The Pain Fear and Frights of Life

I am infinitely small beneath the stars.

I am infinitely big upon the world.

Although once upon a while or three, I am held down…crushed by these here my emotions.

Tough as I am, at times my lofty self-fabrications reign supreme, not to be defeated or bettered awhile.

This current two-year-plus book writing disconnect, somewhat concerning. My latest head injury, worrisome still. The price perhaps is the ultimate one being paid yet alas, the ridiculousness of my depth is correct, by my measure.

Yesterday my heart beated fearfully harder than the cage and the skin of my chest could hold. I fled to the woods on my bike anticipating the explosion, wanting to avoid leaving such a bloody projectile mess behind in the house for someone else to scrape up and bag.

Somehow, my frantic organs retained themselves, the plausibility somewhat beyond reason for goodness sake. Certainly my heart was failing, arterial swelling or maybe then a mounting stroke it seemed. As it may have been, I just needed to get outside awhile and away from the clack-clack of this here my keyboard and well…boo-fucking-hoo.

Hell if I know but I do not think any of us are really that different. I believe we share the same worries but for all one knows, I am slipping. Conceivably my CTE is flaring up. Credibly I’m spot-on. Feasibly I am speaking frankly, openly, judgments be damned…impossible to know for certain.

Fear.

I fear being apart from my people. I fear being lost in the woods sans flashlight sans blanket. I fear I have given away the best of me. I fear being avoided, discarded, pushed aside or left behind on purpose.

Fright.

Yelling tears me down, literally. Yelling wrecks my foundational superstructure of knowing I’m ok, I’m safe, I’m loved. I would literally rather someone beat me with a bat than yell at me, it hurts much less.

Pain.

Distrust cuts deepest though. I would rather they behead me than lie to me. I would rather be undetectably poisoned than lied to. I would rather you steal all my money, burn down my house, tattoo my face, use pliers to rip out my teeth, cut off my tongue with a serrated steak knife and cripple me than lie to me, it hurts much less. I would rather you tell me you hate me and everyone hates me, that I am ugly and no one will ever love me, that I am the stupidest and you never want to talk to me never ever never again, than distrust me wrongly.

In these ways and more, at times my emotional compass keeps me guardrailed on these domineering paths. Imaginably, my neurocognitive diseases expose me now in ridiculously advanced ways. Tenably, another neurological affliction is creeping in. It may be I am going slightly mad from too much time in this here the emotional writing well. For all one knows I am factually broken inside and out, impossible to know for certain…it’s been quite a ride.

Last night, I grabbed a view of the sunset, best I could.

Maybe yesterday’s sundown was my last, maybe I have 900 more.

Maybe I will catch the best vantage point of the sunup this morning.

Maybe I have already seen my last rise and set, and any of that is all ok.

If I am afforded one more, I will try my best fucking try just like I do.

Be it not about the money, the stuff, the friends the loves or the emotions, it is and be it about the try.

And it is about not, not, not fucking giving up.

I will just try my best, my very fucking best, my fears my frights the yelling and all, best I can.

Some hours some days the try is the best I can do, the best any of us can do, the dishonesties the distrusts and all.

Love you.

Love you all.

You have made my life so much better than I could have ever made it on my own, thank you.

Here’s to another sunrise, another sunset, because it’s impossible to know for certain.

~ Roger Ray Bird out.