Monday, June 16, 2014

One for mid-life crisised

Referencing from these posts onwards: The confessions of an introvert | My coming out | The dilemma of managing a house | The perils (and lessons) from living in a competitive home environment

So, once you're done with all those posts, you would understand where I stand. A mid-life crisis is no mean enemy to anything good, positive and happy. It kills the spirit. It gives 'bleh!' a completely new definition - especially when you get up every morning with the feeling. What's worse is that it has a late realisation syndrome. You get to know of it when it weighs down on you like lead with has a super-high magnetic strip on the side (it never leaves, even if you want it to, with all your might).

It's an impossible situation. You're up against a wall that's built to block you. Life is lived with that wall always touching your nose, while you wait for some grace to come through. You're always waiting for a breakthrough. It's like going to a store everyday repeatedly hoping that it will be open and it never is, except for those few times that it is. It's only your good fortune (or misfortune) that you do find it open (and your world changes completely like as if you got the "open sesame" right that once), which is a really, really rare occurrence that your happiness depends on.  

Here's a word to those whose lives concur with a mid-life crisis, especially of this kind.

Bandwidth close to 0: Your world just shrunk, as much in a second as much as it was the open, free field that caused you your happiness. Your resources are scarce. When you don't realise it so much, you're like, "What the heck is this weird mood?". When you do, you're weary as hell of spending even a speck from it. You only consciously do that if you know there's a reward that's due for certain - implicit or explicit. Some things give you joy anyway (the implicit ones) and some need adequate response to be worth your while (the explicit ones).

Babysteps everyday: Once the confrontational conflict is over, the residue it leaves behind is like coming out from your underground hiding place after a war. The whole, wonderful, curated-for-happiness world that was the organic, natural place for you to thrive. Just when you thought the war was over and all will be normal again, you're hit with the fact that you've been forcefully oriented away from that world, in a millisecond. You literally have to feel your way around till your disorientation hits you. And, when you do, the shot to the head's the shocker-bomb. You're like, "Woaaahhhh!", but in the worst context ever. You come to detest the feeling but it's already embedded in your life. It's already a full part of your memoirs.

You know the habit, but you've lost the fire within. The exercise holds absolutely no value anymore. Any, and every, single one of your habits that organically mattered (and which you consequently weren't evaluative about but more than completely aware of and which you understood as you needed too) don't have the slightest meaning which they used to. They're foreign to you, despite you knowing how to repeat the exercise perfectly. Your identity has been silently switched for another and the yet unchanged depths of your soul refuse to accept it. You soon start to be thankful for the resilience that it has. That resilience, only, sustains you and pushes you forward.

Don't you dare take away my happy place: In the midst of all the disorientation, you're left without the side holder that you always had, that you never realised (which, too, you suddenly realised is gone - all in the same moment). The feeling's like hanging on to a plane in flight and having no hope of getting to a safer, normal place. Considering all that's stripped away from you, the last thing you want is to lose those precious places of happiness.

The only way you can last that plan is if you last this crisis. And the only way you can last this crisis is if you maintain your sanity. The most important part of that sanity are these precious moments which are sacrosanct. They are called happy places for a reason. If you take yourself them away from them, you become a sad places and all remaining hope in life simply vanishes into thin air.

These are your simple victories - the ones you prefer to celebrate even if I didn't have to go through a mid-life crisis. Given your present predicament, you're keeping them - close. They may be the only reason you will escape unscathed. You're keeping them, however inconspicuous to any grand plan of life and progress they may be. You need your head straight and sane till you get out of his mess please, thank you very much. If this is what it takes to make that possibility real, you're clinging on to them. It'll have to do.

Yes, I get it. I'm slow: The one thing people don't get about you is that you're experiencing it, more than you can possibly express the feeling. They either get it or they don't. And if they don't, they won't. They have to go through the same grind first.  Apparently, the pain of being seemingly unremovably chained down can be dealt in a minute with by using positive living advice out of a self-help motivational video or book. Indeed it can. Perhaps those who offer it should try it themselves first, in your shoes if at all they can wear them. Unfortunately for them, your breakthroughs are truly gold and have almost nothing to do with the effort you put in to achieve them. They appear and disappear. You really are lucky to catch any break, if you have the bandwidth left in the first place, to pounce on any one you may catch popping up - to make the best of them. You wait to devour moments like these that hold any promise.

Where's my key? Sorry, you don't have it: What sucks, and really does, is that you don't have the key to your own life (despite all those self-motivational quotes). During the storm that landed you in a mid-life crisis, it was sucked by the winds and it's nowhere to be found. Now you're stuck, groping in the dark, for anything that seems likely to be it because you want to get back up so badly and you have no clue. You just hope your almost zero bandwith won't give out because, then, you'd have to wait on those amazing moments to be popping up all over again.

Life sucks, doesn't it?