Life as Laughter, OLD STUFF


All my life I’ve felt like a fish out of water, living in constant struggle gasping for air. Snared, eternally caught in the perpetual ebb and flow of the crisis and failure that had been the only glue holding together the vague sense of the word normal, as I ever knew it to be.

I spent my high school and what would have been my college years watching, as if I were a spectator to “real life”. The life that always seemed to slip through my fingers at the very moment when I would have once again convinced myself that it was safe to breathe.

I had always been on the outside looking in. Looking in on, a permanent observer of friends and family who always seemed to find their “god given” talents, develop them to perfection and eventually lead them onto big and better things. Unfairly I judged them as they appeared to swim in a perfect synchronized shoal. They  swam effortlessly, the current of life always moving them forward towards every goal society implies we should.

Their success and happiness written neatly into their destiny. I believed this serenity was afforded to them from the accomplishment I perceived about their lives. It is that vision that looms ominously above me as I fear I may never swim with such confidence and determination.

As the years went by I found myself frequently lying awake each night, abandoned now too by the sweet release of slumber. I coerced myself into trying to envision a career, any career. I set no limitations, as these hours were certainly not the time to induce practicality or reason into my vocabulary.

So I paid no attention to details such as education, money even or ability and yet I never seem to be able to see myself ever doing any of it.  Stuck in those lonely dark hours in which time never seemed to move, rather end and begin.

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