Too Much TV?

Is there a limit as to how much television a person can watch? A person can drink only so much water (at once) or it will kill them. I wonder if TV has the same limitations and if I am reaching them. I watch TV all afternoon, evening and weekend. Life is passing me by and I am missing it because I’m watching TV.

It’s not that there aren’t things I could be doing. There are. I could read. I could look for jobs. I could surf the web even. But using the computer one-handed is a pain in the ass. Seriously, try it. Take your dominant hand and set it in your lap and don’t move it. Now surf the web, reply to email, and write your blog. Use the mouse with the “wrong” hand. It’s a hassle isn’t it? Consider expanding this one-handed experience to using your phone, eating, and personal grooming. Imagine doing this for weeks on end. Imagine too that your “good” hand isn’t all that “good” either.

Am I whining? Maybe just a little. But it’s been like this over a month. I’m trapped in a house that I love but I see all its flaws. Repairs that need to be made and the $$ that will be required to make them. I cringe when the heat kicks on because it means there’s more $ flying out the windows. One entire room is closed off from the house in part to help with the bills, but mostly to hold my OCD demons. One of the things that makes reading so hard is that my “good” wrist cramps up while I’m holding the book. Add to that anxiety and depression… It’s hard to focus. 😦

Don’t get me wrong, I am thankful for all the wonderful people in my life and for all the things I can do that I talked about in a previous post Things I’m Thankful For. But today is all about the things I still can’t do and all the things that keep me from doing more. Anxiety, fear, depression, frustration, pain and their result: a bored little coward that watches TV ad nauseum. Yes, I’m even nauseated.

I’ve been told before that people look up to me, respect me, even admire me for my successes in life, but they don’t see the real me. The sad creature in heap on the floor, draped in a blanket of worthlessness, enveloped by a cloud of depression, attacked by flies of fear, anxiety and self-doubt nipping at a hypersensitive soul trapped within a cage of my own creation. It sucks to be here. Why can’t I get out?


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