On Dreading the Future

Simply put, I’m learning not to. Living a life focused entirely dwelling on the regrets and failures of an already receding past while living in fear and dread of an un-yet-realized future subject to changes in self and the whimsies of fate is no life at all. Escaping it to exist in a meaningless present doesn’t help either.

I’m learning at this late age — I think most people figure this out a lot earlier, but I got distracted along the way — to look forward to the future, to the unknown. It may just hold good things. It might be better than the last years, it might. just. be. good. This is a revelation of sorts. I know and hope most of you don’t understand, but once you get used to the concept that things can only get worse and spend years and years in that suffocating space, it’s hard to shake it. The very idea that tomorrow can be better than today *for me personally* is shockingly new. But there it is. Chalk it up to finding help in the channels where I needed it, finding new friends in unexpected places, finding spirituality when I didn’t think it existed, or just growing longer in the tooth. I don’t know and I don’t really care. I had a dream not so long ago, maybe two months past, in which I died (contrary to popular belief, dreaming you die does not equal the actual event. Hi!) from suicide. Without going into too many details — as it was a quite vivid dream, the details of which I remember quite clearly — I died, and found myself in an afterlife. I don’t necessarily believe in an afterlife, but this resonated with me. I died as a suicide, and wasn’t ushered into heaven or into hell, but into a locked bare room. A room maybe 3m by 3m, white walls, white floor, locked door, where I’d spend the rest of time, alone, isolated, and beyond redemption. Bleak, huh? Anyway, the point of mentioning that is to say that I feel like the hinges are off of that locked door, that maybe something be — no check that. That there *IS* something better beyond those four walls.

I know who I am — a neurotic, gay, left-wing, reader, Gooner, media-obsessed insomniac. I know what I want to do in this life — save lives, care for patients, care for people, write books that resonate with readers, a good husband eventually, a good father eventually, a friend people turn to for any and every occasion, a doctor who does everything in his power to care for a patient and that patient’s family who will stow a sleeping bag in his locker if that’s what it takes, a better son, a better brother, a Gooner until I die, a cat lady until I die, a runner, a fighter for equality, a good cook, a Midwestern boy.

And you know what? Give me work that involves caring for people, give me mint tea with honey, a good book (in paper) and a sweet boy to cuddle with and I’m happy.

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~ by Benji on 19 January 2013.

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