This Is Nothing

Insane Graduate School Edition

Thursday, June 06, 2002

Big Heapin' Talk about the HereAfter

You know, it's a funny thing. In the beginning, it's easiest to villanize your enemy. Yeah, make them into some evil, venom-dripping monster of an arch nemesis. Give them superhuman intelligence geared only towards ruining your life and taking away everything you hold dear. Fangs are a bit over the top, yes.

In the beginning, it's easiest. Frankly, I recommend it. I once read that nothing unites a group of individuals like a common enemy, and I'm thinking the same principle applies to all the bits and pieces that make up your own dear self. When the pain is too complex to handle over one drink or one long talk. . .well, what could be better than to blame it on someone else?

But then the inevitable happens. You get better, and that haze of pain kinda dies away, and you realize you're enemy is A)human, B)not to blame for all your woes, really, or C) A and B. And then everything goes from complicated to disheartening. Somehow, I think I have found that humans are scarier than monsters, because they're everywhere, and I am one. And, friends and neighbors, when you realize you aren't that different from your chosen enemy, where do you go from there?

Ah, therein lies the rub.

But I've done this whole scenario before. Heartbreak? Geesh, I did go through highschool. What happened to me this year? I did it to a guy in highschool. What a sick fact THAT was to realize. It was the same, right down to the messy repeated break-ups. And why do I get so pissed about indecision? Well, while reading the first book in the Elric Trilogy, I came across a little statement: "How the weak hate weakness." And I think that applies here. But I'm getting sidetracked. Ancedote time!

In highschool, I fell head-over-heels in love with a guy. Geesh, fell in love with him in kindgarten, and finally got the chance to actually date him my Senior year. I was psyched, to say the least. And then, highschool-tragedy struck: One day I was snuggling with him on a field trip, and the next, his graduated ex-girlfriend came to school. Soon after, he had to make a decision between the two of us, and I knew I was done for. But still, it hurt. Man, it hurt a hell of a lot. Heh, I could wail and moan about this crap all day. Why doesn't it hurt today like it did when I came off the speech team bus weeping like a silly loser who just got dumped? Because in the end he dumped her and dated me. Score one for Amber. And that's when I can rest assured that I am just as evil as anyone else.

Because it always has been about the ego. It's been about being better and winning. I keep having this recurring dream, about people who never showed any interested in the theatre showing up at my rehearsal or audition. And today I figured it out. It's about intrusion. It's about a stage I always thought was mine, and the frustration that comes with realizing it isn't. For the most part, I've been generally happy when I felt that someone, typically a guy, thought I was the prettiest and most wonderful thing ever. Sure, I knew and still know that I'm not. There's always someone bigger, better, and smarter out there. But as long as there was one person who wasn't associated with my parents that would choose me over anyone else out there. . . I was pretty darn fulfilled. No, it's not smart.

The problem is, the way things are now, I can't seem to convince myself that I won. And I'm guessing it's because I'm not supposed to reach that conclusion, because what a doozy of a lesson that is! I guess this is growing up. Learning that you can't delude yourself forever, on top of learning what a gaping chink you've got in your armor. Oh my! It sucks. I am often ashamed. I am even more often resentful. Oh dear, I could go on and on about how much I laid out on the table, and how for a month or two all I got was a couple pennies for my thoughts. But that's worthless talk. What is important is that I hurt less now than I did. All I can do is shrug and keep going. And just pray it gets better from here on out. Lessons learned and all that jazz.

In the end, blaming someone else for all your problems, imagining all sorts of awful things were happening to them. . .well, it's good in the short term. Frankly, I think it's a human necessity. Yeah, I've had lots of time to get aquainted with the some rather ugly parts of myself, parts of me that could help take all the pain and direct it at something else. But the time comes when you've got to rip off that bandaid; when you've got to unmask your monster. I learned this long before 2002. Mainly, what I wanted to convey was the third step in the dance. You realize the worst enemy is really yourself. And from there. . .well, there's alot you can do.
----------------------
Epilogue: a nice snippet from Mr. King's short story "1408" :

Nevertheless, he picked the menu up. It was in French, and although it had been years since he had taken the language, one of the breakfast items appeared to be birds roasted in shit. That at least sounds like something the French might eat, he thought, and uttered a wild distracted laugh.
He closed his eyes and opened them.
The menu was in Russian.
He closed his eyes and opened them.
The menu was in Italian
Closed his eyes, opened them.
There was no menu. There was a picture of a screaming little wood-cut boy looking back over his shoulder at the woodcut wolf which had swallowed his left leg up to the knee. The wolf's ears were laid back and looked like a terrier with his favorite toy.
I don't see that, Mike thought, and of course he didn't.