
I don’t know what it is about flying that gets me in a knot of emotions. As the captain announced that our 757 was about to climb to 41 thousand feet, I was surrounded by at least 200 passengers, and there I was sad and welling up because of the absence of satisfaction presently in my life. Sure, I just saw a sad movie; sure, I'm in the middle of a book that talks about
The Great Sadness which hit too close to home; sure, I am admittedly tired and have been overworked for the past two months finishing up reports and applications, going through meetings and planning site visits; but why the imbalance though? An analysis of my personal issues was needed to say the very least.

It is serious. I know it is serious enough when I have big self doubt and when I am beginning to
hate myself once again, per se. I suppose this instability is brought upon some issues recently that I’ve been ignoring and pushing aside rather than deal with head on . Getting lost in the busyness of work or drowning yourself with activities upon activities will sooner or later catch up with you. In the end, in your most private moments (while crumpled up in physical pain or on a 20-hour plus plane ride, as I found out) you, your being in the center of your universe, will smack you in the face unrestrained with everything it’s got.

I am sad, imbalanced, unhinged, unsatisfied, hurt, disillusioned, disenchanted, disheartened, cynical, broken, jaded and ultimately tired and exhausted about all this. It’s not just one thing, I understand, but the inherent problem in all of this is that it is way too easy to focus on the shortcomings of one's self and blame it on our flaws. I am my own biggest critic and I am brutal.

I need to let go, forget, start over, find vindication, shower, shave, get a haircut, and find balance once again. I must let go of the unhealthy excesses that I’ve surrounded myself with especially the skeletons and the baggage that I have somehow picked up again. I see it now. It is clear, yet I know that it will be difficult to shake these off.
In my analysis of how I should cure myself of this self-loathing and doubt, I found this blog to be part of the unhealthy excess that must be trimmed. In the beginning, it was an avenue for me to share art, science, things of personal interest-simple things. Without planning for it, it became too personal: a window to my innermost self and intimate details. Sure, I built in some defenses, such as my anonymity and the promise from friends not to reveal my identity unless I approved, but who am I really kidding? I am exposed and my feelings and emotions are apparent. I am out there, and right now, I do not especially like myself, or even how I am feeling .
I do not know how to find the balance that I seek at this time, while concurrently maintaining Beachcomber on Saipan. The seemingly quick and simple answer to this is to just cut myself off and stop posting. The reasons for this blog in the beginning no longer seem to be the same anymore: the selfless somehow became selfish.
So, until I am able to find that balance or any viable reason that justifies enough for me to continue posting (or until there truly is ti napu) I cease to BE...
The Beachcomber
Thanks for your friendships. Take care now.