Desert Island

 

     I've been on this island for a while now; trying to get off of it, trying to understand how I got here, trying to figure out what I can do from a land inhabited by no one. Can I harvest food? Can I find some way to bring some joy to a seeming wasteland of memories and regret and rage? Do I even want to leave? 

     Oh, to taste the things I tasted before. I remember how sweet it felt to do things that brought me comfort, how good it was to have the luxuries of favorite things...and a direction, a passion, and even little things like a can of soda. Back when I was on ground everything was so...I took so much for granted and I didn't/still don't fully realize what it means to go from solid main land to this island. The solitary isolation at times figuratively chokes me until I literally can't breathe and at other times it's starting to become the only thing I know and trust. God herself knows I can't trust anything else.

     I'm trying my hardest to keep my head above water, to keep from letting the insanity of my reality overtake me but this island does funny things to your mind when you only have your own broken thoughts to listen to and argue and eventually agree with. I tried catching fish but the water all around me is rotten and void of edible life and I tried to build a boat to carry me back to land but the barrier I created is too strong. It's like a hurricane wind, continually strengthening up when I go in the direction of freedom only.

     So I have two choices: look around the island and try to gather supplies to build something sustainable somehow or sit down. And stay there. Till the next big storm challenges me and wins. I've had tidal waves come ever so close to defeating me before, but that was on mainland. That was with technology and some kind of system in place to support my existence. Now I stand on the edge of this resort of sorts, looking out into the unending ocean and...I feel queasy. At best, I get numb and picture myself in a life worth living. One where I know what it means to be a superhero to someone, to anyone...or at least be willing to do what it takes to be one.

     The very last thing that brought me to this desert land was out of my control but I know that I caused the events that started that chain reaction the ended in my desolation here in the land of nowhere, nothing. I could be upset that things were 'unfair' or even wrong but an empty, lifeless detached paralysis regularly takes over because I know (in the back and front of my mind) that I directed my path to the place where 'unfair' and wrong and whatever other negative outcomes I see and absorb right nowhere the only possibilities. If you choose a flimsy  boat and push things way too far and put too much out there, what the hell do you expect as a result?! Right? 

     So I'm here, trying to convince myself something is worth something. I see that everything is better with me on this island, the grass actually is greener...as long as I'm thousands  of miles from the grass and can't hurt or ruin good things. 

     So I guess I DO know what to do. The only way to help the civilized world is to protect it from me.The greater good is the only thing that matters, right? And since I'm not good and I shouldn't be a part of civilization and since the grass deserves to be the best it can be, then this island is my home. And I can't let anyone step foot on the wasteland of a beach here. And I can't allow myself to believe I could be anything other than what I am, whatever that is.

     I used to say you can do anything as long as you put your mind to it and that's still true...for you. I just have to keep in my mind (at all times) the fact that I need to stay away from any main land, anyone's world and I need to stay away from anywhere that growth, positivity, love and unity are present. I make those things rot no matter what my intentions are or what I 'try' to accomplish.

     I won't forget what I am, nor will I forget the effect I have. 

Now what? I have no idea

      Sitting here, I was just thinking long and hard about a time when I could consider myself an athlete. I used to play hockey 4 days a week, practice probably twice that and played silly games with Tre when he was under 10 years old and energetic as possible. But now, I sit here typing at 2:42 in the morning in Wisconsin after eating a small bowl of dry cereal just to taste something sweet. And this is after a full day of fighting bitterness by ignoring the rest of the world in my room by myself.

     I have no idea how I got to where I am, life seems so crazy. At times I feel like I'm at my most sane ever and other times I feel like I can't complete one single simple thought without needing to question just how insane it is. I feel so alone, I haven't had a real conversation with any humans in months and even longer since I trusted anyone or anything...or at least I thought I trusted. I've since found out that so much of what I trusted was a complete lie and that's one of the hardest lessons I've ever learned.

     So I sit here this late ( or early if you're an optimist) and I wonder what it would take for me...the brokenest whatever I am to find even a small amount of calmness or peace or...something good rather than the most tense version of anxiety that has kept me at a great distance from the nearest comfort.

     I've had so much time to dwell  in my own thoughts and I have no idea how to get away from recent events that changed the course of my entire future. For the first time ever, I thought I found my purpose. I thought I never had to wonder where my heart would be fully invested in again. I thought, "This won't be easy and won't ever allow me to glorify myself or have a career of any kind but the reward of helping those that truly need and deserve it was worth it all. To be clear, none of that is a sacrifice I ever deserved or wanted any credit for; I want to be worth sacrificing things but my life was worthless so there's nothing to take any credit or "clout" it was just a path I thought was settled from now on.

     All that was taken away, some was my fault and some was not. Once rumors were started, too many believed without even questioning even the ridiculous ones; I learned who was never actually on my side and who just didn't care to even ask if I was doing or saying crazy things. I've been angry, sad, hurt, destroyed, reflecting on every single action I committed and so many more emotions that I truly think have aged me decades in the last 6 months. I'm trying my hardest to find a reason not to give up and leave everyone on this earth better off without me and my cursed soul in their way...I'm not really finding much to hold onto  or to convince me to stay. In fact, I've seen so much that proves I'm being selfish and doing wrong by NOT leaving everyone for good. 

     Guess we'll see what the future holds...I don't really have many answers...