I wish I could just disappear for a while. Go under the radar a few years or so and work on some projects on my own. I have one such project I can become obsessed with and am tempted to do so. People are so often toxic to me, and it’s not that something is wrong with them, it’s me. It’s my perception of them.
I would go to work on the days I had it, get my 8 hours of socialization in (hating most of it). Come home, eat or rest and get to work on my research or the nitty gritty bits of my project. This sounds great to me.
I guess things probably won’t work out that way. But, I wish they would. All of my bad thoughts, they’re subverted when I’m obsessing over something, whether it’s random number writing, pieces of elegant poetry, some girl, or a wonderful endeavor I’m working towards. But in these moments of obsession, I’m highly irritable and eventually lose focus or need to take a breather, and then it happens. Thoughts of self harm, worthlessness, anger knowing that I’m only providing diversions in an otherwise cruel world…
I recently wrote about an “incident” I had at work. That was the first time I ever wrote or really spoke any specifics about an incident. It got me thinking. I really am not all well in the head. I remember one night I woke up after a nightmare and saw a man standing in the closet. He brought his index finger to his lips as a gesture for me to keep quiet. He stood there for a moment, and I too terrified to breathe. He slowly shook his head no as I tripped getting out of bed hitting my head on the door to the bathroom, when I turned around he was gone and my head was hurting. I screamed for my mom and didn’t sleep any more that night, I was about 13 then.
Or what about the man who called my name from the wheelchair in the mall? That one happened in high school. Shouting at me, he just kept yelling my name. I even waved awkwardly before sitting down and he was nowhere to be found. What about the plump lady in black with a purple umbrella who always had a cat on a leash I could always catch glimpses of but never much more than that? She showed up a lot.
What about the brief moments I’ve thought I was God trying to experience life as a human, forsaking my own memory to try to get the full experience? Backing this up with rationality that God has to be one of us because he wasn’t doing His job if He was upstairs.
What about when I swore I kept a dream journal for a month and wrote down as many details as I could and when I experienced deja vu and recalled writing about it, it never turned up in the place I stashed it (or anywhere for that matter)? What about the time that I recited something aloud, in an almost trance-like state before I had ever heard it, and then it played for me to hear minutes later?
The list goes on. It really does. I mean, how crazy am I really? Because I know I don’t have a gift for seeing the dead or predicting the future, nothing like that. The only rational explanation is that I’m delusional.
It’s been a concern of mine if my memories are even real. Why is that? I know I’m intelligent. The metrics show that. The academic competitions show that. Speaking with me shows that. Remembering a lot of trivial things that really have no place shows that. Maybe my brain is wired all wrong and genius was just a precursor for my madness. Am I just worried about my memories because it doesn’t seem to fit together rationally?
Oh the amount of crazy inside me… It’s a lot more than I reveal. I’ve just told Jaslyn about some of it. Some nice juicy bits. Now the room feels like it’s spinning… I think I need to wrap up the post for now…