The Monster I Keep in my Pocket

There is a monster that I keep in my pocket everyday.
It is small and dark and completely terrifying.
But it is also small enough that I put it in my pocket for the day.
The monster is a killer with gnashing teeth and beady eyes.
People likely have similar monster in their pockets.
Some do and some don't; but I'll never know.
That's because we don't talk about the monsters in our pockets.
We all know some have them and some don't.
But we all act like no one has them at all.
Somewhere along the time it became easier to ignore the monsters.
Even though I carry mine with me it doesn't always bother me.
Some days I can almost feel like I don't have a monster at all.
I want to be one of those people without any monster.
We all want to be one of those people.
But we don't talk about our monsters.
When it acts out my monster can cripple me with doubt.
My monster can derail my life.
My monster can even take away my will to live.
I could take my life but then the monster wins.
I refuse to be beaten by this monster.
Or any other monster that may replace this one.

My monster is called depression.

What Do I Do?

I have this recurring dream that is semi regular at this point. In the dream I stand on the edge of a great cliff that looks around and is surrounded by air on three side and a treacherous hill to my back. Surely arriving at the top of this metaphorical mountain must have been an incredible hike. Yet as I stand on the edge and stretch my arms out to either side I feel fear inside my soul. As I stand the wind kicks up and swirls around me in the air causing the dirt to kick up and twirl on the breeze. Then a magnanimous voice from above says "you know what to do!" The voice says it with such ferocity that it is surely growing out of patience with me. "What if I don't make it?" I asked the body-less voice as if to start some ethereal conversation. "Then you know the other choice is" it loudly responds.

At first I thought that the dream was about depression as I felt like the voice was telling me to stand tall and what laid in front on me was a bottomless black pit that I should avoid. But sometimes I fall in the dream and I think it is not so bad, the fall isn't what scares me so much as knowing what awaits at the bottom.

But as I recall more and more of the night time scenery I am beginning to suspect that that message is different. I think that thing I am suppose to do is fly. Sometimes more recently I don't jump/fall off the cliff and then I die of old age just standing there afraid to move. That then would be the second thing the voice warns me about.

My brain is working through something where it is necessary to make a choice. I can either take a chance and go for it, which would be symbolized by jumping. Or I can remain on the cliff which would mean not taking whatever that chance was. If I don't jump, I grow old and die on the cliff having always been afraid of it but never knowing if I would fall or if I would fly. But if I take the chance and jump, I may fall but I may also fly. And flying would be the most wonderful thing my heart can imagine.

So do you let life pass you by? Or do you take the chance? Stand on the cliff? Or jump? The choice is yours.

New Year - New Challenge?

The plan was to start the new year off right and get back to putting words on paper every day but that fell apart hard. I began 2015 with some great ideas and plans to write but also with the flu. So that's always fun but it isn't an excuse. So it may be eleven days late but here is the new year writing challenge I have set about for myself.

Cliche Boxing Metaphor?

It's not about getting knocked down. Hell, EVERYONE gets knocked down but your life can be made or broken by what actions you take after you get knocked to the mat. In that moment you need to decide what you are going to do, this is harder when it happens during the worst moment of your life but it is important CRUCIAL. Do you stay down and wait for the count out or do you get back up and keep fighting?

You and you alone bear the burden for your decision here. It is easy to blame the person or thing that knocked you over and some people blame the 'counter' while being counted out. But those are just decisions you made to stay down and blame whatever you could. Me? I am a quitter from way back. In fact I have quit on almost everything I have ever started including my writing 'career.' What is worse is that I have blamed the entity that knocked me down for my quitting in the past. This doesn't make me feel like a winner, it only makes me feel like a quitter, and I hate feeling like a quitter.

I am making changes and they start with me.

Sunset

If all you have at the end of your life is your memories and experiences, it could be reasoned that life is made up of these moments. The number of people for whom there are monuments is minute. So I vow to work my entire life toward having a monument in my honor when I pass but I also promise to never lose sight of the moments that make up the path I choose to walk. Those experiences and memories I spoke of so romantically are important, so I will keep them in my heart. Then at the end of it all, even if I don't have statues or pages in the history books I will still have led the kind of life that is rich in those moments.

I Enjoy This

What is in your brain? A sense of urgency? A yawn? What am I thinking about right now? The issue is that you have to turn off everything to find out. You must eliminate all distractions, no matter how important. to find out what is truly on your mind. I hum sometimes when I am writing a piece that really means something and I feel like I am on a 'roll.' That is to say that I am humming along. Ah humorous word play. But the issue at hand before my distracting confession was how do you unplug sufficiently to access what is truly on ones mind? Since I was siting here and I couldn't figure out what to write about. Then is began to unravel in my mind that I was still to jacked in to concentrate on what I was thinking. And since you write with your heart and edit later, it would behoove me to figure out what was on my mind. My assumption being that by figuring out what was truly buried in the depths of my subconscious, I would somehow magically figure out what was in my heart. Or am I simply writing away some deeper pain? Wouldn't that be this risk of figure out what was in fact in my heart of hearts. This may read strange as hell and I will make no apologies as I am clearly working through something bigger then myself.

But then the like the song changing in the headphones and I am off the path I was bearing down and on to something else. Or am I? Since I never dove deep enough into my soul to actually figure it out I couldn't possibly know if I have change the path or not. All I know is that you can't force this out like toothpaste, it has to bubble up inside me and work its way out of my fingers when it is ready. Nothing sounds worse to me then when I am forcing myself to put words out on paper. This usually manifests itself in academic works that shall we say have a certain number of words required. Although I do count myself fortunate that whatever I vomit onto those pieces is generally highly regarded and is often successful in achieving the goal of a passing grade. I do listen to music when I write. I know some people don't but I find the music excites me and helps me punch the keys on the input device of choice.

Time Will Tell

I hate feeling like I am being forced to do something. Sometimes I feel that way about things I enjoy doing. I only wish I understood how to keep something I love from becoming a forced job. One of the great mysteries of my life I suppose.