While the grey storm clouds move swiftly overhead, the rain that pours down over my psyche keeps me aware that something is brewing within the compounds of my mind. The endless rain keeps the mood at an all time low and the inability to see any sunlight keeps my doors shut tight to stay warm and ward off the impending dampness.
My soul feels afloat on a plane to nowhere yet the burning desire to be somewhere else leaves me with a feeling of unknown destinies that are creeping into my reality.
The last time I had this feeling, my MAN-O-PAUSE was developing and it developed into a sling shot that sent me clear across the US of A and landed me in this very staid environment, of rain and absence of sunshine that fed me the energy that eludes me now.
Of course I would love to write about the person responsible for this madness but I have no one to blame except my arrogant and newly humbled self for the changes that occurred by my life change. This adventure in the land of granola and trees has brought attention to myself and all things nature in life that I missed along the paths of yesterday. I definitely was unaware of all the things that I never took the time to finish in the yesterdays of my previous environment. That led to the realization that the very people, places and things that cloaked me in distraction were about to be greatly missed by my life destination choice. I ever so arrogantly created this blank unidentifiable wall that no one could penetrate with information that might have altered this choice. I defiantly kept my focus on my selfish attitude and walked forward deaf and impenetrable from all negative information. This definitely shrouded me from changing my mind, my arrogance got in the way of information that would have altered where I would land in my future destination.
There was excitement in the air leading up to my jaunt across America. I sold my house and took several months to neatly pack all the items into the many boxes that would arrive at my new destination at a later date. I never noticed that the material things that got packed, would hold more than I put into it physically. With each item there was attached unveiled and unresolved issues that hid themselves inside the objects I held so dear.
The time to begin my adventure seemed to never arrive soon enough. When I put the key into the ignition and had the dogs in the car, and my best friend with me to start the journey, the tires began to roll down the highway which put the extra mileage on unresolved issues that would lead me down another highway toward myself.....and that was a VERY LONG JOURNEY to the end of that highway of life.
It was titillating and fun to be silly and laugh cross country. Of course the Xanax and cocktails along the way kept it all light and wistful but the arrivals at our destinations along the way inched me closer to my airport for the crash landing that would occur at a later date. I never took the time to look at what I had built in my previous life port and what I destroyed with the sledgehammer of arrogance and stupidity. I defied the laws of yin and yang and rolled into the person that I ran from so discretely.
As the first few months of life in my new environment ticked by, I was like the kid in the playground. There were new sights, sounds, people and new surroundings. It was like an exciting feeling of a new drug that didn't tell you of it's side effects. I felt no need in trying to relate to the past so I did not keep actively in touch very often with the past that I left. As the time passed by I began to have too much time on my hands and the very friends and things that kept me distracted so well were no longer present and I had to listen to the information that began to crack open and pour through the brain cells that had been altered by chemical living. The ultimate reality would not hit me until that big truck arrived months later filled with the boxes that would build the fort of cardboard that would surround me and hide me from the outside world that I was currently living in. It however did not do much good to shield me from the world that I left behind, no, that came packed ever so neatly inside the boxes of selfish pride and arrogance.
I never meant to start that climb into the depths of the hell that my new valley held. I took the first step down when I opened the first box of the neatly packed possession's which unleashed a possession of it's own. As I began to unveil it's contents and hoping for no damage in transit, unbelievable reality eerily creeped into my vein's, and spread though me like a disease ready to infect every cell of my being with it's corrupt virus.
What have I done?
I looked around at the fort of boxes that crowded the living space I now called home and realized that I had packed up the same misery that I so wanted to leave behind. It came in the forms of material things but came attached with the viral load of unfinished problems that were pushed aside and never dealt with. It would start the spiral downward and put me on the floor shattered with realities spreading out from my injured misguided emotional mind like blood seeping it's way out of an injured body, releasing the life source that sustained it's very existence.
I began to bleed out the unfinished, unrealized, realities of the person that I was before and would never be again. It was devastating and took me to the floor where I stayed hidden inside the fortress of boxes that were stacked highly around the domain I named "HELL".
The following months were hard to recall as I lived within the confines of boxes, booze and barbiturates. The most labor that I did was the screwing off the tops of bottles that held my existence within. It was a crutch that held off the impending doom toward the arrival to myself. With each pill and cocktail that I took, the side effects just unwrapped more unfinished business. The only music that was played or heard was the "Song Of My Life" and boy that was one warped recording. It would take many long days and nights that led to many months before the courage to open those boxes arrived.
