My life used to be very different. In terms of a life that resembles my life previously, this life is nothing close to what I used to have. The life I used to have is a distant memory of what I have now. This cage holds me tight in its grip.
When I was growing up, I used to do stuff. I was way more active in my life, both physically, and socially. I grew up riding bicycles doing freestyle and BMX riding.
There were times people were afraid of seeing me ride my bike, what was normal for me, was all too much for them; they objected to riding with both feet on the handle bars while coasting down the street without a helmet or knee pads.
I had a motorcycle that I rode and was pretty good at it. I grew up knowing how to downhill snow ski, and made use of every chance I could get to hit the slopes. I learned to ski at double black diamond levels, and got quite a thrill from skiing like a wild man.
I also took up indoor rock climbing, and found it to be the real challenge both physically, and psychologically. Because to really climb well, it takes a lot of psychological skill to climb and keep your wits about you. Most people would think what I was doing was impossible. It wasn’t, there are people that climb way above me.
I used to go dancing, and was quite good at it. I took to swing dancing, because I thought the music was good, and it was fun to dance with pretty chicks at the Derby. Often several nights a week, I could be found dancing east cost swing, with some good food.
My skills were better back then, my ability to do things that took strength, endurance, and talent that are all required to be able to stay alive. I took up rollerblading, and was very agile on my feet. Really there wasn’t much that didn’t have wheels that I didn’t do, or try.
This all changed twenty years ago. My life took some awful wrong turn that I had no control of. It wasn’t that I did something stupid, nor was it that I got hurt. Well, I did get hurt really, really bad; but it wasn’t anything I had control over.
They said it was a chemical imbalance in my mind, and that I wasn’t to be considered a sane man any longer. Something somewhere had screwed my life up really bad. My life that I knew and loved was gone, in whole; the life I used to have has completely been taken from me. The life I have today; it is nothing compared to the living I was doing twenty years ago. What is more, this life I have now, it’s not really living; it is closer to a living death.
It feels so damn unfair that my life was taken from me. There were things that I enjoyed doing a great deal; none of which I have been able to do or take part of in twenty years. I long for the days I was physically challenging myself to push my limits, to go fast on wheels, and enjoy the rush of adrenaline in my body that made me feel alive.
This existence, it’s not living; it’s a living death. There is no rush from what I can do these days. I’ve tried to get the same feeling from other things that I used to know and enjoy. Nothing compares to what I used to have. There simply isn’t anything I could do today to give me the same feeling. I have no friends, no job, no girlfriend, and it doesn’t look like that situation will ever change in this life.
My life today isn’t fun, it isn’t even interesting. I am confined to my house, only leaving for coffee, or a trip to the store. My life isn’t very enjoyable, because the things that I used to find enjoyable, and challenging; are not options any longer.
It seems ruthless cruel that I have been forced to live like zombie cat shit, being drugged out of my mind to enjoy a living death. I think that they last thing I would ever say is that I have enjoyed this life the last twenty years.
Sure there are other things to get enjoyment from, I still do what I can; but the enjoyments I used to have were far better than what I can do today. It is difficult to get a real thrill from coding html, not that it doesn’t have some rewards, but my family treats my accomplishments these days like they are worthless trash. I would like to see them do what I’ve done the last five years. Yeah, that would be fun.
I’m very good at what I do, its the only way I can get a thrill. Still, I find that I long for the days I was challenging myself physically. My life today while peaceful, is lacking anything that produces the same feelings that being physically skilled and pushing the limits of what I can do. Somehow, a dog walk just doesn’t have the same rush that going thirty miles an hour on rollerblades has.
I long for the times my life was better. I keep saying, “Life has to get better.” However, it seems I’ve come to terms with the fact, in this body; life isn’t going to get better. Pity, this life is a living death. I wanted better. Just a piece of advice, take care of your teeth, they rot out fast once they start to go. Wish I had been better about what I could have done about it; but it is far too late now.
However, their cry’s of my insanity; what I have to say about that is this; they live like zombie house cats. I want to live my life; and better than most ever dream. Most people in this world don’t really live; they just exist. Pity. They will never know what really living is like.
This cage I have now, someday its going to be replaced. Life has to get a lot better, and right quick.
Written by Ctopher Thomas, A Real Misfit