I sit and wait, nerves tingling. I wonder what the hell am I doing? There’s too much risk involved. I am taking one hell of a chance. I stare at the clock watching the seconds go by wondering if I can actually do this. Feeling physically sick, emotionally discombobulated. The last time I was so vulnerable I was badly bruised by leaving ribs exposed to the fatal punch at the moment of utmost weakness.
Am I brave enough to do it again?
Do I have the intestinal fortitude?
Have I regained my mental strength?
Do I feel safe?
As that last question dances around my brain for what seems like a lifetime, the moment of truth arrives. My brain tries to process several thoughts at once.
Don’t talk too quickly.
Don’t be egocentric
Smile where possible
I feel really stupid. Do other people see this?
God, why am I doing this?
I hope I say the right thing
I hope I do the right thing
Fuck my muscles are tight, I hope I don’t spasm
And then it comes.During the past year this blog has been filled with misery, heartache, pain and fear. These emotions are easy to express for nothing can get any worse, and therefore I have nothing to lose. Expressing happiness here comes in the form of a rave review, a political meditation or philosophical notion. I cannot express too much happiness on this page because I might throw this state into jeopardy, or even worse look upon a post with extreme bitterness retrospectively and then all its importance is lost. This is the reason I give when asked why the majority of my content is cynical and jaded. To be truthful daily life as a crip affords few moments of genuine utter happiness for me. I have increasingly found that these opportunities only arise if and when I’m populated amongst like minded souls or when I am challenged.
‘Hi My name is Todd.’
For the past year. I have failed on almost every occasion to present my complete self. Too much anger, too much pain, too much fear, lest I get hurt again. However this time I have no idea what I’m scared of. Conversation flows.
This places an enormous responsibility on friends old and new to carry my emotional weight. Take one new person I met recently, IC. New people like IC are hard to come by, they don’t know how I think, or how I operate, or that I am recovering from an emotional trauma. IC cannot read my mind nor, can tell that I’m about to evolve into a panic attack just because I have worked myself up in such a state at the prospect of meeting someone new.
Hi my name is Todd, I am a social misfit.
And yet I survived to be showered with praise, and compliments. We will meet again. Most importantly I know that when we do I’ll be not only comfortable, but revert back to the better version of myself.
It’s for this reason I know I have turned the corner. The dark clouds have gone now. 359 days after my personal hell began, I can boldly and bravely declare that I feel the ordeal has ended. The fact that I was tough enough to withstand those inner questions and personal doubts whilst thriving is proof that I have moved on to the next phase of life.
It is about fucking time.