I woke up in a body that wasn’t my own this morning – or maybe the bits and pieces that identify me are still sleeping somewhere and I am what is left to wade through the day. Attention span is limited, zoned out yet extremely aware of the pins and needles making their way up the arms and legs attached to this body.

Today I want to analyze some of my personal extremes… like that one, up there. It’s kind of a trip, looking back on an exact moment, the feeling of that moment, and knowing that the feeling was real but not being able to relate to it at all. I remember writing more than that small excerpt, trying to explain the state of mind with a metaphor, realizing that it made zero sense and deleting it; I had a creative writing teacher who always insisted we write in pen, because everything we put on paper has meaning, even if it doesn’t fit what we are trying to say at the moment. Unfortunately, I can’t recall which grand metaphor I was trying to make, I only remember the intention behind it: to create a bridge for myself, to understand what puts me there and how to cope with it.

It’s difficult to explain, or to even comprehend, what it is like to look at yourself and your surroundings and feel like a stranger – the face you see in the mirror is slightly skewed, it feels as though you are treading through thick molasses, yet, the world moves around you at high velocity. Before you know it the day is gone, and you haven’t had a chance to move past the difference in your eyes or how hard it is to breathe… there is very little recollection of what happened, other than it did and that is the end.
When days like this happen I become hyper aware of my own insignificance, really, the insignificance of everything. My job, my home, my relationships, the mind, the body, all of it, have zero significance on a cosmic scale and none of it is worth the importance it is given… but
I choose to give them importance.
Maybe that’s what the difference between my normal mind set and this unrelatable, ball of nothingness I feel is.. (as I write this, a glimpse of the metaphor has come back to me):

imagine, you are strung up, from all angles, in the center of a redwood forest… you are in a circular clearing one hundred feet from the ground, with thin wires wrapped around your wrists and ankles, you are alone. You have to get down somehow, or else you will die of dehydration/starvation, but how?
If you struggle, the wires might snap, sending you plummeting to the forest floor.
If you yell, no one will hear you… except for wild animals which might seek you out and wait for your eventual demise in hopes that you may become a tasty snack.
It is there, it is the opportunity to make a choice, to believe in something, embrace both the negative and positive outcomes, that is the difference. To believe that, maybe, you can use the wire to swing to a tree and make your way down; maybe, you are closer to civilization than the tall forestry leads you to believe, and an s.o.s might be heard. To believe that you have real, tangible options besides waiting to die.

You have real, tangible options besides waiting to die.
I have real, tangible options besides waiting to die.

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