Cooler than a polar bear's toenails.
|
Cooler than a polar bear's toenails.
|
There are times that my body hates itself. On a deeper level than physical. As I sit in silence, going through the monotonous actions of work or simply existing, my entire cuerpo becomes locked in vicious combat. Just as a wolf will tear through a mangled leg caught in a trap, my psyche gnaws itself apart, fueled by the guise of it being all for the better.
I know how this feels when it happens. I've thought about what sets it off. While I haven't self-diagnosed myself out of respect, I've worked out my own solutions to these issues. But they persist. They will appear out of nowhere, too. When they do my stomach drops to the floor. My arms lose all feeling and my mind begins to run at a thousand miles per hour. I go into a hyper focused state and the trigger plays itself in my head until I can somehow work the feeling away. Then they are gone as quickly as they have come. Just now a faint siren catches my attention and I turn my head to see my bedroom window illuminated by the telltale lights of a passing ambulance. Someone somewhere has a much worse life now than I do. Someone whose story I may never know and I don't want to find out. Someone whose bad times are not limited to self destructive thoughts. For a second I am tempted to put my problems aside. And why shouldn't I? I should be grateful for what I have and allow my current disposition to be. A statement like this is often used by an unaware Good Samaritan. No doubt they mean well. In their mind one will hear this and be comforted. The problem is, I don't share their mind. At the gym this morning, I talked with a friend about people who naturally gravitate towards fight or flight in regards to stressful situations. When she called me out as a "flight" type, it led me to a lot of introspection. I don't consider myself a stranger to conflict in any form. Throughout my life I've been through times that have tested my abilities to act smoothly under pressure, whether the consequences were physical or emotional. In these times, I've acted accordingly and done what I had to. But while I wouldn't call myself passive by any means, I am not one to go head to head. Flight types are generally like this. Like anything else, it comes with its positives and negatives. I avoid conflict as much as I possibly can. I smile and let things be and carry on. But eventually I reach the point where I can't run anymore. The problems build up. The struggles endure, and if I want to end them I must dig my feet in and face them head on. Only once I begin to implement this can I become the best version of myself. There is a jungle in front of me. Right now, I've been walking around it. When I look into it, I dread the endless expanse that I see and the possible dangers that lie within. I could continue to walk around it and if I do so I may reach the other side eventually. I know this. Or I could build a road through it. I have literally no idea how to build a road. But I know a bit about what it entails. I know that it will require more people than just me. I'm aware of the effort that it will take and how much I must be willing to sacrifice to do so. These things scare me. What drives me to do it, however, is the knowledge that once my structure is completed, I will have so much more. The process of building myself up will have improved my life tenfold. Eventually, I will be able to show others my road and it will help them find their own. These things excite me. My search for balance continues. My path to the rest of my life is in the process of being built. Ironically, it will never fully be finished. But I will waste no time in getting started, for the farther I get, the more my journey will improve. rick
1 Comment
|
how do you doI write for the people who read. enjoy! |