I feel like the embodiment of struggle. On most days I feel this way like each breath is a choice I have to make and the argument to make it isn’t as compelling as it used to be. So often I feel like what’s the point. What’s the point of getting up every day and doing what I did yesterday, so I can have what I had yesterday? It doesn’t just feel like insanity it actually is insanity.
The variety of life seems to have lost something. Where have the days gone that were filled with wonder and awe at the simple things? Why do I chase after any form of mastery over myself or a skill? What’s the point?
God, seems to have answered this question for many of us throughout our lives. Life seems to find a way to say here is the point, especially when chasing down the trail of “Fuck it, there is no point.” Down that path is more pain and damnation than any human soul can bear, at least that has been true for me. And in the times of desperation brought on by such, Fuck It’s, I found purpose and meaning in my life. I find that life is a beautiful puzzle that I get to play a part in. The significance of my piece is not up to me or anyone else, it just is what it is. In those moments I feel free of the pain of, “what’s the point?” I feel alive again.
Shouldn’t I be able to have that basic feeling without having to destroy myself all over again? It’s like God is telling me “Wrong way, not here. Turn back and find the right path, because this ain’t it.” So, what do I do? Where do I start from, this time?
And the simple answer comes.
Start from where you are. There is no other place to start from. Do what is in front of you, even though you don’t feel like it. You don’t always feel like working out, but when you do most of the time you feel better. You don’t always feel like going to a meeting, but when you do you almost always feel better. You don’t feel like living today but you will and you have always felt better about it.
I need to be shaken from my feelings it seems, I let them control me and I become a feeling monster. Hidden in the dark and rampaging through the streets of my mind, screaming and destroying everything it touches because it feels like it. The anger, the sadness, the Depression with a capital “D”, that I have turned into an Idol, all to get me high.
They put me in a victim mentality, in a low place, of poor me and from that place I can be different from the world and fulfill my destiny as not human but subhuman or inhuman. Because in reality, I am really striving for special, I want to be special and the day to day mundaneness of life is not special. Everyone does the same thing every day, everyone has to go to work and take care of their responsibilities. Well not Matt, you know why? Because he is special. And his difference of the way his mind works will allow him to sit in darkness judging the world and proudly declare that he did it a special way, the way of Gods. And he feels high in that state when in reality no one knows him anymore and he has been forgotten. Locked alone in a room drinking the poison that makes him believe he sees deeper and understands pain better than others. It makes him feel better than others, all the while he is dead, a ghost.
He left behind a memory of the sadness a memory that no one wants to remember so they don’t and in that he never existed at all. A wasted life by a man that thought he was different so different that he didn’t even really exist.
How is that for not feeling like it today?