Dealing with Issues

It's probably an understatement to say I have issues.  I have issues upon issues, growing, festering, metastasizing—a Hydra head of serpentine issues that, try as I might to stamp them out, keep rearing their ugly heads.  One might argue that life is as complicated as we choose to make it, but I believe this view of things is too simplistic.  Being “the master of my fate, the captain of my soul” sounds good on paper, Walt, but I’m too much of a Calvinist and part-time Darwinian to believe it.  So I take only partial blame for the aforementioned “issues.”  There are some things in life that you just can’t resolve.  Either way you turn is a dark, lonely street.  Resolution is nowhere in sight, and resignation is the only game in town.  I can only withdraw into myself, the dilapidating fortress of solitude—not the refuge of a man of steel, but a last holdout against the winds of emotional pain and “what could have been.”