I like it when my day is planned out to the minute. That’s an understatement! I need it? Yep, that’s better. Underline, caps lock, highlight it because I can’t tell you how much I NEED order.
I get up at the same time every day, and I don’t set an alarm. My eyes open with a predictability I find annoying and comforting. I eat the same thing at the same time: Cereal with a splash of milk. I round out my culinary genius with a handful of pills. Mm, yum!
Next, a 10-minute shower. Please don’t come for me! I know I should conserve water, but it’s so warm and the world is so cold. (I just sighed very dramatically.) Once I’ve contributed to the downfall of our species; I throw on something comfortable, try to look like a functional adult, and take my dog for a walk.
You could say my life is structured or rigid. I prefer: Organized to optimize what little control I have over my life and sanity. Yes, it’s a bit of a mouthful, but it works for me. One question: What if my schedule changes?
Is that a trick question? Are you trying to be funny? No, you’re serious. Right, well, I was going to give you a chuckle but whatever. Sorry, what was the question?
Change it? Why, why, why? I don’t…That’s just crazy talk! Change? No. No. No. Haha, you so funny! I can’t breathe. Is it getting hot in here?
Purposefully altering a meticulous plan? Really? Seriously? That’s banana pants! Why mess with something that’s sorta, kinda, almost working just fine?
No, it’s not perfect.
Yes, I wish I was more flexible.
It might even be fun to do something different just for the giggles. Maybe get out of bed at 8:15 instead of 8. Would that kill me? No, but that doesn’t leave much time for breakfast, a shower, and what about the dog! Did you think about the dog?
Okay, maybe I have a problem.
My rigidity, quirks, ticks were born out of desperation rather than madness. They help me catch my breath for one second. They are old wounds that are just starting to scar over. These idiosyncrasies make sense when everything else doesn’t.
A doctor butchered my insides when I was three years old. He left me with failing kidneys and a body covered in scars. I’ve been cut open with and without anesthetic. I’ve died multiple times. I can’t even tell you how many needles have pierced my skin, or how many tubes have been stuck in places.
None of it makes sense.
There’s no logic to any of it.
My whole life has always been out of my control. I couldn’t stop any of it from happening. I was just a kid. I was too small to fight. I didn’t understand why they were hurting me. I didn’t understand the bad things I was seeing. They were trying to save my life, but it hurt. I couldn’t make it stop.
Now that I’m an adult, I understand that these tests, procedures, and surgeries are necessary. I have a say in what happens. There’s a bit more control but I’m still choosing between living and dying. What kind of choice is that?
I have a desperate need for any semblance of order, and I crave stability. I schedule everything and when that get’s thrown off I’m flooded by horrible images. Memories come rushing back. My scars burn. I have to fight the rising panic.
We’ll all despair and die! Wow, dramatic much?
Yes, I have a problem but I’m trying to… Oh boy… Give me a second…No, I can say it. I’m trying to: Change. There it is! Got it out. Just gave myself a high five. You go, girl! I didn’t throw up that time.
Speaking of progress! I went on vacation awhile back. I haven’t been on one of those in years. I left behind my predictable, comfortable, life, and went out into the big, mean, terrifying world. My schedule wasn’t just disrupted; it was obliterated. You know what happened?
Not a damn thing. It was fine. You’re all right. I’m all right. The earth is still spinning. Birds are still flying. Hellfire didn’t rise up. Death and despair? Sure but the numbers didn’t go up dramatically so, you know, yay.
Oh, I had fun! I went away with a good friend, and we explored strange lands. All I’ll say is this: The black stump wiggled, and I handled it really well. That’s a lie. I panicked but at least we weren’t eaten by a bear. I mean, stump.
I was forced to bend and I didn’t break. A few waves of anxiety, a couple of panic attacks, but I handled it. Once I got out of my own way, I enjoyed myself. Who knew? I’m capable of enjoyment. Will wonders never cease!
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