In the way, and a mess…
I’m overwhelmed these day by so little. For instance get more than two people in a room and I struggle to keep up with the conversation, it’s like I forget how to function. I become quiet, I withdrawal. I didn’t used to be like this, I used to be one that engaged with others. I was more our going. I’ve become timid in a lot of situations.
It’s weird, how when with people that I know and respect; and who have been my support and strength, and have been there through so much; I withdraw. I feel like I don’t fit; it doesn’t matter where or who I am with I feel like I’m out of place.
It’s like I’m the awkward stranger. To me that’s what I am; the guy who doesn’t remembers a big portion of the past two years; while they do. It makes me uncomfortable, I apologize for everything; I feel like I’m in the way most of the time. I’m no longer the guy who can help anyone, I am the one who is dependent on them.
It’s not the easiest place to sit, to have the roles reversed, to feel like I offer nothing to the people I love. To feel useless, broken, and unable. While they assure me that I am none of those things, it doesn’t change how I feel, even if it is not valid in others eyes.
It’s a mess in my head these days. Trying to sort out life. Managing appointments, figuring out the past, planning for the future; all while trying to be present in the present. Luckily; there are those who have the patience to deal with the insanity that is my life. I might be more normal than I think I am; but then again who wants to be normal? That’s boring.
What used to be a strong, confident person; is most days a quiet, meek individual. One who is unsure about his place in the world. Where he fits, what the future holds, how to move forward. The questions never ending, the possibilities seemingly limited; and the future not quite as bright as to require sunglasses (from this perspective) most days. So for now a man and his dog are safely tucked away in a hotel, blocks from Seattle Center; with their framly that more than accommodates their apprehensions; and reassures, reminds, and doesn’t ridicule. While I struggle with accepting my new normal, and learn how to adapt to this whole new world, trying not to let the boat drift aimlessly, and take the risk of letting go as I swing to the next monkey bar weightless for a split second; floating momentarily, hoping that my hands grasps the bar on the distant horizon, and I don’t crash into the ground beneath. Praying that unlike Major Tom, that when I step through that door, my capsule goes the right direction, and the circuits don’t die, as we float high above the moon.
