problem: a certain apathy and dissatisfaction with life.
solution: a near-death experience.
yes that's right, boys and girls. i almost died. and by almost died i mean almost spun off the road, plowing BACKWARDS through a guard rail and careening into a gulch, the impact of which would have likely killed me, especially with the way i was sitting at the time--which would be one ankle over my knee.
instead, i spun out of control and managed to kill enough time to speed PAST the guard rail and so when i plowed backwards off the road, perpendicular to the road itself, i managed to slam into a hill, rather than the guard rail.
it was scary, to say the least. the ironic thing is that in the hour of stop-and-go traffic leading up to the spin out, i'd found myself reflecting on how lucky i was. i had friends who loved me, a boyfriend who genuinely cared about me, parents who both actually gave a damn despite the different ways they showed it... i had things going for me. i was smart, moderately motivated (even though few people actually gave an honest damn about the things i loved, ie my book and affiliated languages--but i had an rp going for me, and people cared about that, and a few people read my cooperative fanfic, and a few others cared about three crossings, and a few others at least pretended to find interest in my novels), i had a book ready for publishing, had a school career drawing rapidly to a close and a plan, albeit shaky and distant, for my future--to teach english in japan with mia while i wrote novels.
sitting in this hour of bumper-to-bumper traffic induced by a horrible wreck (an 18-wheeler had flipped over on a major highway), i found myself sympathizing with the people involved. i hoped they were okay. i thought about their families, wondered who would miss them if they'd died, who would have stayed up all night praying if they'd gotten hurt, who would have flipped out and held them all night if they'd made it through all right. who would appreciate their lives if they were still to be had...and who would speak at the funeral if they weren't. who would cry for them?
i found myself hoping no one had to cry. hoping that somehow everyone was okay. hoping that the worst that would happen would be panicked tears and fervent hugs (possibly kisses); that the worst the night had to offer would be some heavy drinking and shaky communication, some exhausted people suddenly very aware of just how fragile they were and just how easily they could have been snuffed out that night... their hopes, their dreams, their future, the careers, the friends, the goals, the passions and the hobbies, the families, the reconciliations they'd worked toward, and the reconciliations yet to be had.
and then the traffic cleared up and i found myself going a little faster than usual, eager to get to my mom's house so i could spend some time with her since i'd suddenly begun to appreciate everything i had so much...
...and then my car spun out of control.
and the next thing i knew--and by knew i mean actually bothered to cognitively consider, rather than panicked thoughts (i remember articulating "...shit. oh ssshit," quite distinctly and strangely calmly, like a statement of fact rather than an exclamation of fear)--i was...bewildered. i was on the side of the road, backwards with the engine stalled and my foot on the break, staring at the road itself and hanging somewhat limply forward from my seatbelt, and i was bewildered. like i was incredulous.
incredulity faded. and then i took my own pulse. keep in mind i have no idea how to take pulses. i pressed my first two fingers into the right side of my neck and felt the wild heartrate, and a rattling breath dove in and then back out of me.
well. that was interesting.
and the first thing i actually thought--as opposed to felt or did, because they were quite separate--was that i really hoped my car still worked. my first thought was one of considerate concern; i didn't want to inconvenience anyone by being unable to get myself anywhere. i was worried that someone would have to take the time out of their life to come get me off the side of the road.
i suppose i should have spent my time appreciating how lucky i'd just been. or thanking whatever gods are out there that they'd seen fit to let me get out of that all right. but no. instead i was worried someone would find my plight inconvenient.
at least i wasn't in the middle of the road. at least i wouldn't be the cause of an hour's worth of detour and traffic for other people. at least my car worked and no one would have to come get me. i could continue my autonomous trek to my own destinations.
but then i got to my mom's house. and i melted down.
hours later, the alcohol's wearing off, i've eaten enough food to be considered a meal, even if it consisted of crackers, cheese, summer sausage, and whatever carbohydrates are in beer. i've thoroughly immersed myself in the joys of family and satellite usuals who grace my mother's home.
...gods they're annoying. i think the only one who didn't either antagonize or annoy me was vence's girlfriend debbie. vence, reed, becca, leo, sean, even my mother with the way she pressed a glass of wine into my hand to settle my nerves and insisted that no matter what i wanted to do the best thing for me would be to spend the night on the couch--all of them bothered me to some degree. i wanted to slap becca across the face, a fact i spared no time informing her of.
and now, amidst all the people in my family...i am so incredibly lonely i could cry. this night of all nights should have been one spent with people who loved me, people i loved. mia, cakes...jesse, perhaps. such a small group. so tragically small. there are others, to be sure, those i don't speak with regularly enough, those far away or those growing distant, those i don't bother keeping up with simply because i'm too busy, those who don't bother with me unless they can't get through to other people...
...all in all, it's so small. so few people to whom i actually make a difference. so few people who would even notice my absence as anything more than an inconvenience on their drive home. and maybe i'd be lucky enough to have someone out there enduring through that inconvenience with the compassion to consider i had a life, a family and friends, people who would miss me...and perhaps they'd have the goodness of heart to hope i'd be all right.
is this karma? did i make it through okay because i sent that out into the universe, a sincere desire for those whose wreck had inconvenienced me among countless others to live through the night? or to even pass through their experience unscathed?
i could be a smear on the pavement right now. i could be a splat on a hummer's passenger side door, a spray across a guard rail and a stain on an old chevy malibu's upholstery. but i'm not, and it was through no grace of my own, no quick thinking and no skill. i am alive through sheer luck alone, and nothing is so humbling as owing your entire life to the winds of fate and the whims of probabilities.
alia iacta est. roll the dice and watch it spin; when it comes to land what number shows? the feeling is something like that, something along the lines of your very existence riding on the outcome of that roll, and you not even knowing what number needs to show for you to keep going. the dice just land and you're still alive, and you're left with the feeling that apparently the numbers were good enough.
gods forbid you have to roll again, though. it might not be good enough next time.
i'm lucky to be alive. but tomorrow i still have to go to work, and on tuesday i still have to go to school; i've won nothing through this gamble. no special privileges, no exemptions, no compassions or additional kindnesses--i even got yelled at for being who i am tonight.
i'm not sure what i was hoping for. all i've earned is the right to keep breathing, the right to keep toiling, the right to keep getting yelled at, being sick and having no insurance, going to work and pretending i care about people's meals, doing homework i feel serves no purpose. the right to be so busy i don't have the time to do what i truly love...
...and part of me wonders what the point was at all.
don't worry, though, those inclined to worry for me. the rest of me wonders what i've been wasting so much of my time for anyway.
expect changes. don't be surprised if nothing comes of it, but expect them nonetheless. i don't intend to let this go easily, though it might very well slip away like every other lesson i've ever learned. but i don't want to be a waste of my own space anymore.
if i'd gone tonight, i'd have left behind a vacuum of un-accomplishments and half-finished endeavors. and there's something more tragic in that than in all the admittedly few souls that would ache for me. in time they would heal.
but those endeavors would never shake themselves awake and coalesce without me.
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