The Standards of Loss and Letting Go

Over the past few months, I have been drifting away, but let’s step back to the past few years. 10 Years ago when I was 27 years old I was hopeful towards the future, I was able to secure jobs easily and felt I had plenty of time to do everything I wanted. I loved my home state of Maine and what it offered me in people, seasons and opportunities.

As the years progressed, life became harder as I did not make choices that made my life easier. I lived off grid in homes that placed me in a gilded cage due to the need of constant maintenance and tending. My family moved nearby giving me a feeling of commitment and need to not expand too far. My wife’s job became more established and placed us in a tight position of no mobility yet financial stability. Over the years we tried to move, tried to branch out but for one reason or another, from debt to failed job offers we were trapped. This entrapment led to a strong contempt for those things that kept us tied down. We grew to hate our homes and all things associated with them. We hated our debts and did everything we could to erase them. Autumn’s job became an unbearable burden which was reviled at all points. Even family was vilified at times with many arguments, grudges and misconceptions forming that had gotten unfortunately severe as time went on. Even the state of Maine, a place I loved and people which I once enjoyed became despised and avoided, ridiculed as much as possible.  Over time there were instances that mellowed the issue. New projects, new toys, new circumstances and new experiences but they were just delays to an inevitable collapse. In the end, all the feelings of entrapment and associated negative consequences such as alienation, job loss, lost reputations and endless anxiety kept spiraling until one day we just broke down and said Fuck it ALL, we are done and we are leaving.

We are now about 6 months from having left Maine. While not every day is met with a cringe thinking about it, many days result in reminiscent bad memories and flashbacks to experiences that result in anxiety attacks. I still have bad dreams about my time there and hope in time it will pass.

So what happened? I’m not really sure what happened, and I need to figure this out. Maine is a pretty state, many of the people are good folks, and it’s a wonderful environment. I am a Maine Guide, and love that I know the woods and waters better than most people yet wonder how I can represent a state that I have so many issues with. I guess it comes down to being trapped and being forced to endure far too many years of sheer stupidity at the hands of conservatives who loved their ATVS and guns or liberal hippies who felt that by having a bunch of ill-behaved kids and small organic farms could somehow change the world. Perhaps it started when I became a deputy and saw too much of the Maine underbelly of drug abuse, domestic violence, and cronyism. Possibly even recently at the behavior of my townsfolk to went above and beyond the call of duty to ensure my time there was a living hell. Something(s) happened in Maine and it(they) started a major shift in my personality, something that will take a long time to heal.

In Maine I was a relative recluse, not by choice but necessity, there just were not enough people to talk to. While I was a recluse, I was fairly active online and on Facebook. My every thought was there, and I ate up the site with a voracity that was unhealthy. Following leaving the state, I still used Facebook as a promotion portal to connect with people and share my photography. I felt if I could show people beauty they would care about the things I do. In time though I found this not to be the case, I found Facebook to be an attention-whores best friend. An outlet for angry white men and frustrated liberals with an ax to grind. I found my feed littered with posts of people I did not know, doing things I did not care about, shares of things that were half-truths at best and sponsored clickbait at worst. I got sick of it and started to rail against in this blog.

Fast forward to today. I have all but left Facebook. In the past few days, I have unsubscribed to most of my groups and got to the point where I was planning on unfriending almost everybody. After looking at the time to do so, I decided my time was more valuable, and I should just delete my profile. So, in the next week or two if you happen to try and find me and I’m not there that is why. I’ve deleted myself as there is nothing good to be gleaned from social media. Everyone I care about has my email or phone so if you want to get in touch feel free as you have the means. You have no excuse so don’t cry when I disappear.


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