I am not special. The situation is not negative or positive.
I just made a decision to give it a name.
This has not changed from yesterday, last week or even last year. I’ve been here since my death and second chance at life, December 4th, 1993.
I can no longer pretend that I am normal, or even that I am different – I’ve never been able to pretend that I’m just living someone else’s life. My only mistake has been that I have waited for my life to begin.
I belong in-between worlds where most statistics will never reach, or accurately gage my situation. There are formulas administered, test’s which are specifically designed to dehumanize the core of your self-worth, and I have taken them all.
That is me, that is who I am and that is really where my story begins.
What does it mean to be capable?
This is a transitory world of infinite suffering with brief moments of elated gratitude… sometimes the gratitude is just monotone.
There is nothing unique about the realization of who you really are. You don’t deserve anything and really, no one has asked you to contribute anything, even if they have.
All you are required to do is look yourself in the mirror and accept who you are, without justifying your own existence or reaffirming who you are to yourself… and that is who I am.
Excruciatingly, look at your reflection and realize the magnitude of your discomfort. That is where the truth resides, and where eventually hope can be found.
You don’t know me. I don’t know you. This is the true test of a person’s character, where we are asked to comprehend both sides of the coin that’s being tossed. We’re presented with the choice: to accept life as it’s being presented to us, or to pre-define our surroundings with our innate, repetitive fear.
Your reality is not the greater reality. Your reality is only comprised of the choices you’ve made in your own life. Uneven, broken and imperfect.
No one has led me to this point. No one left me out in the cold. No one stopped caring about me.
I just quit believing my own justifications.
I knew the judgements about my life were correct and most importantly, for what was being asked of me, I knew I was not good enough. That is a hard truth to digest.
The question being presented is the same question that’s always asked: ‘do you want it to end, or will you want to adapt, once again?’
Will I change, so that I can become a useful human being?
If I am really honest, I know I can’t answer that right now.
All I can be aware of is that there is no choice but to surrender completely.