Posted: December 17
Last night I had a dream of romantic spontaneity; of sudden, burning passion, of boundless joy, of the stars aligning and everything I could possibly want -- or at the very least, what I think
I want, or maybe what I wanted so badly
at one point in time -- simply, inexplicably coming into being. A perfect life made manifest. No inhibition. No limitation. And everything was perfect
, or at least the illusion of perfection that people like to cling to, and everything was pure.
And then I woke up before the dream ended because some part of the real
me broke down the barriers of that fantasy. And why?
Because there's no way I could be that spontaneous. Because I can't function without my meds. Because I "inherited" this or that from my mom and this or that from my dad and because, unless I lose myself completely, unless I find something that I haven't found yet, I either feel the weight of my existence or its alarming weightlessness, and it's too much either way. Because each and every time I step outside my door I'm crushed by my own thoughts, and suddenly each and every crippling, clawing, gnashing insecurity, doubt, and weakness feels so naked and bare to the world at large that I can only really function if I shut myself off.
But then I feel like I'm not doing it right
. Like I'm presenting the world with an image of myself that's not the real me
. Like I'm somehow disappointing everyone by not smiling at strangers or not talking enough or not being friendly enough or not giving off the right "vibe" or not keeping in touch with people or really making much of an effort to establish much of anything outside of myself
I tell myself, always, that I need to fix this. That this
pill or that
pill will make it work. That it will get better. And sometimes it feels like it does, if only for a moment, but it's fleeting.
So I woke up this morning and stared mindlessly at my phone for a few minutes -- found some asinine sense of relief and validation that my latest overfiltered, over hashtagged photo on instagram had gotten more likes from beautiful strangers who may as well not even exist, which makes me feel hopeful if only for a moment because I can't stand the thought of being looked at or scrutinized in "real
" life -- and carelessly tossed my phone back to the side. 4 hours of precious sleep, and I knew I wasn't going to get any more, so I woke up and took all my medicine just like I do every single morning so that I don't end up just lying in bed for hours.
Then I sat down at my computer in the dark to play some video game because I knew I needed to distance myself from reality just as I do each and every morning. Opened up my Steam library, stared at 'Actual Sunlight', one of the many games I bought at one point and never got around to playing, and thought to myself...why not
The hour and a half spent completing this game was like staring into a virtual abyss that encapsulated so many of my own fears. So many of my own doubts, regrets -- regrets I'm too young
to have but regrets that are nonetheless very
real -- insecurities, and feelings of hopelessness all made poignant and raw and brutally honest.
But within the sadness of this experience lies a deep and profound beauty.
It's so easy
to feel alone. It's so, so easy. And no matter how many times or in how many ways you're told that you're not
, you still feel alone. Because when it's made so simple, so black and white, it's supposed to seem so easy
and the future is made to seem so bright, and maybe other
people can switch themselves on and off like that...but when your friend tells you to "have more confidence" you want to make
them understand that it just doesn't work that way
and when your family is proud of you for a moment that sliver of time seems ultimately fleeting
in the face of every pain and sadness you feel and when your psychiatrist tells you that you should accept that someone out there wants you
and even when you feel
wanted everything about everything
just seems so hard, so pointless, so false
and you end up just watching life pass you by. For the first time in a long time, this game made me feel like I wasn't alone.
I sat here writing this for the last half hour not knowing who, if anyone, will take the time to read this sprawling mess of words or ultimately even care. But just knowing that a game like this exists
is enough. Because all these feelings of hurt and every quiet lament is a testament to the experience of a life that is beautiful even in its darkest moments.
Whether that life is mine...or yours.