Dazed And Not-Really Confused

I’ve been feeling rather detached this week. It’s a mood I’m not entirely familiar with. My ups and downs tend to be more dramatic. I’ll go from hyper, to exhausted, to depressed, to excited, to bored, to zoned in. It’s extremely rare that I find myself observing life – my life – from a distance.

I wonder how I got here.

I’m not sure if it qualifies as ironic, or if perhaps it is quite simply a direct cause-and-effect, but my life this week is all about drastic change. I’m beginning a new show, entering into a new from of personal relationship, even taking a new, more urgent responsibility at work (even if it is only temporary). By themselves, any of these events would be enough to send my mood rocketing up and down the scale. But all at once, it seems to have broken me free from the pattern. It’s almost as if all the changes were too much, but rather than completely shut down, my system has simply chosen to remove emotion from the equation, and my brain and body are carrying out the task of getting things done. In that regard, it’s a happy form of detachment. It’s kind of like watching a movie, although it just so happens it’s a movie about me.

Maybe that’s the key itself. I’ve been watching a lot of films lately. Not just movies, but films. Slower, quieter pieces of work that have more to do with people coping with day-to-day life than with solving the world’s crisis. Over the last couple of days, I’ve watched both American Splendor and Junebug, films that were small in scale, but hypnotic in their delivery. I used to love watching films like that in the past. Slice of life stuff. They seem to have greater effect on me than the big budget stuff like X-Men 2 and V For Vendetta, which I’ve also seen this week. Action films are a great escape, but they don’t effect my mood as much. Small films do. They stay with me.

Perhaps its all part of this slow-and-steady maturing process I feel like I’ve been going through lately. These realizations that, yes, I’d like to own a house someday (a thought I’d never really entertained for the first 32+ years of my life). The feeling that I need to take my acting just a touch more seriously. I’m sure it’s no coincidence that these thoughts have taken root ever since I’ve begun this blogging nonsense. Putting my thoughts out there, expanding on them rather than pushing back down, has been invigorating. I’ve felt more alive in the last month than I have in years.

And yet detached. Pleasant, happy, yet detached. I’ve found it hard to make decisions lately. Even simple things, like what to eat or what to wear. Not torturous, just hard. I seem to have no preference at all. My free moments at home have been spent quietly, not really doing anything, and yet not seeming the least bit bored or stressed out. Just kinda there. In a way, it’s a sensation not unlike what Ron Livingston’s character experienced in Office Space.

Is this what people feel like when they’re heavily medicated?

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