I’m still adrift. I think I can see something on the horizon, but I don’t know if it is an island, a ship, mainland, or a figment of my imagination borne of desperation. I’m leaning towards it being real. I should be desperate, I’ve been here for years, but I don’t feel desperate. I’ve just never actually tried to get anywhere before, so I have no idea what I’m doing here. I’m making it all up as I go along. I don’t really have any tools for all of this. This is all virgin territory for me.
For the majority of the day, I have been getting wisps of thoughts that come up. They’re mostly unclear, just the idea of a concept, but when they surface I find that I am struggling to hold back tears.
Comfort. That’s what I’m looking for. I don’t actually now what it is. To be honest, I almost looked it up in the dictionary before I started writing this bit. That is how foreign the word is to me. I have nothing I can look back on and think ‘Yeah, that’s what comfort feels like’. I’m sure there are things, but they were long enough ago that I can’t remember them. I think comfort is happiness, but more than that. It is prolonged happiness coupled with contentedness and so much more.
Really though, that’s just a guess. I can’t actually tell you what it is. I’ve sought it everywhere, but have never found it. The bottom of the bottle didn’t have it. Nor did the peak of an acid trip. That last bite of amazing food didn’t give it to me either. There’s only one avenue left that I am aware of that I haven’t ever really had the chance to try, but there’s a good possibility that will be as hollow as food, drugs, or drink. If I don’t find it in the arms of another, I’m out of ideas and don’t know what to do from there. If I have to find it within myself, I think I’m fucked. I’ve never found a whole lot in there. It’s mostly just survival stuff. I don’t know how to thrive and prosper, just eek by.
I’m not really certain though. Most days I would say I’m neutral. Not bad, but not good. There are still more bad days than good, but there are more neutral days than the others combined.
Today, however, has been more towards the bad side. I’ve been off since I woke up from a very vivid dream in which I died. I remember feeling the top of my head and my hand ripped off by shrapnel from a crashing plane (there was much, much more but I’ll not go into it). I remember being conscious afterwards in the dream, and as I faded I woke up, startled. My hand and forehead were numb from an awkward sleeping position. Ever since then, I’ve been struggling with this day. I was cooking breakfast this afternoon and as I was walking back to my room to eat I got the most overwhelming need to cry and I have no idea why. The whole day I have felt down with no real explanation of why.
I’ve been trying to use music to drown it all out. It isn’t really working, but at least the music is good. I’ve spent the day listening to the new Mumford & Sons album, Babel, on repeat. It is soothing, in a way, but it’s not what I need. It is only doing so much. I’m still struggling to find what it is I need.
I did stumble upon something though. I was running around the ‘net, searching for stuff that makes me laugh. I came back to youtube to see what my favorite channels had posted since last I’d been there and I came across a video by the ever amazing Hannah Hart. In it, she talks about stuff I have been dealing with for a while now. She talks about fearing to put effort into things and fail at them. Putting effort in can be very difficult, and the thought of caring enough to do it only to fail can be paralyzing. I don’t try for much anymore because of it… because I have failed at things before. You can’t get what you want if you don’t try though, and I have rarely ever gotten what I want. All I ever seem to get is what is willing to be given to me.
I just don’t know how to take that first step and just do it. It all looms so large in front of me. The possibility of greatness is there, but there is also the chance that it will all fall apart. I’m coming to a tipping point though, I think. Some day soon, I’m going to have to decide that the thought of living as I am now forever is worse than what I fear might, maybe, possibly, probably not happen. I know better, I really do, it’s just difficult. I know that once I do it I’ll look back and wonder why I waited so long, but that first step is the hardest. Everything hangs on the first step. If you don’t take it, you can’t fail. You also cannot succeed though.