I wish I knew how to express my joy and delight in other's success in the face of my own repeated and ignoble failure. I wish I could convey that I truly believe that the triumphs others achieve reflect their own merits and worth, that everything they receive is in measure of all that they contribute, that they indeed deserve it. I don't really want them to feel too overly lucky in comparison. It's not really fair. It's not simply luck. Success is not the result of random chance.
I wish that I could say all those things, and have them be believed, despite the sinking depths of my own despair that the same can not be said on my behalf. I wish I could truly allow others to understand that my own depression (while motivated by circumstance) has little or nothing to do with comparisons to their own opposing circumstance.
I dread to be with friends who I know will ask me, in all good meaning, how things are going, and what I am up to these days. I need to practice the art of talking about others lives without mentioning my own.
Tonight, my wife said that she had hoped I would work with a career coach in part because she feels she can no longer be my counselor. I will fall silent. I am the turtle in my shell. But I will hide myself too much I fear. Perhaps. But maybe I will clamp shut just enough, avoid discussions of the things that bring me down, long enough for the circumstances to possibly change.
It is always up and down. Fake it 'til you make it, I guess.