I admit I am becoming drunk on the sense of possibility.
I should explain.
I’ve always been so goddamn suicidal that the answer to the question of what I wanted to do with my life was meaningless.
I wanted to die.
That was it.
That veil is lifting now and I’m remembering what it’s like to use my brain for things.
Good lord am I rusty.
But I’m getting better.
I’m seeing potential in things and ideas whereas before I only saw obstacles.
What a gift.
Now to go gently, so I don’t flame out.
Tag Archives: potential
Whisper Sweetly
I have never been able to view myself as smart. Other people would hold that for me- teachers, tests, peers. My self esteem would not allow it. My parents had a systematic lack of regard for what I HAD done versus what I COULD do. “A 97? Why not a 100? A 100? Why not perfect attendance? We’re worried about your weight. Say, why are you coming home in tears so often? I guess it’s a teenager thing. Must need some space.” I lived in the shadow of my own potential, and my potential whispered sweetly about dreams and a future and having worth.
I cried writing the end of that sentence right there. It sinks me that I remain so far away from viewing myself as a creature with worth, yet I can dialectically hold the concept that all lives have inherent worth. I remain a raw, rotten lump of meat in the corner, an exception.
It’s been a rough 6 weeks or so. I’ve gotten strep, kinda beat it, had it come back with a vengeance and morph into walking pneumonia. My testosterone shot caused a giant weird painful lump in my leg. My mental health regressed enough that I ended up in a crisis residential program for a week. Additionally I’ve been in the ER three times, the Urgent Care once, and my PCP once. I got in a car accident and messed up my shoulder nicely. My anxiety is through the roof. Also, I’m not sure if it’s related to the car accident or the strep-hell but I can’t bind because it makes me completely unable to breathe. I’ve missed enough work that I’m worried about whether they’ll just give up on me like my last employer did.
I also got married, so that was cool.
I kept doing this weird thing during all this stress though. I kept house shopping.
See, I found out we were eligible for a down payment assistance program that’s really nifty.
It was a fun distraction if nothing else. But I let myself hope, and when it came down to it, if you’re getting 36 hours and your company still calls you part time, you have to have been there for 2 years.
Bye-bye hope.
I’ve had big dreams in the past.
Now all I want is a cute little fixer-upper and to SOMEDAY finish a damn degree above an Associate’s.
I was supposed to be so smart. One of those assholes that throws off the curve.
I’ll probably work entry level for the rest of my life because I am deeply, profoundly mentally ill.
Maybe smart doesn’t mean much if you’re broken.
The big bad monster crept out of my mind to stab potential repeatedly.
It doesn’t whisper anymore.
Grow or fail
When I
told her
I didn’t
deserve her,
she didn’t
pad my ego.
She only
told me that
she sees
the potential.
And I
can’t imagine
anything
more perfect.
She nuzzled
into me,
grabbing at my hoodie
every time
I tried to escape,
and I felt love
in each harsh tug.
It’s something
like comfort,
reminding me
that I am capable
of making choices,
waiting until I can
make a decent choice
all by my lonesome,
that I can
have goals
and succeed.
And she
kissed me
on the cheek and
let me leave and
closed the blinds
while I let
my tiny car idle.
I think tomorrow
I’ll put in some
job applications and
never ever talk
to my family again,
now that the only one
that truly cared,
the only one
who never made me
hate myself,
is gone.
It’s either
time
to grow
or
time to fail.
Something
I don’t remember what exactly we had been talking about when Alyssa looked at me and said “You’re destined for greatness.”
“Yeah, okay, JOSH.” Kind of sad that the best response to that was to point to another person with similar hopes about me.
“You have too much going on in you to not be meant to do something.” The emotion in her eyes was genuine.
I brought up a story from the night before. “You should’ve heard what Josh said when I mentioned trying for that job. He goes on, ‘When they ask you to weld aluminum to titanium and then stainless steel and loop it around again, you smile at them and say “I got this. I did that last week.” Because you can. You tell them that you’re the best damn welding engineer in the city. In the state. Because you KNOW you. You know your learning curve, you’re smarter than 99% of people out there. You got this. You just gotta know it.’ I just looked at him, a little stunned(only slightly thinking about the metallurgical sins he mentioned) and said ‘You really believe that.’ He gave me his you’re-the-smartest-idiot-I-know grin and said. ‘I do. ‘”
“Yeah, he’s right. There’s no reason that you can’t be the best in the state.”
“There’s a lot of people out there that are smarter than me.”
“Josh and I both see something in you- and we’re negative people. For you, we’re hopeful cynics.”
I cocked my head and nuzzled in with “I collect the delusional.”
“We’re not delusional. We just see the potential in you. And how brilliant it must be, if the negative people see it in you.”
I kissed her, she wrapped her hands behind my neck and told me to leave.
“I’m getting mixed messages…”
She smiled, kissed me, and then let go of my neck.
“Go home. Write me something.”
Rexicorn 