Wednesday, July 11, 2012

The Price of Living is Death

I had this whole thing figured out. Well, maybe not the whole thing but I do know I had several bullet points that I wanted to explore. I really wanted go into some existential frenzy about how life experience has taught me everything I need to know and that I could forge on being a rooted tree and stand my ground come lightning or rain or hurricane.
I'm finding that to be a total load of bullshit.
I'm an incredibly strong person, so I've been told. Through death, through upset, through illness and injury, I've managed to stay pretty grounded. I keep myself together most days and when I can't, I have a good support system willing to go to bat for me any time I ask. I have a life that is crazy at times, complicated most of the time, but it isn't terrible by any stretch of the imagination. I was born with a patchwork brain and I was never given clear instructions as to how it works. Some times, this is a huge problem because I have no idea how to explain it to anyone else. Some times, I rejoice in the fact that my brain sees sounds that no one else can or that I can hear in color. What is inside my head is uniquely mine. I can't say that about anything else.
So what does all this have to do with anything? I'm finally living a somewhat "normal" life. I'm not dealing with catastrophic failures or mind numbing survival mechanisms. Why do I feel so down? I think it has a lot to do with the profound fragility of life itself and with knowing that everything I have so precisely arranged could be gone in an instant. There is no do-over or reset button. There are forces in the universe that I have absolutely no control over. I try not to think about it most of the time. There are days like today where I can do nothing but think about it. I try to distract myself by pouring all my energy into creative outlets, but sometimes all I can do is sit and think about how it all could be gone in the blink of an eye.
Some people want it all to end and sometimes they succeed in their efforts. For a long time, I thought that's what I wanted too. Thinking about it now, I realize that what I really want is for the uncertainty to end. I want the axe to fall. I want the other shoe to drop. Every day I wake up feeling like my neck is in a noose. I'm trapped, feet stuck to the trap door, just waiting for the hangman to flip the switch. I feel the rope on my skin and hear it rubbing me raw.
This is driving me crazy.

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