Drug of Choice

As the cognitive dissonance runs rampant in my brain, I am forced to acknowledge the crossroads I have brought myself to. I have always been a person pushed to extremes, either rigid, puritanical and practically hermetic, or completely impulsive and uninhibited, with no regard for consequences. I can never quite get a handle on the things I want from my life. I am horribly indecisive, even at trivial things, yet so sure of myself and my convictions, bordering on obstinate. I know I am too often times in my head, and not really experiencing the things that are actually going on right in front of me. Very few people are able to draw me into the moment, as I can't seem to do it myself. There are a few times in my life where I genuinely rebelled, against, at the time, oppressive forces, for a teenager, anyway. But now, it just seems silly to rebel at 27, against what exactly? All of my choices since that time have been solely my own, no one to scapegoat my guilt onto, like before. That leaves me in a bit of an existential crisis. Where am I am going, what am I am going to do, what is going to make me happy? Sometimes, I wonder if anything will ever make me happy for more than a brief period. Maybe life isn't supposed to have an everlasting happiness. Life is just an amalgamation of all the little tastes of happiness, just so one doesn't get too complacent. As Denis Leary says "the chocolate chip cookies" of life. At first glance, a giant, warm chocolate chip cookie looks so inviting and satisfying. The aroma is intoxicating and leads you right to it, you take the first bite, and can't believe how delicious it is, and maybe for a minute you are content. As you continue eating the cookie, each bite more filling than the last, your stomach begins to distend and all of the exhilaration of eating the cookie drains away. You start to feel nauseous towards the end and you really never want to see a cookie again. I feel like that is how I react to every situation in my life. But then again, I think complacency is much worse. With complacency comes resentment and eventually hate. Complacency creates such an environment that you can never really get out of it. It only compounds exponentially. When complacency hits me, I feel like I am suspended in some sort of viscose jelly, I have the ability to move, but it just takes so much effort that I don't even bother. I don't want to live like that anymore. But the alternative for me has always been running wild and never slowing down long enough to think about what I am doing. Is there any compromise for me? It hasn't been the case thus far.

Because I am so wired all the time, with my thoughts always racing a mile a minute, I tend to be anxious, which can sometimes be interpreted as excitement. It's the same processes and neurotransmitters that work for both emotions. To me the absence of anxiety/excitement is depression. I don't know what to do with myself, when my anxiety temporarily recedes. I've grown so accustomed to it, that it is more difficult for me to be without it. I can, for the most part, handle the anxiety and translate it into other activities, but without that energy, I really don't know what to do with myself. I guess that's why the middle of the road has never really been for me. I could never settle for mediocrity in any aspect of my life. That lends itself to my perfectionist attitude that permeates everything I attempt. Once you have experienced the highest highs, it's hard to go back to ordinary, even though what comes with it, inevitably, are the lowest lows. Every time, I always claim it is worth it, though. It seems kind of ridiculous, from the outside, to continually set yourself up for a fall, just to experience that apex for a second, but I still contend that it is worth it. The pain is immense down in the valley, but the summit is so overwhelmingly beautiful. It is a complex and taxing way to live, but every so often I summon up the courage to start climbing again. The alternative is no place for me, indifference is the most horrible emotion in the world. It is so useless, and depressing.

I have always been able to get high on my emotions, I never needed drugs or alcohol. In fact, the dozen or so times I have smoked weed, I never actually got high, and when I drink, my demeanor never really changes. Whatever drugs do to other people, is already permanently turned on in me. But my drug of choice has always and will always be love/lust. As of late, I have compartmentalized love and lust. They absolutely have grown to represent the 2 halves of my personality, my dual nature, the puritanical represented by love, and the uninhibited represented by lust. Needless to say, it only creates problems in my relationship with my husband. I find it very hard to reconcile the 2, so it leaves me without much sexual attraction to him, which kills me inside, and I know kills him. He is an amazing man, and friend, hands down, the best person I have ever met, I admire him more than anyone, and I never want to lose him as a part of my life. I don't want to hurt him, but I feel like he deserves better than me and my neurotic nonsense. He needs someone that can admire him and make love to him with their whole heart. And, honestly, I am not usually this selfish, but lately I have been thinking how I want someone that can connect the 2 halves of my subconscious. I so want it to be him, but I just don't know if it is, anymore. I need that white hot passion to survive, I am addicted. Maybe, once I had it, but as it leaned toward the love side, I pulled away, something I will never forgive myself for. I got scared and ran away, which just isn't how I want to be. Vulnerability is very hard to contend with. I often think of a Mark Twain quote about how when looking back you will regret the things you didn't do, much more than the things you did. I think that is the theme of my existential crisis.

I have been doing a lot of contemplating, and I have come to the realization that I need that electricity, that fire that comes from connecting with someone in that way. Everything else just pales in comparison, to that excited feeling that flutters in your stomach, the little tingle that runs down your back, that spark when they touch your hand. I need someone to reconcile my compartmentalized love and lust. If I can find that person, then maybe I can be happy, even for just a blink of an eye. Maybe monogamy isn't supposed to exist, just a fairy-tale notion perpetuated by millions of unhappy people that want you to join their ranks. Unmarried men are characterized as sleazy playboys with a Peter Pan complex, and unmarried women are cast as unlovable spinsters with nothing to offer the opposite sex. I don't know how long even the best relationships are supposed to last, it's hard to keep the fire going for so long. It's so much work that the fun drains away. Falling in love is the absolute pinnacle of existence, the best feeling ever felt, but falling out of love is so gut-wrenching, especially when there is no big falling out, just an almost imperceptible fading that could only be recognized so far after the fact, like an old photograph of yourself.

I know I want something more than this. After you have had a taste of how amazing it can be, it's hard to want anything less. Maybe this increasingly taxing venture will help me put things into perspective and lead me to the answers I am looking for. I know I want something more than this.