I can't say I was depressed or suicidal. I was actually excited but I was suffering from sleep deprivation and I was quite overworked. I had left home and family and embarked on something most of my friends didn't have the courage or money to do. I didn't have the money to do it either but I figured I was young and didn't need sleep, so I could work in what little spare time I had.
Yet, there was something about that night. It's as if I felt my past and future all at once. I felt bad for abandoning everyone I knew to embark on my adventure and I knew I would make mistakes in the future because I knew I was psychologically broken, which is probably why the life of an artist seemed to fit so well at the time. I felt sorry for everything, for having to be so different and leave everything behind. It was probably the loneliest night of my life. I was in this tiny little Manhattan apartment and my roommate just moved in with someone else. I was holding my favorite pocket knife and found it coming up towards my neck.
That's when she appeared. She was me from the future and she knew what I had done and what I would still do. It were as if she was warning me. She knew I could never be exactly the way other people wanted me to be and at first, it made me hate myself more. I was so scared that I would keep fucking up. She knew I would but I wished I could avoid it all. For that moment in time, I didn't want to be her. For a moment all this regret over everything I had and would screw up came over me.
Then another me appeared, one from even farther off in the future, a much older version of me. And she just looked at me, telepathically telling me that I shouldn't change a thing. She said that I would go on an amazing adventure, and just like a story book character, I would make mistakes and things would happen that I hadn't planned for but that all of those things would make me who I am. She said that if I changed anything, I wouldn't end up being the awesome person she turned out to be, and really, I was already awesome, just feeling a bit sorry for myself for a moment. But she knew I knew that and that I always knew it because I was the one who chose this adventure and if I wanted life to be easy and simple, I wouldn't have done it.
I put the knife down, got up the next day determined to do what I set out to do, open to whatever came my way. I knew that life could be messy, and if it were one blissful Prozac dream without any guilt, fear or anger, it would hardly be life. I would have ups and downs but I would get through it. It helps that I wanted to be a writer. It helps to know what great stories are made of and to see the big picture.
I think back to that night a lot and it makes me strangely calm, seeing myself from the past, present and future and knowing that no matter how much I change, I'll still always be me.
Yet, there was something about that night. It's as if I felt my past and future all at once. I felt bad for abandoning everyone I knew to embark on my adventure and I knew I would make mistakes in the future because I knew I was psychologically broken, which is probably why the life of an artist seemed to fit so well at the time. I felt sorry for everything, for having to be so different and leave everything behind. It was probably the loneliest night of my life. I was in this tiny little Manhattan apartment and my roommate just moved in with someone else. I was holding my favorite pocket knife and found it coming up towards my neck.
That's when she appeared. She was me from the future and she knew what I had done and what I would still do. It were as if she was warning me. She knew I could never be exactly the way other people wanted me to be and at first, it made me hate myself more. I was so scared that I would keep fucking up. She knew I would but I wished I could avoid it all. For that moment in time, I didn't want to be her. For a moment all this regret over everything I had and would screw up came over me.
Then another me appeared, one from even farther off in the future, a much older version of me. And she just looked at me, telepathically telling me that I shouldn't change a thing. She said that I would go on an amazing adventure, and just like a story book character, I would make mistakes and things would happen that I hadn't planned for but that all of those things would make me who I am. She said that if I changed anything, I wouldn't end up being the awesome person she turned out to be, and really, I was already awesome, just feeling a bit sorry for myself for a moment. But she knew I knew that and that I always knew it because I was the one who chose this adventure and if I wanted life to be easy and simple, I wouldn't have done it.
I put the knife down, got up the next day determined to do what I set out to do, open to whatever came my way. I knew that life could be messy, and if it were one blissful Prozac dream without any guilt, fear or anger, it would hardly be life. I would have ups and downs but I would get through it. It helps that I wanted to be a writer. It helps to know what great stories are made of and to see the big picture.
I think back to that night a lot and it makes me strangely calm, seeing myself from the past, present and future and knowing that no matter how much I change, I'll still always be me.
The awesome illustration comes from the from the The Four Swords Theater. I must check out one of their shows next time I'm in that part of the world. http://four-of-swords.com/
