Of Deeds Long Since Past.

I happened to be sending a female companion pictures of myself from when I had long hair, as she has a thing for guys with long hair. (Don’t believe the fools that say girls only want military cuts.) Naturally I got to get a good look at myself. I’ve been reckoning lately at my lack of smiles. They’re not everywhere, but they are there.

Anyway, I get this odd feeling when I look at pictures from that era. From that spring two years ago. I feel.. happiness. Which is the strangest thing in the context of what actually happened two years ago. After five semesters of stagnation at Rutgers, I finally awoke emotionally and started growing. Rapidly.

I look at those pictures and feel hope. I know what really happened then. The insomniac, the rapid mood shifts. I could go from high to low and back again in as little as an hour. It was the most chaotic mood swings I’ve ever experienced. It was depressing at times, but some part of me held out hope that there was something else that I just had to figure out, and then I’d get out of the hole. What would I have found had I stayed in that setting? I don’t know. The path I’ve taken has lead me to learn different things than I originally anticipated.

To be told “There is better than this”, I could not fathom what better is. I’ve had tastes of stability now and then, and I suppose that’s what keeps me going these days. You hold it together for a few hours. You hold it together for a few days. Then you hold it together for a few weeks. Eventually you calm down enough to realize, “Hey. This is doable.”

In some ways, this would be a lot easier if didn’t make a decision here or there that has irrevocably changed my life. At the very least, I have a great deal more emotional clarity now. If things didn’t happen this way, I don’t think the fog would have lifted like it did. What matters and what doesn’t matter, the internal chatter of your mind really ceases when you hit rock bottom. Clawing back up, I was able to tune out the negativity with purpose.

If it didn’t happen like this, I imagine it would have been a struggle of inches in a million directions, rather than a good mile in one direction. I would have been agast at all the things I would have had to get over, whereas I’m quite aware of what I have to do, albeit not every step of the way.

Ah, speaking in metaphor. ; )

But mostly, I miss my hair. Okay, I’m not my khakis, I’m not the things I dislike, and I’m not my long hair. But I loved my hair! Vanity aside, maybe it’s the reason that bothers me. A reminder of how this all played out.

So be it. Wounds heal, hair grows. And damn, I had some nice hair.

I’m apparently staying up late listening to DragonForce™. I should sleep eventually.