Chasing The Void

by good2begone


Nothing is impossible if you put your mind to it.

I have heard this many times. My response is always,

“Try nailing jello to a tree.”

I’m not a pessimist. I just know from my own experience that putting your mind “through” it and not just to it causes change that makes nothing being impossible to nothing at all.

Let me explain…

I was a user abuser of chemicals and alcohol for many years. Willfully participating in those things, in the quantities that I chose, for the timeframe that I did it in, changed my mental makeup.

I was a confident, outgoing, fun person who became a paranoid loner recluse.

It has been over 6 years since I ingested any chemical or alcohol. I am mentally stuck between 2 states of being.

I’m somewhere in between confident and unsure…..loving life and who cares…..full of trust and withering in doubt.

My wife calls me the “King Of Indifference”, I don’t know what to call it.

I’m not comfortable being around drinkers, but I am just as uncomfortable being around people that don’t drink.

I can’t fit in when I don’t know where I fit in….so I blend as best I can.

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Regretfully, I ain’t as good a blender as Mr. Lizard.

I get around people and I can’t wait to get away from them.

I sit alone and in silence and I just pace around unsure of myself.

It all come back to “30 days”.

In between sober and nowhere near sober I did some jail time for crimes I definitely committed.

Not an extended amount of time. Approximately, 4 months. The first month of which I was committed to the jail psyche ward.

I was so whacked out on chemicals that my mind flipped completely out.

I was apparently not safe to be around other inmates much less being around myself.

I think the term generally used is f**king crazy.

I wrote about it in a post called something like “Cold Silence

For 30 days I had no human interaction….unless you count the 22 hour screamer or the feces thrower in the other cells.

3 times a day a tray of what was called food was passed through a slot. After 10 minutes I was to pass the tray back out.

That was the closest I got to human contact.

30 days.

Of nothing but me.

And 3 concrete walls.

Nothing else.

The first 7-8 days, my mind was attempting to return to whatever state of normality it had left.

In that time, I talked to the visitors who would visit me. In mid conversation, they would disappear.

The rest of the time I sat in silence. Just me and my warped ever changing thoughts and realities of my decision making…and the screams and rants of the occupiers in the other cells.

It is impossible for me to revert my mind to a state of normality when the norm is impossible for it to define.

30 days that I wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

Much less upon myself.

My choices in life led me to where I ended up at that point.

Incarceration for me was never a question of “if” but “when”.

That part of my life is behind me.

Way behind me.

It is just hard for me to comprehend that out of the over 16,000 days I have been living, there are a mere 30 of them that won’t just go away.

Sometimes avoiding the crashes of the past creates a void to the future.

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