Tabula Rasa

The body is predictable; in times of long pain and stress the arteries clog and harden. Sleep becomes disturbed, the muscles feel heavy and the body becomes lethargic. Concentration becomes difficult to maintain and generally everything goes to hell in a hand basket.

It has been long argued that human beings are blank slates. That we are programmed by our surroundings as opposed to an innate sense of identity. The complexity of the situation is both are true. But I think it would be meaningless to try and live if humans did not have control over their own destiny.

For much of my life I was able to dispel the notion of pain or tiredness; my will sufficed in overcoming any challenge I was faced with. It became easier to pass responsibility for my destiny off to fate, circumstances or individuals. Facing the greatest challenge of my life I did not rise to the occasion as some have... but instead I gave up everything I believed in and let my life collapse on itself.

The emotional pain has long been secondary to the physical. Even mild sunlight causes me unbearable agony... sometimes. I find my body so tired I cannot move... but only sometimes. The patterns change with seeming randomness... at times I am perfectly normal... and days like today the pain is almost unbearable.

I keenly feel the sense of loss... that I once had the will to overcome anything and I piddled it away for someone who did not deserve it. My only consolation is it did expose the weakness... a fatal flaw that I could not overcome. both time and effort have not dispelled it... nor do I expect them to ever. It is woven into the earliest part of my life history that I would feel this emptiness in my heart... that I need someone to love me.

It is a twisted irony that of all the people I have loved... each and every one of them had trouble loving me in return. The more I would open and invite... the farther away they would go. Perhaps I sensed in them the same emptiness that yearned to be filled... or maybe I read every intention wrong; I may never understand for sure.

Somehow I have held onto the hope that I will find someone who understands me or at very least is willing to put everything on the table and try. It is because love is a great healer... it mends wounds so deep that it seems almost miraculous. Not merely my wounds... but the wounds of those I care about... A long time ago I had the heart to love and heal many people...

These words are spoken by not merely a broken heart, but a soul fractured with pain. The man inside who feels robbed of his destiny is screaming for release; Screaming to be free of the prison he has fallen into. I sway between the strong and kind man I once was... and the tormented victim I have become... neither holds sway because my will has not been sufficient.

I repeat my words over and over; a meaningless cycle of rising up and falling back down when my will falters or the actions of another tear open a psychological wound.

It is funny... with my level of tactical skill and psychological knowledge I have the most trouble acknowledging that the two are separate problems: A partially healed tear in my psyche and debilitating migraines. One is within my control... the other isn't... yet. That I am incomplete as a person weakens me to the migraines... and erodes my ability to function with them; I am certain of that.

I know intellectually that the two are different; yet my mind feels compelled when I am under the effects of a migraine to tear open the still-healing wounds in in heart and psyche. I cannot forget the feelings of being betrayed... the white hot hatred and jealousy burning inside me.... the crushing despair of being abandoned at the moment I was most vulnerable.

Like I said before, this is a slow death for the body. If I do not overcome it eventually it will kill me. But the man I was screams to be released... however the kind person I was will be completely destroyed by the cruel circumstances in my current life. The life I have now is tepid, mediocre and safe... the life that I yearn to return to will pit me against untold challenges... something that is daunting for a man who can barely sit upright during a migraine attack.

We are born mostly blank... our souls unblemished by pain, sorrow and regret; some of that is expected and the resistance helps build us up. But when we choose to live in fear of our own potential, in fear of our own emotions then the accumulations threaten to destroy us... and we rightly deserve it.