless they get through me.  I have been asked to play a supporting role in this fight long enough.  It's time for them to beat me up.  And if they do, they get to keep beating up on my family.  And I'm nervous they're gonna beat me up and continue to beat up on my family.  And that thought makes me sad.

I am sad that my weekends have become something profoundly sacred to the point that I am sad when I don't get the full two days to do nothing. 

I am sad that my 13-year-old shoots a concerned look to my wife and gets nervous when I say "I'm out!" because nobody wants to watch my skateboarding movies.  I am saddened that my reactions to people not being as interested as I am in a movie about a past-time that is not super popular would generate such concerned looks and worried feelings.  I am saddened that he 1) doesn't know I'm playing, and 2) if he doesn't know I'm playing, puts enough stock in my reaction to a movie selection that he feels the need to become anxious.

I am sad that I hear my 13-year-old's depression when his mother asks him about Instagram.  A while ago, my wife and her 13-year-old had a good time with Instagram.  He took some pictures or video of something they were doing together, like making a fire or pouring soda on a teddy bear.  I can't remember specifically what it was, meaning that it wasn't something huge like killing a duck or molesting a fern.  It was something fun, something they were having a good time with, and something age-appropriate.  After posting it to Instagram, less that one minute later, our 13-year-old received a barrage of text messages from his father and step-mother.  Then he erased his previous Instagram posts.  When asked why he had taken down his Instagram posts, he told his mother that his dad and step-mom thought they were inappropriate.  That was a big downer for both of them.  And I hadn't thought about that at all until last night when our 13-year-old was telling us about Facebook and Instagram, and he mentioned that he was on Instagram a lot.  My wife said that she followed him on Instagram, and she noticed he hadn't posted in a while.  He said yeah, and she asked him why not.  I could hear the bottom drop out of him when he replied that he "didn't feel like it".  My wife prompted him to continue with the conversation, and he picked up talking about other people's Instagram posts.  I am saddened that she provides him the opportunity to talk with her, and he doesn't.  I am saddened that he continues to make choices that make his life more difficult and sad.  I am saddened that I feel powerless to help either my wife or her 13-year-old.

I am saddened that I don't make more money so that we could've taken my friends out for a beer last night when they brought over their furniture.  I am saddened that I have no money.

I am saddened that my job makes me sick.

I feel sad.  Very, very sad.  And I don't like it at all.