The Experiment

I often think about the rats that spend entire days in science experiments, learning not to go that way, or that they can sometimes smell cheese more when moving towards the direction of danger. I think of how many days I’ve spent searching for cheese in the most dank of places. I wonder just how many days I’ve done that out of 11906.9 days I’ve lived.

My 33rd birthday is only months away. My hair is turning gray much faster than I expected it would. I have crow’s feet and smile lines. (I’m pretty proud of my smile lines). I’m saying good-bye to a past life that I just happened to be the one to live. No tarot cards needed to see my former life and know it’s not mine anymore. I’m saying good-bye to some I used to love, some I used to know, some I thought would be there, and some I’ve chosen to move past. I’m coming to terms with grief and celebration all at once. Needless to say, the book publication has been a time of all emotions.

I’ve been angry about many things recently. I’ve been upset that people I once looked up to aren’t people I should have looked up to at all. I have come to accept that people cope in so many ways, and that 1) I don’t have to be loved by everyone to prove that I’m lovable and 2) I don’t have to like everyone to prove that I’m loving. There are just some people I sense bad in, without judgement, and I walk away. This new life is pretty testing, and it’s very freeing. Whoever thought that I (ME) would ever choose the people I let in my life?!

My Former Hypothesis
I’m going to be honest and speak of where I thought I’d be now. I always knew I’d be “okay” because I have drive. I always have. I have ideas. I’m creative. I know how to make the best out of something shitty. But, that’s just survival, isn’t it?

My Thesis

Being a survivor (of ANYTHING) is much more than surviving. Being a survivor is living, still dreaming–even when the world plots against every movement you made. When you are a survivor it does feel like the world is against you. I can’t think of a better way to describe it. It’s not a paranoia; it’s a coping mechanism that keeps us from getting too happy.

The Next Step

As my friend, Kacey, says: just breathe. It reminds me of a Garbage song I used to listen to, The Trick is to Keep Breathing. And, in both cases, it’s important and true.

I want to be me, but still figuring out who that is. I want to be loved in a way that I’m unsure humans can love. While I figure this out, I’m just going to breathe.

(Inhaling) (Exhaling)
(Cue smile lines)

© 2014 Angela M. Carter
photo credit: debaird™ via photopin cc