Dear Diary,
What does it mean, for me, to fight? What is it I’m trying to do – and am I doing it?
I am someone who thinks about consequences intensely. I suffer consequences of my past on a minute to minute basis, and I am punished for everything I do – big or small – without fail: I have a guilty conscious, anxiety issues, and this ability to be treated poorly by the majority of the people with whom I interact. No matter how I slice it, punishment arrives and swiftly. I have learned the value of silence and inaction. I have learned the value of ‘choosing one’s battles’ and other similar lessons.
I am a person who rarely acts without meaning or purpose: the words I choose to say, things I choose to buy, the colors and movements in my art, and the emotions in my music. They all have a meaning behind them, I am not one to be a mindless individual simply drifting along – going through the motions. It troubles me to encounter so many who do, so many who are unwilling to think beyond the tip of their nose or the reach of their fingers.
I’ve been, for 10 years now, writing and doing art pieces about big picture concerns; about my loneliness and feelings of anger and betrayal at where this country went and is headed (by force of the minority but powerful). Along the way I’ve had multiple breakdowns, constant pain and decay, and I find myself staring out the window wondering what I’m doing.
Let me be clear: I am not becoming the apathetic person I’ve rallied against this whole time. I doubt I ever could even if I wanted to be, and at times I pretend I do in between heartbeats, but instead I wonder about what is realistic for me.
My art piece AS|550 Ready, is about me always focusing ‘out there’ instead of what’s ‘in here.’ As a soldier, I feel I should always be ‘out there’ fighting, no matter what that entails. I was raised to believe that perfection is the standard, and anything less is failure – and I truly struggle with letting that go. It’s hard for me to accept any human limitations, of which I have many. I constantly set myself up for failure and accomplish just that and my limited capacity for memory is almost entirely composed of failures.
This drives me harder to keep fighting, replace what little I have with successes. Reach the standard for once! I cannot recall the last time someone has just said “You’re right” instead of fighting me each step of the way. I cannot recall the last time someone was unconditionally appreciative, rather than their being some caveats or diminishing qualities. I cannot recall the last time someone called me and said ‘hey, you’re exceptional at (this), I’d like your help.’ For all my fighting, apparently I’m not very good at much of anything.
Absent a healthy support structure, absent a demand for any alleged talents I have, and living proof that ‘no good deed goes unpunished,’ I wonder if my focus is all wrong. Should I be more demanding/assertive, as I am not now? I have little to lose. Should I put the world down? How would I even do that? What would that look like? What would I replace that with? I can’t stop caring – everyday I see how things like the government and the church (to name regular offenders) hurt people in either: a) new and inventive ways, or b) the same old, obvious and known, ways – but still without consequence!
All it takes for evil to succeed is for good men to do nothing. Doing nothing will only make matters worse as we continue to erode and decay, as we continue to be more and more unhappy. However, I sit here barely able to walk from my own: limitations, stress, and complications, yet ponder what I can realistically do and when I can look in the mirror and say I’ve done my part – I’ve paid my taxes – and take some smaller role.
I was in the local library the other day, and thought it was so nice: quiet, cool, controlled. I’ve been spending more time in the kitchen too; Michael Pollan, of Cooked fame, said something to the effect of: ‘Is there any time less wasted than cooking?’ I tend to agree with him, and I loathe wasting time.
I may not be the fighter I once was, despite having a passion for it. I may be slowly coming to terms with what I can, and cannot, do, despite the tears that summons. I still have a lot of questions about my place in the world, or even if there is one – and I may yet end up a statistic, but I do find myself being more ok with retreating from the front lines and focusing on smaller things. I do find myself being ok with offering my help when I can, but being a quieter more reserved version of the former me – who was always trying to volunteer for everything.
Maybe now I will have the space and time to heal some, although I am not even sure what that actually means beyond actually enjoying things like music, games and such. Life is still too stressful to grasp peace.
One step at a time, right? The sun is out today, I should go say hi.