I love control. Everything about it is something I enjoy and it’s become a cornerstone in my life. As a writer, especially spewing information about my life, to keep things interesting it is often necessary to push people with comments they may not realize as manipulation or place yourself in situations you know will be uncomfortable to come out the other side with a great story.
However, I am finally in one situation for which I lack all control. This situation is controlling me, adding to the level of frustration and unpleasantness that I feel. But the feelings, they’re the worst of it all. Again, something I would usually shove down into the pit of my stomach and back corner of my mind where they are forgotten, these feelings are suddenly forcing themselves out at unexpected moments. Generally when alone, or when I’m in public situations without friends. A stranger’s comment or random song in the background flood my mind with memories and out through the eyes come unwanted emotions. Strangers look at me knowing there’s something wrong, having no idea what and not daring to ask. The one stranger that has engaged me was verbally assaulted by a bitter tongue on the train, likely ensuring he’ll never approach a stranger again.
Today is particularly low for me as St. Patrick’s Day was one holiday my mother usually came to New York to celebrate. We bar hopped, laughed at drunk strangers wobbling about and had a fantastic time. I’m told to take comfort in the memories. But that’s not how my mind works, and it will never work in that fashion. My mind tells me I want a dozen more St. Patrick’s Day stories to share. And it’s internally deafening to know that none can be had and I’m at the mercy of a situation for which there is no solution and no way to fix. There is nothing to do but sit here and feel this way until eventually there is enough time between the moment and myself that it feels like something that never happened or my mind learns to forget the feelings.
Which of those will come first I have no idea, either would be ideal, today I was able to force myself out of bed around noon, in time to accomplish a small amount of work. Suddenly it seems that all the routines are meaningless tasks of no importance. A side effect of my bitter-shock state. And though everyone is doing their best to be a kind ear and helpful hand it is my head that’s the problem and unfortunately there is no escape.