what if?

Do you ever think about what you’d do if you just totally lost it?  I don’t mean if you had a tantrum or breakdown, I mean come unhinged.  Lost whatever it is that holds you to constraints of social contracts, of responsibility to yourself or to others to keep it together, to act as if there is a tomorrow and you’ll need to be equipped to face it.

I do.

I think, but I’m not sure, that I would not become violent.  On the side of practicalities, we have the simple fact that I’m just not that big and powerful.  I could (and do) fantasize about slapping someone who did something horrible to me, but the knowledge that I am simply too puny to do more than annoy is too strong to give this fantasy much traction.

I think I would get mouthier.  I would give away my things.  I would make a scene.  I would stand outside the mall at christmas time and tell people that they are beautiful and that they just need to love, really seriously love themselves and their friends and family.  I would tell my boss that she’s an imbecile, a dangerous imbecile who everyone mocks and no one respects.  I would bust into church to tell my parents that the god they have so recently rediscovered would condemn them to one of the lower, nastier rings of hell for all the pain they caused and for parading around in their current mockery of redemption and that they’d better start doing more than bible studies and voting republican.  I would try to build a house.  I wouldn’t get very far but I’d do it anyhow. I would sit outside in a field at sunset and pat a stray cat without fear that I was going to get bit by another tick.  I would try to rescue all the things and people I want to rescue or help but have to turn away from because the reality of it is too much, too big, too overwhelming and too undoable.

I’ve been thinking about this today because I’m trying to maintain despite being at a bit of a crisis point.  The cat is dying.  I have surgery in the offing and no diagnosis or plan in sight for all “the rest of it” that is wrong with me, a primary care who says “that’s gonna make it all worse” but life makes it all worse.  Every month, something makes it all worse.  It’s coming up on my least favorite time of year.  And honestly, I am just tired of hanging on, hanging in, getting up and doing and pushing through.  I want to do more than that.  I want my life back, I want my vitality.  I miss the belief that although bad things will happen, I will get through ok.

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2 Comments

  1. queenofoptimism

     /  November 17, 2010

    I’ll stand right beside you when you’re outside the mall yelling except for the moments I get all fight club/guerrilla and tear down all of the displays of decorative mug and cocoa gift sets.

    You’ve been feeling lousy for far too long. It’s been too damn long. Enough time to rob you of hopes, dreams, and confidence. Confidence that in spite of whatever happens, you’ll make it through it – recover from anything. You’re bright, talented, interesting, thoughtful – but none of those qualities are making the medical system you are being pushed through any less disjointed. You’re not given choices at work or with your personal health management FT job.

    You know I share similar feelings as what you’ve shared here. As I am writing this, a thought keeps popping in my mind: what if instead of hanging on I decided to let go? I’m not sure what I mean other than my search for a sense of freedom. I definitely don’t mean it in a “Let go, let God” sort of way. Someone actually told me that was the cure for my illness – to give it to God.

    I care about you.

    Please excuse the scattered and unhelpful nature of this comment – I was up super late last night for work. But I mean it – I care about you and you are completely justified for feeling all that you’re feeling.

    Reply
  2. I’ve actually wondered this sort of thing more and more often lately. I just want to scream at people sometimes, and I find that my fuse is so short these days. I’m sick of people not understanding or even trying to understand what I’m trying so hard to tell them.

    You’re going through hard times, and it’s normal to have these kinds of thoughts and feelings. I wish that I could help you in some way through this crisis that you’re going through. Keep trudging through, dear. Blessings.

    Reply

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