I’ve never said those words–“I quit.”
…at least, I’ve never really said them and truly meant them before. Well, maybe that’s a lie; I’ve said them, and meant them–but I’ve been in some of the deepest darkest depressions or some sort of situation where I feel like I have been brutally beaten down by someone or something.
I hate the idea of considering myself a quitter of anything. I’ve always been the type to believe that if you want to do something, then you should devote everything that you have to it, and that you should never give up, under any circumstance. Maybe that’s why I took it so hard when my marriage fell apart. Again. And Again. And Again. But that’s an entirely different story.
I don’t mind admitting defeat. That’s a sign that you’ve actually done something–and learned something. And in the admission of defeat, one is continuing to show that they are learning… you know? I see it as a process of just continued growth and dedication. Make sense?
But quitting…
…but that’s where I’ve found myself. Wanting to quit.
I woke this morning to the sound of my phone ringing–alerting me, shortly after 4AM–that a Winter Storm Warning had been issued. I swiped at the screen, ignoring the call, and rolled back over, to try to drift back to sleep. As I laid there in the darkness, I began to wonder why I’d even set up those alerts and wake-up calls so many years ago, when it seems like nobody cares. I also began to try to think of how many hours of sleep I’ve missed or otherwise had interrupted by these alerts, notifications, and phone calls. And then, I thought of an argument that arose earlier this week…
Too many arguments, too many fights, too many disagreements have come up in my life surrounding some of the things I do–or try to do. And I’ve always tried to do my best at it… and all it’s done is get in the way of so many other things… and left me feeling even worse for wear. And my level of involvement or dedication–while it reaches that point of being nearly too much for me, is still quite small in the grand scheme of things. So, it often feels as if I’m fighting some great battle that doesn’t need to be fought. Or something like that.
Since the late ’90s I’ve been involved in trying to manage an online world for the local EM–at the very start of my toying with an online presence, I think it was still DES! That little project was started by my dad–who simply volunteered his time to the agency at that point–and then picked up by me. I wish I still had the HTML files I’d written back then–or that I could remember which section of GeoCities the first incarnation of the site had been on. Eventually, in August of ’01, I asked if I could actually be a recognized member of the team. A few short minutes later, I was. Following that, I began to dedicate even more time to presenting the best online media relations that I could.
I tried to do my best in keeping up education and training requirements as well–but life happened; finding myself becoming a husband and a father got in the way of furthering those aspects of my volunteer career. I still tried my best to juggle the online stuff, though.
With the advent of social media, I took on more responsibilities and created accounts on Twitter and Facebook, long before any other agency in the area realized the importance of these newly born tools–my accounts pre-date nearly every agency in the Commonwealth, including the state’s own accounts! I began to share PSAs and weather bulletins–some original, many copied. I’d drive around and take photos of storm damage–floods, ice, winds, etc.–and post them online to the website, media accounts, and photo-sharing services. Eventually, I developed a following; my sense of responsibility grew.
As the years pressed on, I continued to share and post; I continued to develop and find ways of getting the most timely information to everyone. My phone became my best friend throughout most of this. Now, it’s become a hated symbol of wasted time and effort, waking me at 4 in the morning, reminding me of the fights that go nowhere.
Earlier this week, I voiced an opinion–perhaps a bit misguided, though I’m not entirely sure–on a topic related to the current “emergency” that’s affecting the community; that opinion turned into a nice little fight between my mother and I. To be honest, I still don’t fully understand why it got so heated.
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