The Crazy Card

Confession number one: I haven’t written anything since we last spoke except school papers. School puts such a damper on my creative expression. I have, however, committed to Nanowrimo in November, so expect at least 50,000 more words by Thanksgiving – published (I know! exciting for you. terrifying for me). I don’t think it’ll be finished though, for a couple of reasons: One being that the best part of my life has not “gone by” yet and I’m 100% dedicated to making that statement true, and the other (obvious if you know me) being that I’m terrible at endings – no, really, any time I try to end a piece it’s because I’m at my page limit and the last paragraph nine times out of ten begins “in conclusion.”

But endings may need to be something I learn to conquer sooner rather than later, as I recently found a lump in my breast. (Again, if you know me, you know it’s not the first time I’ve had a scare with the C word.) It’s hard not to have a scare with cancer these days though, as I can’t even drink water, the healthiest thing on the planet, without being reminded that carcinogens are everywhere. At work, the guys joke about it, saying if they get sick they’ll blame the Army and make a fortune off of it for the rest of their lives. The question, for me, is how long will that be? I like my life. I have plans. Blame the Army? Where does that blame get you? But that’s just it, as humans, we have to blame everything on something – often times, for those of us who have graduated from blaming the world, we blame ourselves – which brings me to my title.

[Part of this post has been removed to preserve my sanity – 11 Jan 2011]

Why, though, do we have to go to extremes like this for the sake of who’s to blame for things going wrong? When did life become a game of pointing fingers and manipulating fingers to look like they’re pointing in a direction that they’re not? Why isn’t it just a fact? I probably have cancer. Instead I’m sitting here thinking, “If only I’d stopped using deodorant!” “If only I never drank out of a plastic bottle!” “If only I didn’t use bleach to clean the toilet!” Because cancer could not possibly be responsible for itself in any sense, it’s something I did, or someone sold me, or the environment that “the man” has put me in, or all those idiot smokers!

So call it what you will: acceptance, forgiveness, apathy… But this is me taking all those fingers pointing in all different directions (including at me) and curling them in to rest gently by my side. Goodbye to the anger. Goodbye to regret. Goodbye being too fat, too quiet, too emotional, too “crazy”. Hello best part of life: living.

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. t
    Oct 27, 2010 @ 14:50:11

    ret in sek


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