Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 37

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 37

This entry is part 30 of 32 in the series Just Write Something Damnit!
Author’s Note: If you have not read the first post in this series then all the rest will make no sense at all. Please click here to take a quick look at Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 1

Remington Standard Typewriter on desk with blank page

Thinking About Death

The combination of morbid creativity and extreme anxiety that powers the mainframe I call a mind affords me plenty of (unwanted) opportunities to consider how I want to die when it is my time to do so. Not that we have a choice, but I think I would probably be right in assuming that every one of us has—at one time or another—considered one type of demise preferable to another.  

Suicide?

I have considered the merits of types of suicide (that’s another story, for another day) as well as accidents and diseases. My imagination is high powered and my dreams even more so. The combination has allowed me to explore the feelings and emotions of the end in ways that most could not even fathom.  

The Best Way To Die

I am probably a part of the majority when I say that I have always considered dyeing in my sleep to be the best way to go. The assumptions I base that on are that it is painless and unexpected. Critical thinking is a bitch though, and I have recently come up with a couple of reasons why even the (seemingly) sublime thought of slipping away in the dead of night could be just as terrible as all the alternatives: 1) It is always assumed that dyeing in our sleep is painless. I think that assumption comes from the fact that no-one is there to witness it. We wake up (or walk into the room the next day) to find our loved one dead and automatically assume that they just slipped silently away into the great beyond. Is that the truth or the tale we tell ourselves to cope with our own personal loss. 2) The older I have gotten the more I have come to firmly believe that we implicitly know when our time has come. If that is true then there is no ‘unexpected’ death. Even if it is just a fleeting moment—we know when the time has come.  

A Bug’s Death

What’s the point, Dave? Glad you asked. I was driving home from Pennsylvania today contemplating death. It is a terrible thing to do when you are driving 65 miles an hour in a large piece of metal and glass on a road filled with potholes and surrounded by assholes that are just trying to get to their 4th of July party before all the beer is gone. That being said, I am an asshole too and that is exactly what I was doing. The anxiety was really starting to affect me when all of a sudden SPLAT! A huge bug exploded on my windshield right at eye level. It was in that moment that I decided that—if I had my druthers, and the power to decide how I was going to go—I would be a bug, on a highway, on a windshield.
Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 37

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 36

This entry is part 29 of 32 in the series Just Write Something Damnit!

Author’s Note: If you have not read the first post in this series then all the rest will make no sense at all. Please click here to take a quick look at Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 1

Remington Standard Typewriter on desk with blank page

Dead Inside

There have been times in my life that I have considered myself to be dead inside. I have been to funerals of loved ones that elicited the same emotional reaction as classes I attended in college—it wasn’t bad or good…just was.

There have also been times when the slightest emotional stimulus ripped me open wide. I could be watching a tender moment in a sitcom and suddenly find my face soaked with tears.

Results of my Mania?

I assume these two opposites to be results of my mania. The strange thing is that when I look back at these examples, and my state of mind at the time, I recall being happy overall in both instances. When I look back at times that my emotional reactions were ‘appropriate’ those moments all seem to be framed in times of great sadness. Does that mean that my emotional baseline—the conditions under which I react the most socially ‘appropriate’—is sadness? That’s a sad thought.

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 37

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 34

This entry is part 27 of 32 in the series Just Write Something Damnit!

Author’s Note: If you have not read the first post in this series then all the rest will make no sense at all. Please click here to take a quick look at Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 1

Remington Standard Typewriter on desk with blank page  

Change, and the Terror It Creates

There was a time in my life (not so long ago) that the thought of changing jobs again terrified me. It also made me angry at the fact that life had put me in a position that made another change necessary. If you’ve read any of the previous posts in this series, however, you know that a good deal of my way of thinking has changed over the last couple of years. That process has all but irradicated my fears with regards to change, as well as my expectations regarding what I do (and do not), deserve in this life.  

Thoughts, Actions, and Decisions

Change excites instead of terrifying me now. I dictate my position in life with my thoughts, actions, and decisions. Everything I have (or do not have) was gained (or lost) as a direct result of the aforementioned thoughts, actions, and decisions. Also, I no longer base my happiness on those programmed notions that I spent a lifetime forming concerning how life should be. My happiness is no longer dictated by the expected ‘norm’ — my ‘norm’ is dictated by my expected happiness.
Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 37

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 18

Author’s Note: If you have not read the first post in this series then all the rest will make no sense at all. Please click here to take a quick look at Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 1

Remington Standard Typewriter on desk with blank page

Social Anxiety

My social anxiety is at its most vicious when it is working to build my assumptions of what others think of me. It sees an event on the horizon and immediately takes stock of all the people that might be in attendance. Then it methodically mines the recesses of my memories for any little instance that could be used against me. It could be a text from my brother last week that seemed short or a conversation with my sister from five years ago that did not go the way I wanted it to. Whatever it finds gets blown up and connected in some twisted way, then woven together into a film played on a loop until the day of the event.

 

Don’t Speak

I don’t speak about it to the people I should (or anyone, for that matter) because I am not entirely sure I read the situation correctly, to begin with. Social anxiety twists both the moment and the memory of the moment. If I speak about it and have it wrong the situation only worsens.

It is a terrible place to dwell — inside the dark of one’s mind — with no guide and a malevolent force lurking in the shadows.

 

Faith To Overcome

My faith has made me stronger over the last few years. The darkness isn’t quite as dark. The time I’m in it isn’t quite as long. Still, every once in a while, the anxiety weaves its web and ensnares me.

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 37

Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 9

This entry is part 7 of 32 in the series Just Write Something Damnit!

Author’s Note: If you have not read the first post in this series then all the rest will make no sense at all. Please click here to take a quick look at Just Write Something Damnit! — Day 1

Remington Standard Typewriter on desk with blank page

Shower Wierdness

I cannot tell you why I did this today, but I did. I was standing in the shower trying to collect my thoughts for the day. It’s usually the most distraction-free block of time I get (I imagine that’s the same for most people) so I have been trying to take advantage of it as much as possible lately. There were a few things I knew I had to deal with during the day; things that slowly started to manifest into anxiety.

 

Lean Into It

Instead of letting the anxiety take over, I closed my eyes and leaned forward. I put my hands against the shower wall and let the water run over my head. I took a deep breath, exhaled, and immediately envisioned a ring of light around my heart. I focused my attention so I could see it clearly in my mind’s eye. As I did this the ring of light began to spin clockwise around the area where my heart is.

 

Commitment, and A Storm Of Light

I committed to the meditation and pictured the ring spinning faster and faster. As its speed grew so did its size. I threw all my creative energy into the beauty and power it represented. The ring spun and grew, and as it did I could see all the darkness being pushed out of me like carrion on the outskirts of a magnificent storm of light.

Love and gratitude were this maelstrom’s driving force and gave every ounce I could muster of both. The ring grew until engulfed me and the room and the house—and then I said ‘thank you’ and it disappeared.

I do not know if there is such a thing as spontaneous, and necessary, meditation. That is what it felt like though—like in that moment either my head exploded, or my heart shone. I am glad it was the latter.

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