…about…things. Like absolutes, and extremes, and gray areas. And stuff.

I have been told that I’m a 1 and 10 kind of girl, going from off to maximum with no stops in between. That could be true, but over the years I feel as though I’ve become a little more oriented to the side of “maybe”. Gray areas can be difficult, since they often paralyze me into inaction while contemplating all of the “what if” and “perhaps” facets of the situation. That makes me tired.

What I’m getting out of that lately is that perhaps I don’t trust myself enough to be sure about much of anything. I’m always trying to mitigate damage before I’ve even taken the shot or incurred any negative consequence. WTF? More life in the fantasy zone, I suppose…imagine, if you will, that that you’ve made a bad decision that has resulted in catastrophe. Wait, there’s no imaginary aspect to this – because it hasn’t even happened yet.

That may be somewhat nonsensical, but it’s my zone so I suppose I can be as nonsensical as I please. Nonsense may actually be a good thing for someone like me who is obsessed with making sense. Life doesn’t always make sense, and so why should I?

Why do bad things happen to good people? Why do bad things happen to bad people? Why do bad things happen? I suppose my current take on that is that justice exists on an infinitely larger scale than I am capable of comprehending. Who is to say unequivocally that justice does not exist?

My obsession with justice causes me some dark days, because I can only focus on the immediate circumstances, what I can see and feel and touch. In many ways, that’s all I can be expected to do because I’m a puny human with visual acuity in the range of a muppet and brain infarctions in the range of a minor deity. And yeah, I want fries with that.

When I look at the Karens on video, they aren’t questioning whether their viewpoint is correct or not, or whether there’s another way to look at things. They act, and behave badly in most cases, and don’t really look back even when there are negative consequences. I suppose I don’t know whether or not that’s a good thing or not. Do they get what they want? I am not sure. When you are motivated by that much rage, I suppose it’s not supposed to make sense.

Anger is a wonderful motivator, and rage amplifies that by exponential increments. I have been that angry, and I’m sure my head spun around 360-degrees and my eyes were neon green. It wasn’t pleasant for me, and I don’t recall ever having a second thought about my actions while in the moment. I suppose I can empathize with the Karens on that level because it’s about power. When you feel that you have no power, you’re going to act out in the extreme because anger makes you feel alive and not powerless. I get that.

Right this moment I am feeling rather powerless over many things, but I’m not looking for a fight. Maybe it’s an age thing because there were times in my younger (and more energetic) years when I was always looking for a fight. Just having an excuse to rage at some unsuspecting fellow human or break something or say, “No, I’m not going to do what you are asking and I don’t care what the consequences may be.”

At what point do I stop going along with the system, do I stop obeying rules that are not my own, or at least not for my own benefit? At what point do I make the conscious choice to not be a good girl? I guess I’ve made that point many, many times when I’ve felt beaten down by powers that I couldn’t even name. Desperation takes many forms, and when a person feels as though they are fighting for their life the situation can get ugly to say the least.

I don’t want to feel desperate these days, but I recognize the pre-requisites to feeling that way. Depression. Feeling as though it doesn’t matter what I do, right or wrong, because nothing will change. Feeling as though you have some target on your back that warns others to understand that I’m an imposter and don’t really know a damned thing about any damned thing.

Can I do anything about those feelings? Are they real? What is my responsibility to ascertain whether the feelings are merited, or whether I am truly inadequate?

I must be doing something right because I’m still here. I haven’t caused irreparable harm to anyone else, and I’ve managed to do a few good things along the way. Am I entitled to feel better than I do? I have no answer for that, but I also have no answer for why I feel the way I do.

Today it’s somewhat overcast, and rain is expected for the next couple of days. However, we are assured that Halloween will be a very nice day. The insistence that October 31st is a major holiday amuses me since half the people here don’t let their kids trick-or-treat on the 31st for religious reasons (which make no sense to me) and…there’s a pandemic. For some people in these parts the former is far more important than the latter, which is absurd in my book.

Somewhere on the planet, there is sunshine. In another part of the globe, there is darkness. I presume that one cannot exist without the other, but when I cannot wait for it to end. When my hair is curly I grieve that it’s not straight. When my belly is large I cannot understand why it’s not thin. We always want what we don’t have. Sometimes that is comical, but sometimes it’s tragic. Wanting food when you are starving makes people do extreme things, and often that doesn’t end well.

I don’t want to be desperate for money, or a job, or to be thinner or prettier. Desperation will cause me to do things that are ill-advised and may result in bigger problems than the original issue. That’s when things make less sense than ever before. Karma may be a real thing, although it’s not punitive, just a statement of cause and effect. A friend in recovery said frequently, “To build esteem, do esteemable acts.” Simple, but not easy.

It’s going to be OK, but as I keep saying I don’t know what OK looks like. Having expectation of what OK should look like sets me up for disappointment, and blocks things beyond my wildest dreams. That concept also makes my head hurt, but that could be just my sinuses or lack of sleep. I slept fairly well for close to six hours, but woke up a little tired so I ight do a radical thing and take a nap today. It can’t be that easy, though. Can it?

I am always looking for the spark.

Published by annzimmerman

I am Louisiana born and bred, now living in Winston Salem, North Carolina. Fortunately for me, I was already living in NC before Hurricane Katrina decimated my beloved New Orleans. An only child, I now feel that I have no personal history since the hurricane destroyed the relics and artifacts of my childhood. As I have always heard, c'est la vie. My Louisiana roots show in my love of good coffee, good food, and good music. My soggy native soil has also shown me that resilience is hard-wired in my consciousness; when the chips are down (or drowned)...bring it on.

One thought on “Wondering…

  1. Recently I’ve been thinking about what, among all we think is important in society, is really, well., real.
    Power, fame and money for instance, are so important in our everyday lives, yet, I doubt a bear, wolf or jaguar would be concerned if we were in the wild facing them. I know it sounds like a privileged thing to say and I’ve no doubt it is, but it’s also something which affects the way we see each other – giving us reasons to judge each other’s values.

    The reason your post made me think of this was the ‘Karens’. You see I’ve got to the point of thinking that maybe it’s not about getting things but about what that makes us inside. Often there’s very little justice, and I’m not sure that fact will ever be made completely obsolete, but I know that I also wouldn’t want to wake up some day and have lost myself or the spark that makes my world magic in some trade of for power.

    Liked by 2 people

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