Too Much of the Walking Dead, Perhaps
April 12, 2013 § 2 Comments
I feel like a zombie. Cleo was my rock for so many years. I feel empty.
Freedom is slavery.
Without her, what do I do? Where can I go? Without an old dog to worry about and fuss over, I have a wide open world in front of me. I could go anywhere. I’d give up all that freedom to have her back, to have that stability of knowing what my life would look like in some way. She ensured routine, she ensured emotional interaction, she ensured that I keep going. Now I’m alone and lost in a big, wide world that is deaf and blind to me.
I have nothing that I wanted. I don’t have alec, I don’t have cleo, I don’t have a single PhD acceptance letter, I don’t have a job offer. If you told me a year ago that this is where I would end up, I never would have believed you. “I’m strong, I’m resourceful, I’ll make it work.” is what I would say to you, spitting fire and glaring at you for ever suggesting that I would lose anything that I fought so hard to keep. I’ve lost it all.
Things fall apart;
the center cannot hold.
My center of gravity is completely gone. For a while, since I moved home, things have been topsy-turvy. I scrambled and floundered, grasping at the strangers around me, searching in desperation for some hand hold to stop things from spinning out of control. I don’t know where the moment of change occurred, but at some point, I did stop. Now I’m floating in space, unable to create the momentum needed to move, unable to reach out to those around me. I float in the cold, dark, empty and infinite space. Not moving but drifting, not waving but drowning. I feel nothing, not the pull of gravity nor the wonderful oppressiveness of the humidity of atmosphere. I feel nothing and have no momentum to move, no motivation to choose a direction to go in. Just infinite space.
Hanging on is what’s important here. Even if I’m floating, I have to continue to function in some way. I have to stay conscious. People keep saying, “things will work out, they always do” and “something will come up, you’ll see.” What if I don’t? Things just keep getting worse. What if “things working out” just means that things crash and burn. What if there aren’t any pieces left to try to pick up.
The realist in me acknowledges that things could always be worse. I am thankful that my amazing family, sans a dog and a man, are always there for me. I am thankful that my body, while constantly sick, still continues to function. I’ve had a fever for the last two days and my stomach has refused to properly digest food in the last 24 hours. My insomnia has been severe for the last two weeks or more. But I don’t have cancer. My body is holding on.
The academic in me sees a pattern. I’ve lost the things that I’ve clung to most dearly. Alec is gone, cleo is gone, my dreams of PhD are gone. For years, those were my three main foci. Those three things were all I wanted. All three are now gone in less than a year. My heart keeps breaking, then the pieces break more, then the pieces are crushed to dust. There is nothing left to pick up, to try to put back together. My heart is gone, my soul is unrecognizable, whatever core I had is demolished. For what? Why? What kind of cruel lesson is the Universe teaching me? Life sucks and then you die. Oh, Alexa, you’re always so dramatic, you’re always so negative. Things aren’t so bad.
Floating in space, everything feels cold and out of reach. Moving in any direction is impossible, not just because I lack the momentum to move but because there is no real direction. Everything is nothing, everywhere is nowhere. Does it even matter where I go at this point?
I have to leave. I need to be on my own, really feel what it means to be Alexa in this world. No more alec, no more cleo, no more clear PhD plan. I need to feel like what it is to be me. I need to find a center of gravity that isn’t attached to a person, or a pet, or a program. I need to reconnect with my own center of gravity.
Instead of space dust, I want to be the sun.
I just can’t let myself disappear before I figure out how to make that happen. For now, I float, suspended.