One, or over

“I accept that the life I have known is over.”

I cannot exist in the moment. My presence requires an apology for not meeting expectations and I am a waste of space if I stop for a moment to understand what is going on around me. As I reflect on my constant state of presumed dysfunctional existence, I see that I am extremely uncomfortable with living in a stable environment. That is embarrassing to admit and it shows just how little confidence I have in myself to make important decisions. As much as I want to find excuses to justify my mistakes, it is the unflattering truth. I can hardly find my keys in the morning, let alone have faith in my instincts. This is frightening because I know that my recovery is only as strong as my weakest moments.

As I review my writing with fresh eyes, I see that I am fresh from battle. I am shell-shocked, frozen and waiting for the next attack. I trust no one and I only feel safe when I assume ulterior motives. I am the soldier waking up in the middle of the night, surprised to find that he is not actually on the battlefield. I am the disgruntled employee of the universe who expects applause and a raise to celebrate my mediocre contributions to the bottom line. I am the seductress with one goal in mind and I lack the integrity to rely solely on my raw talents. I am the asshole who will stay silent until a project fails, simply because I need you to see how your insecurities and attempts to beat me into submission created enormous economic inefficiencies… I also want you to feel like a failure because of it. I have axes to grind, chips on both shoulders, and you will feel fear when I finally decide to bring you down.

I am frightening and I am also weak. I am a physical body lacking a soul and I can unintentionally make others suffer if I do not find a way to heal this pain that slowly consumes me from the inside of my chest. That pain reminds me that I am not fortunate enough to be dead. That pain is why I am numb to all other sensations. That pain is the life I once knew.

I am afraid to leave it behind. Maybe I won’t let it go.