Watching you sleep. . .

You lay there, quietly sleeping. I'm an hour into taking two benadrylls, just to calm my anxiety. Your torso is against my thigh and I'm surprised the light from the lap top and soft tapping doesn't wake you with how close we are. But you have worked 24hrs in two days with poor disturbed sleep. You deserve these solid 9 hours with the one (1) benadryll that knocked you out while listening to me talking.

I see you wake up and go to work, make and keep plans with friends and family. You enjoy them with laughter and smiles. For yourself and for others. All things I fail at.

You told me you are proud of me today.

I asked for what.

And your reply was "I know you don't think you do anything or make any progress, but you do so much for me and have come so far, I don't even mean mentally, I mean everything. Overcoming the religion, all the bigotry, everything. You're amazing and I'm so glad I got to meet you."

He's right. I've done a lot. There are billions of stagnant people in the world. They say it is ever changing, but humans are predictable, selfish, arrogant, self righteous, pious, little shits. And even after all my inner and outer self work, expelling so much hate, I'm still uncomfortable with who I am. There is still so much hate, so much anger. So much to undo. And while I'm so grateful I left a different life of difficulty behind. But the soul, trapped in this flesh suit, doesn't want to exist in this world.

I've brought it up several times in others blogs before.... the idea that "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger" and how I'd just rather just stay weak, because it was so hard to get here, I doesn't feel it's worth it. The idea that the nothingness death could bring is far more glorious than almost any human craving I've ever had.

With the weight of the worlds views and racism in current events after George Floyd's public aired murder, I can understand why there are still so many racist people. It's hard to change. Extremely hard. It hurts.

It's also expensive to change. And not just financially with all the therapy and impatient mental health hospitalizations I've had and am in debt to. It cost me friends, employment, sales in my business, my way of life. Very few things have meaning and purpose. Changing is so scary, people get comfortable with all sort of things, even ruthless murder, in the name of not being willing to change. Indeed the price to freedom, speaking up, and doing what is right, is costly.

I was taught growing up "the path less traveled by is often the correct road." Indeed that road is lonely and difficult. Here I am. Throw your stones. #BlackLivesMatter

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I knew I never wanted to be like my parents. I didn't always know why. I realize now my self awareness is a huge part of why. My parents stopped growing. They stopped developing as people. They don't read books, they don't search out new music. They aren't spontaneous. They don't immerse themselves in diversity, travel, or deep stimulating conversations. I feel there is more of me that is not similar than is. Their monotonous lives tick in predictable circles on the clock that measures our life progress. And yet part of their genetic code built someone like me.

Someone who sucks at being dependable. Someone who struggles with mental illness with every turn and decision of my daily life. (*looks in mirror* "should I brush my teeth or kill myself today? *thinks* Lets do both! You get em' tiger!") Someone who loves learning and people watching. Someone with deep thought, concern and constant worry. Who loves vibrant, colorful, meaningful music. Someone who asks why and does the opposite of directions just to see what happens. To learn. Someone detail oriented. Someone who left their previous life behind, picked up a new one, and is barely an echo of what they remember me being. They don't know me. At all.

Once when my dad was filling out a missing persons report in 2019, he didn't even know my eye color. (26 years and you don't know my eye color?) He got angry at me for that once he found me in the hospital. . . He doesn't know me at all.

And you with your beautiful, spacious mind, room for only love and servitude, already taught not to treat others differently, sleep peacefully beside me without ever knowing what 5 minutes in my brain would do you to.

It's better that way. Stay asleep.

#BlackLivesMatter #Justice4Floyd #WereNotDoneYet