Monday, October 22, 2012

WHO LET THE INMATES RUN THIS ASYLUM?

"I am stable but the rest of the world is manic as hell," my friend Nick opined on Facebook. I quibble with only one part of that otherwise-fine sentence: the rest of the world is not so much manic as fucking insane.

OK, maybe that's a little forgiving. Insanity can't be helped, especially when it affects the membrane. Perhaps a better word is cruel. The rest of the world is cruel as hell. Especially when you think it's trying to be kind.

I've spend the better part of this year trying to scrabble back into the game of life after an unfortunate little accident. The Amazons saved me, and this blog sustained me. It forced me to keep my mind active. The act of typing, then writing, this long letter to a misfit made me think about what's worth living for. It made me understand the difference between temporary infatuation and permanent love.

It made me understand the real meaning of happiness.

I found that truth — among other things — during this journey called the monomyth, a trek I continue to make, five-and-a-half months after blowing a gasket in my brain. Despite its sometimes-rocky terrain, I like this new landscape; the journey is making me appreciate the value of patience — of waiting.

I spend a lot of my time these days doing just that: waiting. It's sometimes frustrating, especially when my efforts seem to be ignored. But the quiet moments usually overwhelm those temporary frustrations, drive them back into the shadows where they belong.

The frustration only comes to the fore when it feels as if I'll still be waiting on my last day of life. That was the case today. No matter how much I tried to find the joy, I found despair. Blind, disheartened, rebuffed, rejected: there's my Monday, and it got worse as the day dragged on. In response to someone's note I could only summon a one-letter answer: K. That's pretty fucking pitiful.

And that's why the rest of the world seems cruel tonight. Patience was not my friend today. It took most of my strength not to react — an old-Ron habit.

So instead of lashing out I turned to the laptop and started typing. Started writing. It helped. People can be clueless. People can be cruel. It feels like they're being insane. In the midst of that turmoil I turn to what I feel in my heart: I believe in the better angels. And I will wait, even if it takes the rest of my days, to defeat the dark days and find the sunshine. I've felt it on my face before. I won't settle for anything less.

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