Fear and loathing in New York
I lead a very comfortable existence by any yardstick. If we take the basest measure of not worrying about where and how the next meal is going to come, I am pretty high up on the richter scale. I order gourmet brunch as a takeout with nary a glance. My only predicament being should I go down the flight of steps to receive my food from the delivery boy or let him do the hard ask of climbing up the steps. I impulse bid on luxury clothing on eBay and then curse myself if I win. I used to go on really expensive first dates before I got my head out of the sand. My dad says I should worry about my future but I can’t seem to think past the next week. Which isn’t to say I am a wild child buying a million dollar Wu-Tang Clan album to show my worth. Or those unabashedly expensive bottles of champagne in the hopes of luring an eastern european beauty with golden tresses, high heels and a burning heart. On the contrary, I am quaint by every account possible. I don’t go out anymore, neither with friends nor pretty strangers. The collection of dating apps on my phone has whittled away to leave empty real estate now filled by Fika and ZocDoc. Once in a blue moon, if I get an odd message from an admirer on OkCupid I write such a debilitating and occult response so as to make sure that the initial admiration turns into distancing at a canter. I don’t quite know why I do it or what has brought about this change. I spend my friday nights painting alone. I spend Saturday mornings running alone. I spend my entire weekend alone, in a coffee shop, in a class, on a rowing machine, in a theater. And I love it. And I fear that something will change to take it all away from me.
I am fearful. I have anxieties. I cannot quite ascertain as to when they started. Probably after my cancer or when I moved to this city. Nor am I going to divulge as to exactly what I am fearful of. But my demons are real and they are always too close for comfort. Always whispering in the ear. Squeezing into every filigreed crevice of my brain. I ward them off by working a lot and then some. Keeping the mind busy and body tired seems to do the trick. But sooner or later the clouds begin to darken and the anxiety seeps back in, dampening my soul. I fixate on an issue and let it ferment in my head until it begins to grate. I analyze, hypothesize, dissect, reason, paraphrase, question the situation until the minutes pass by and I am in a vice like grip. I bide my time to wait for the bout to subside but then let something else through the door to pore over in the days to come. I am not quite certain the last time I was truly happy. In the meantime I have lost contact with the few that were close to me. To be fair, I am not sad or depressed. I am in a constant state of flux and for better or worse I have come to think of it as a good thing. That being emotionally neutral, while certainly worse than being happy, is a far better proposition than being sad. And I have begun to enjoy my own solitude for then the demons are mine alone and I don’t have to explain to anyone why I think the way I do.
I am hoping that I can break this cycle soon enough. I go through a gamut of emotions a second. People can categorize theirs at any given time. Tense when angry, tired when depressed, animated when cheery. I can never place a finger on mine. My mind is a parched earth waiting for the first drops of rain to singe the surface. If anything, I have learned to appreciate all I have rather than grimace about all that I don’t. The realization being that as long as I have functioning limbs and all my mental faculties in place, life is never too bad. I am grateful rather than complainant, relaxed rather than nervy. While there will always be milestones to reach and disappointments to swallow, there will still be little joys to be had in everyday routine. These are the raindrops that when meticulously harvested can lead to a tumult to wash away all my despair. So I will continue to hold my hand out to the drops for now and when the clouds do sing and the rains do come, I’ll let it ensconce me in its cool embrace and cry away the night awaiting a warmer sunshine.