|Beware the Ides of March: Depression and the Wounded Knight|
The Ides of March forever marked the murder of Julius Caesar. His bloody assassination on March 15th 44 B.C. marked that date as a day of infamy. Through time, the phrase came to represent a specific day of abrupt change, setting off a series of repercussions throughout Roman society and beyond.
Now we're closing in on the Ides of March and a series of difficult days have me swimming in murky waters of depression. My writing has been locked inside a vault of forgotten dreams. It seems no matter what I do, I come up short. The teaching profession is draining me. My main character Oscuro has abandoned me which is ironic since he's the angel of depression.
I live in warm weather year round, yet right now chills run down my spine. I feel as if little by little, my heart grows colder. I'm antisocial by nature and pretty gifted when it comes to analyzing other people's actions. I don't know if I'm misreading things lately, but I feel like a used, discarded condom, totally unappreciated.
Perhaps to some, I am just a ghost, a soft voice to listen to when bored. Real life restrictions have me in chains for freedom to me is but an illusion. Direction eludes me. Maybe I've chosen a lonely profession. To be a writer is to spend many hours alone with a computer and my thoughts. I cherish the flow of words on a page whether it be for a story, my novel in progress, or a poem. Unfortunately, my habit of reading situations for what they really are, splashes a cold dose of reality.
I hope that when the Ides of March finally moves on, I can get back to normal. I hope I can hear a majestic whisper that will kick-start my drive to succeed in the right direction again.
See you on the dark side. I'll be the sad guy in the corner.
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