I am sick of the stress

7:55pm, apartment in Chandler, Arizona, Friday night, April 8, 2022. Going for a walk right after I wake up is therapeutic. The physical exercise and quality alone time contribute to what I consider my greatest happiness; enjoying solitude in the pre-dawn dark, sifting through treasured memories and anticipating a future yet to be lived. On a really good day, when I am reviewing familiar musings, my spirit soars and I feel contentment. The trick is to see how long I can stay in that joy until negativity pierces the cocoon. Once that happens everyday garbage floods my thoughts. Then the effect is ruined until I can wake up the next day and do the whole routine again. Often, I think back to when I was a chaplain. The job was demanding but, there was enough down time to stay in prolonged moments of bliss. The job I have now violently destroys the very things that make me happy. I am sick of the stress. I don’t want to spend every morning dreading what I have become.