Myrtle Cay – Maybe (part 6)

Francis

I fear pauses, stops, discontinuance, freezes, standstill. I don’t fear hurdles, I fear halts. I fear those periods of grim blankness that tend to seep in the interim between two phases or activities. I like it when things are on the move. They may move up, they may move down, forward or backward, as long as they are moving, I am satisfied, happy contended. As long as they keep going on, I feel at peace. A sense of tranquility passes through me with every movement. Momentum, that’s the real word. Life must have momentum for me to be secure, all things must have momentum for me to feel at peace. Momentum, it drives me, like ambition drives some.

Just, carry on.

There are some phases that always stay stuck in your head.  I am not going to lie, they are  not crystal clear, the edges are kind of blurred, like the ones of an old photograph. The memories are not as strong as they used to be, the scents not as sharp, the voices not as loud, the faces not as prominent, but it’s there, all there.  The abeyance did me in, they wrecked me completely untill I was so reduced that it took all the life left within me to get myself back together. They were harsh, had a reducing effect. And it was nearly impossible to move past them. It wasn’t only me. It was everyone. The depression, it was like a tide. I tried to smile through it, but the tide always hit me the hardest. Or maybe, again, it wasn’t me. It was everyone. They were all drowning in the thick black ocean of misery, and no matter how hard I tried to stay afloat, they pulled me down and under. Inch by inch, untill I had gone deeper than any of them. When I was sinking, everything was stilled, like I was in a sweet, sweet sleep. It felt like swimming in honey, thick. Numb, I was so, so numb. I lost all feelings. All my body parts felt detached. I wasn’t guiding myself any longer, because I didn’t want to, because giving up was much easier, because I realized I didn’t have to fight. I could get under the falsely alluring blanket of despair, let it wrap around me, and go to sleep in its warm embrace. I didn’t have to keep going through the pain. I could give up. I could be rid of the pain. 

And then, the slow sinking came to halt as I hit the sharp bottom with so much force that I was violently awakened from my deep slumber and yanked out of my bittersweet nightmare. I was alive once more. I was seeing, I was moving, I was feeling. And all that had disappeared in the falling-through-honey phase, was now back. It crashed over me in full force. I was overwhelmed. The fear, the pain, the sorrow, the feeling of slowly dying. It was all there. It was back. And that’s when the truth hits me hard. The last thing I should be doing was giving up, surrendering, stopping, I didn’t have much time as it was. I should be living as much as I could, each moment to the fullest. I should be celebrating each second, each breath. Yes, it would be hard. Yes, it would be painful. But all the hurdles in the world aren’t worth what I have, what I could make for myself. 

And so, with this realization ruling my head, zest and zeal taking over my heart, eagerness and love for life making me go into a state of ecstasy, I shoot back. Up, up, up, up, untill I am back at the surface. I am back at the top of things. I no longer want to get wrapped in the blanket of despair. Rather, I want to grab handfuls of it and tear into shreds, then feed it to the vast sky. That would be like rubbing it in, its insignificance.  It’s just another little nothing in the boundless sky. And that indeed, is one of the most awakening moments for me. I am back, and I intend on staying. And it’s not only me. It’s everyone.

Now when I think back to that time, I cannot be more grateful for that hard hit, even though it hurt. Even though it still hurts. Even though I am still in pain. And will always be. Sleep still feels much sweeter, much easier. But when I feel water between my fingers, when I laugh so hard that tears stream down my face, when I walk barefoot on the cold beach sand, when I watch the beautiful, perfect dawn. Those are the moments that make fighting worth all the pain. They remind of why I made that decision to stay. They remind what joy is, what it feels like. Bliss.

But there are things that haunt me. Questions, questions, dancing in my head. Maybe I am going too fast. Maybe, I am moving too much for my own good. Maybe, I need to slow down. Maybe, I need to cherish things, moments, people. Maybe, I really need to breathe once in a while. Maybe, I am missing out on all that, which needs to be savoured. Maybe, just maybe, my speed is the real thing slowing me down, keeping me from what I want the most. But do I want it the most? And what if, I can never get faster again? What if I stop? Halt? I can’t have that. Not again. Because it won’t only be me. It would be everyone.

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