/Hurry Down Doomsday
Doomsday Parade

Hurry Down Doomsday

All the lonely people

I’ve been laying low since the blizzard. It is totally against my recovery protocol to isolate myself like this, but this is a unique situation. Not that a weather event in New England is all that unusual, but I have been fortunate enough that nothing has severely impacted my recovery so far. The fundamental problem is that I have been largely confined to this house for – tomorrow makes it four days. Except for two visits to the recovery center (thank the Lord for that place) I have to hide inside the house.

Wake up Zombie write yourself another book
You want to scream and shout my little flaxen lout
Hurry down Doomsday the bugs are taking over

The inactivity makes it difficult for me to focus, to be grounded, or centered. I was watching a show on Netflix called Travelers and the team is trying to meditate during a stressful time and it reminded me that I have not done the same in quite a while. Tomorrow, I am going to the library to be out of the house and it is likely that I will be able to find some peace and quiet there. In the meantime, I have Travelers, the new season of Planet Earth and math homework to keep me busy.

The consequence of this restlessness from being confined is that too many thoughts and ideas are competing for attention inside my head. 

  • There is school; my school now, another school I want to go to, the ones I have and haven’t applied to
  • There are the new faces and scenery and imagined world of things that haven’t happened yet
  • There is always math and my feelings of insecurity and cognitive distortion about my abilities as mathematician, physicist, teacher, human being…brother, uncle, son…
  • Computer science, scholarships and grants from billionaires
  • Recovery protocols, house managers and rent to pay
  • Where is the time for me?
  • Will there ever be time for more? For friendship, relationships, for love?

Doomsday dogma art

I still feel like I’m trapped in here, some animal just banging its head against the bars of the cage without any real hope. I just have to repeat to myself that this will not, cannot, last forever. Even winter ends sometime. Until then, until Spring, I wait here patiently. Uncertain of my deception. Can they tell it’s a mask? I try to never let them see me without it. It is true, I am an imposter here, better still – an Interloper. I don’t belong here, they know it. I am not any better than any of them, but this can’t be my fate. I will pray for that.

All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
All the lonely people
Where do they all belong?

Misfit College Fund 2018

$56 of $1,975 raised
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