That particular day was not a pretty one. Much like today with the rain, grey skies and dampness all around, it ignites the memory of the day when I fell into the pain of all the befores.
The day arrived like all the rest, a hazy blur of the twenty fours before, the present twenty fours hours arrival. Only this time I awoke, not in a bed that smelled of liquor, but in the middle of a staircase leading up to the next floor above. Through the glass in the front door an actual ray of sunlight pierced my eyes and silently invited me towards it's warmth. I had no recollection of what happened the night before except the knotted muscles that ached from the contorted positions of how I slept on the stairs for god knows how long. At that very moment of awakening I had to make a decision to either stay down or get up. I was in no position to make that choice, yet humility took control and I stood up and moved upwards to the next floor toward my fort of material loneliness.
I made the repeated promise during my hot shower to take the plunge and get those damn boxes out of my sight. Now, realize that I had been procrastinating this same monotonous promise for months and still no action had occurred on the issue. However that shower and it's healing warmth seemed to do the trick. I like to believe it was magic water that sprinkled over my body that numbed me for the reality that I would soon embark on. The second the water was turned off, I once again began to avoid the inevitable. My best choice of an excuse to stall was to take the dogs for a walk and that would put more time distance between the dance I had to do with the boxes. I had myself pretty convinced that I would put it off another day, when I received a call that some dear friends from the past were making their visit my way. If that was the case then they would find out that I was a fraud and living like frightened, scared, lost human mess. I would have to pull it together and had less than 2 weeks with which to do so.
I reached for my liquid courage, took a huge gulp and once again opened the first box that I had so eagerly sealed back months before. I carefully and slowly lifted out the contents and assumed my position on the placement of each item. All the virtual memories surrounded the items and added more weight to my already laden brain overload. I endured hour after hour of paper and bubble wrap that surrounded each piece and anguished over the next box that I lifted from the stacks still standing. At times it felt surreal like someone else was doing the unpacking and I was the observer. Day after day I repetitiously opened, emptied and placed the contents from within all those cardboard containers. Each day my vision of solitude became more and more apparent only now I had to look at the items that stimulated my view from the past. To say I was in shock, was mild. I was extremely overwhelmed and frightened beyond anything I have ever experienced. Those final words from my previous psychotherapist became decidedly true. As I approached to leave his office for the last visit in finding out about myself he pointed out most directly one main thing to be aware of. Eventhough I went thru my deck of cards which represented my personality one card at a time, he made it very clear that the patterns of behavior, eventhough recognized, will reappear if you are not on guard to stop them before they repeat. That thought consumed me throughout my unpacking process and it would be the awakening statement that I needed, once again, the guidance of a professional or else discontinue life as I knew it at the moment.
I made it through the unpacking process unscathed of any physical damage, but the internal workings of my mind were no longer spotless. It was one big cloudy jumbled mess of unsolved emotions that needed to be put into some kind of order and a perspective to which I could relate to. Unfortunately winter had made a delayed exit and the water never ceased to flow from the clouds that languished by everyday. I did not know or want this kind of environment and my urge to flee and retreat became my objective. How could I run away and admit defeat without giving in to the fact that I did not completely think this transition through completely. After confessing that in a private session with the head shrink, I awkwardly realized my own answer to that pointed question.
If I HAD thought it through and walked in the fields of "WHAT IF'S, I would not be recognizing all that needed to be dealt with if I HAD stayed put, where it all seemed safe and serene, yet unfulfilled. I knew at that moment that I had to bear the pain of this life choice recognition before I could move forward toward any peace of mind. I left that office extremely nauseous and made it home in time to vomit out the first load of pain that encapsulated by entire being. Yes my new friend would be Mr. ToTo Porcelain, and with each arrival of recognized truths about myself, he would always be waiting for me to release a little more bile of crap that projectiled out of my mouth and into the bowl of water that would be flushed away, with hopes of never returning again. As each day passed and the seasons changed, I began to adjust to the choice that I had made. I began to venture beyond the confines that I felt so safe in and which overshadowed the future that I had planned to conquer when I arrived high in fantasy of a new life.
I asked my genie for a new life, and the universe delivered just like it always does, however I forgot to include more details when I asked for my wish. I discovered that you can always get what you asked for, just be careful that you know EXACTLY what IT is in detailed order. The aspects of which you didn't prepare for will rise up making you to have to think in ways you never knew existed within you.
I planned for a safe landing on arrival to my NEW self, however this time I crashed. It was a crash landing of momentous proportions. The plane on which I traveled blew apart and left the pieces of my ego spread across the three thousand miles that I traveled to the destination known as.... ME.