Friday, August 31, 2007

Straddling Two Worlds

There are times when I feel so separate from this place, these people, the world I see all around me. I feel like a floating soul. Not really of this world or in it. I feel different, somehow separated for reasons I can't quite think of. I feel like people look at me while I'm walking down the street or just sitting somewhere out of the way. What are they looking at? What do they see? Or is this staring just in my head? I feel like people look at me but at the same time I feel like no one sees me. I'm not memorable, nothing special, easy to overlook.

I want to leave a mark, but not leave behind damage. My baggage grows as I go through life and I don't want it to crush anything as I venture forward. If I am not really a part of this world, can I really leave a mark? It would probably be easier to go through life unseen by others, trying to be sure not to do anything to rock the boat. But in the end, easy doesn't really matter much if your life has no meaning.

It's the end of the summer, the end of vacation (well, almost) and I have these new adventures before me waiting so close to be started. And with all these changes I can't help but look behind me at what I've been through (non-medically speaking here) and think ahead to what kind of future I want to create for myself. I'm trying so hard not to really plan far in advance because things can change at the drop of a hat and expectations can unintentionally lead to closed doors. I don't want to close doors before I've even opened them. I don't want to be so fixated on a point somewhere in the future, a point I just want to get to, and miss out on things that cross my path.

I keep thinking ahead to what I'll do...then, after this or that is done. I'm thinking about next summer without really thinking about the whole school year between now and then. I'm trying to decide now where I want to live next year without knowing what may change, or how I may change, in the upcoming year. I feel like life is flying at me all of a sudden filled with opportunities and after living such a long time with so few options and choices, I want to have a chance to taste it all. I want to live where my heart is pulling me and I don't want to waste time between now and then. All these options, all these doors, and I end up either getting stuck on heading towards just one so fast that I lose sight of everything else or I stand there thinking about all the options so long that I never head towards any of them. And I don't know which way is better - gut-reaction or careful consideration. Both have their pros and cons, but if I spend time considering which way of deciding is better, I'll see even more time pass me by.

I guess the thing (or one of them anyway) is that I've spent such a long time on the sidelines of life and suddenly I'm entering the world, staring around at everything and not sure how to really join the "real" world but at the same time wanting to be a part of it all at once. But I still feel so much like a spectator, just an onlooker rather than an active participant in the world. When I imagine my life in any of the places I can see myself living, I see myself as a kind of ghost, a shadow, an onlooker just observing everyone else going about living their lives. And part of me is happy doing that. But part of me yearns and aches to be a part of it, but I don't know how. How do you suddenly know how to live a kind of life you've never been able to live before? How can I expect to take that leap and instinctively know what to do without tripping or faltering at times?

And part of it has to do with these different worlds I inhabit - "medical" and "real", not that the "medical" world is any less real than the "real" world, but it's more...surreal and just...different. These worlds are so different and I have been living mostly in the "medical" world for the past 10 years and especially in the past 3 or so years. Now I feel like I'm trying to straddle the two worlds, attempting to take some steps into the "real" world but not quite knowing how well I can balance with one foot still in the "medical" world (and sometimes more than just a foot). And how do I explain my past 10 years of existence mainly in the "medical" world to people in the "real" world? They can hear what I say, maybe sympathize with all I've been through, perhaps give me (unwanted) pity, but in the end they have no idea how it feels to look back at 10 years of life and feel like they were a blur and that they were years where, for me, the world stood still and I just watched as everyone around me kept living their lives and i was mostly just concerned with living, making it from day to day.

It's strange thinking about it all like this, imagining myself with one foot in the "medical" box and one foot in the "real world" box and trying to move forward like that. I do believe I can do it, that I can find the balance somewhere in there and manage to not go tumbling down to the ground, tripping over the two boxes, and end up with both feet back in the "medical" world. But it takes so much more effort and planning to try to achieve that balance. Strict bedtimes, strict schedules of infusions and medications (which are hard to sneak in while at work - pills, not infusions), trying to settle into a new home and have the energy to unpack and decorate without taking away from the energy needed for the more essential things, trying hard to eat as well as possible. It's exhausting just thinking of all the planning that has to go into trying to live this "normal" life and in the end, all the planning in the world can't stop a crash from coming. I feel in some ways like I'm the square peg trying to fit into the round hole. I'm this person who has all this medical baggage trying to squeeze through the door into that "real" world and it seems like some of my medical baggage is keeping me stuck in the doorway, unable to fully enter that "real" world.

Just some rambling thoughts on my "new" life. Maybe there's something in them, maybe there isn't. But that's the great thing about writing - even if you write and write and write and nothing good comes out, you can still keep writing and writing until you get to where you need to get.

Yours,
Penguini

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