Momentary Blues

I downed the bottle without a second thought, anger and frustration being my only reasons for doing so. I didn't need water, it was the first time I didn't.

As I read the writing on the bottle, particularly the disclaimer section, the dawn of what I have just done finally hits me.

Rather than panic however, I am struck with a moment of existentialism. They always say you live out your entire life just before you die. They make it seem like it's one big cinematic masterpiece that you sit down and watch in an empty theater from your conception to your last breaths. They don't tell you that it's more somber than that.

It was in these final moments that I was overwhelmed by a frequent acquaintance whose name was sadness.

Sadness is a peculiar feeling.

Earlier in my life it was that feeling for when nothing went my way. When I didn't get the toys or the games that I had wanted or when some adult would harshly tell me "No!" when "No!" was the complete opposite of what I wanted to hear. Now luckily for me being denied those things and being told that were rare occurrences so I can't say that the feeling of sadness was prevalent in my formative years.

So it was that my childhood was a fairly happy period of my life. I possessed things that had brought me comfort and it was these same things that made me quite popular with kids my age which in turn fed into my ego. Now that I actually reflect on it I'm surprised that it never dawned on me that what I actually ever wanted was control. I may not like to admit it but I loved the power it had given me over others. How my friends would always kiss up to me just so they could come over and play the latest Ratchet and Clank or how none of my play mates at the time ever went against me out of fear that they wouldn't be invited to my birthday parties and thus become excluded and being labelled one of the 'weird' ones, as harsh as children can be. I can't say that meeting me as a young kid would be a fairly pleasant affair but I also wouldn't say I was malicious in my actions either. Merely scared. I knew that everything I had was only for the things I had and if those things were to disappear then that creeping dread called sadness would take over my life.

As I grew older sadness began to manifest itself as loneliness. And as others grew and developed personalities and interests I was left behind with nothing. Those things that had originally brought me joy in my younger years were now meaningless. I found myself devoid of anything and without purpose. And so I set out to find out who I was. To figure out what defined me. But no matter what I tried, no matter what I set out to do I could never achieve what I had pictured in my head. I was no athlete my childhood was filled with stories of being picked last (that is until they all suddenly wanted to be my friends, I wonder why...), I lacked the hand eye coordination, speed and overall toughness that it took to play sport which made every P.E class seem like an iron man challenge in comparison. I lacked both the natural ability as well as the time and patience that learning any kind of musical instrument requires, and when it came to academics.... well lets just say I thought myself smart but my grades at the end of each term said something completely different, much to my parents dismay.

Relationships weren't exactly spectacular either. Any woman who may have initially made the mistake of having any sort of affection towards me soon realised that I was dead weight. Their love, and infatuation not fading but more so switching off as direct as a light switch. Seeing that moment in their eyes as their love for me disappeared like a lost thought, well lets just say that didn't help my drinking.

As the creeping sadness turned into suffocating depression I turned towards drugs and alcohol to keep it at bay. At first it worked, the disorienting buzz acting as a momentary relief quelled the dangerous thoughts my mind would conjure. But the more I would indulge in those eagerly needed distractions the more the thoughts adapted to the circumstance. Like an infection becoming resistant to the medication introduced to treat it, my depressive thoughts spread stronger than ever before using what I so desperately wanted to believe was my salvation to completely take hold of me and bend me to its will.

And it won.

I look in the mirror. My hair is messy and rugged and littered with bald spots from where I had pulled it out in moments of pure frustration. My eyes are bloodshot red and enveloped completely with hopelessness. My face is droopy but I don't even care anymore.

That's not what matters now.

Yes, I lost and I'm not afraid to admit it. But I'm not going to go out this way. I've spent far too long dwelling on thoughts I didn't want to think about. If I am to die let it be with a smile on my face and that image of happiness resonating in my mind.

And it is with this internal resolution that for the first time in my life I am able to think with such clarity and focus that I am able to instantly identify the happiest moment in my life.

It is my sixth birthday. I am surrounded by my Mum, Dad, brother, sisters, and grandmother. I open my mouth to take a bite of the cake my mother is feeding me. She smiles as I chomp down on the black forest she made and I smile upon seeing hers. As I turn to look at each of my family members I am met with nothing less than their gleeful, beaming grins and eyes radiating with love. They don't want anything from me. They don't care about what I have, they don't care about my mistakes, they don't care that I'm good at nothing. They love me for who I am. Just as I am.

Maybe I should have given it more thought I say to myself in the present as I chuckle.

In the end when the numbness has reached every part of my body and my consciousness has moved on, I leave the world with that long sought after resolve and the biggest smile on my face.