Good as new

Something strange just happened.

I just realized that I am OK.

Seriously, this is a revelation. I’ve been up most of the night just pondering the sheer wondrousness of it all.

I’ve lost weeks worth of sleep, though, wondering if things would turn out all right or if I would survive whatever strife was in my life. I pulled away from everyone I knew and loved, mostly because I knew that if I couldn’t stand myself, how could anyone else? People like you when you’re bright and up and positive (and a hell of a lot of those people only like you when you’re the one who can pick them up). What astounded me during my down period was not just how many people headed for the hills (and dared to return only after the storm had ended), but also how strong the few were who chose to remain present when I would let them get near me.

In any event, I guess I realized sometime yesterday that I am not dead inside — that I am not simply going through the motions of being happy. I’ve often theorized that one must “fake it till ya make it” — that if you keep telling yourself long enough and convincingly enough that things are good, well then, those good things will follow.

I daresay “I told you so.” 😉

Is life perfect? Not so much. But can I handle it in its current incarnation? Abso-fucking-lutely.

The thing is, when something bad happens to you, it seems like a bunch of other bad things follow. And, moreover, it’s like you are the only person who ever experienced those particular misfortunes — hell, it’s like you’re the only person who has EVER had a streak of luck that bad. And while you’re happy that your friends are having successes, there’s another part of you that just wants them to shut the hell up and leave you alone until your own muse is ready to kick your ass into your next opportunity to turn that luck around.

I often wonder about the choices I’ve made and the repercussions they’ve had — like, would I have done it all over again, if given the chance?

And for all the heartache, tears, suffering, torture, agony, etc., I look at my life now and, believe it or not, I will say yes. Certain roads I was traveling were dead ends, and I’m sad to say that I knew that when I was packing my suitcases for the journey. And traveling back up a dead end is the worst feeling in the world — your mistakes are magnified when you’re forced to look at them on your way out. And then when you return to the crossroads, you see where you came from originally and you see the other road that didn’t work out. And you tend to go in all directions at once, hoping that something, anything will feel right. You get a lot of false leads, too — and a lot of false hope — and it’s always the road that you didn’t see at first that ends up being the path of least resistance. It’s like it appears just when you are ready to give up.

I guess what I’m trying to say-but-not-say is that I’ve still got a lot of scars that need to heal, but for the fact that they are now scars and not bleeding, gaping wounds is a triumph in and of itself. It means that the healing has been in progress. And, sure, I still get squirrelly and freaked out as I wonder if this is all a mirage and that the proverbial rug will be yanked out from under me. But my faith in myself and in others is starting to solidify again.

I was reading on a friend’s blog about people being on the rebound. And my comment to that was, aren’t all of us on the rebound from something? I mean, the next person I choose to love isn’t going to be competing with any recent exes, but they are going to have to be strong enough to know that I’ve got the occasional demon to battle. We all do — there’s nothing special about that. And I have had to realize that I am not the only person who has had to masquerade as a functional human being when I was feeling like anything but.

One of my favorite phrases is “moving forward.” I used it a lot in former jobs when I was supervising people or when I would make a small goof here and there — as in, “moving forward, this is how we will prevent that or change the outcome.” I never worried back then — I knew that each day was a new day that brought a clean slate and a fresh chance to start all over again, only with the added bonus of hindsight. I don’t hold grudges (much), and I guess I can safely say that neither does the universe.

And while I don’t know how or where I will end up, I do know that the wind has been gently pushing me down the road I’ve been on for the past few months. For the past couple of years, I almost felt as though I were swimming against the current. But now, this path really does lack resistance — for once in my life, I feel like the universe has positioned me exactly where I need to be. And it’s up to me to run with it and position myself for even bigger and better things. Because — and this is what kept me up most of the night — I had one of my crazy visions, and I saw myself being purely, blissfully happy. And whether it’s a premonition or wishful thinking, well, it’s up to me to paint the picture I want to see. The neat thing about having a brand-new, blank canvas is that you can torch the old pictures and use any old paint colors you want to create the image that you want to go after.

Bring out the brushes and the drop cloth and forget the canvas — I’m ready to paint the whole City of Alexandria with my dreams. I never WAS one to do anything on the small scale!

On iTunes: Evanescence, “Tourniquet”

One Lonely Response to Good as new

  1. Dave Tepper :

    Whoo-hoo! There was never a doubt in my mind you’d reach this point. 😀 Congratulations, and when do I get to buy you a drink to celebrate? It’s been too long.