I saw a documentary once, British, that followed several young people over the course of their lives, I believe all from some pretentious school. There was this one guy, ended up living on disability in a camper down by a river and writing and directing the occasional play for an acting group of socially excluded people.
Anyway, I remember he was saying he was working construction when one day on the way home from work in the city he realized amongst all the hustle bustle and beeping that he truly believed the world was mad. I also remember him saying, sitting in his camper, that though alone he wouldn’t mind the company of another but not knowing who he was day to day made this difficult (I can attest to that)
Anyway, I thought of this man today from this film I probably watched at 17 during my indie film binges, as I havfe at other points of my life.
Like him, I also believe the world is insane, have never been able to make my way in it, been thoroughly misunderstood and though knowing a great deal of things I don’t really need to know, I never managed to make sense of much of it, it being life I guess.
I walked into a store the other night to buy cat litter and a tube of tooth paste and had such horrible feelings that the next day I’d found an online outlet for basic dry goods and home products. Last night I couldn’t sleep, read 3 chapters of a cheap local novel, a murder mystery given to my father on his birthday which I suspect he never read. Today I just about had it, if I could I’d either free myself from the chains all bound around me (a day not seemingly soon to come) or withdraw from world around me, avoid public places, and only go out when absolutely unavoidable.
Unfortunately, and of course this coincides, the last six months or more the mental fog, depersonalized feelings and lack of/loss of sense of identity have lifted leaving me feeling rather clear, stable and well…myself. I feel this would have been my recovery from the hell I’ve been through over half my life. And to top all this irony off at a time I feel I’d rather survive on noodle dishes than brave the world outside I feel the need for the company of others as much or more than I have ever over the course of my life.
From where I stand and where I stand I did not choose, the world around me now looks more absurd, cruel, irrational and insane than it ever has, and the world scared me at the outset, though I tried and for a good while managed to do my own thing and this more or less worked or was at least interesting. But that was a long time ago. But it did, real life scared me, intimidated and overwhelmed me.
I’d leave it behind, but due to my still fighting will to live I can’t and don’t know how otherwise to. So at 33 I feel I am probably becoming a shut-in. I’m not saying I’m never again leaving my place, I’m just saying I’m down with public places and establishments. I can’t do it anymore. I’ll find ways to adjust…somehow.