Running Blind

Dr. Katz told me there was a reason behind my recent sprints through the night. She made me feel so utterly normal.

Sitting in her office, telling her about my late nights and benders, I asked her what it was I was running from. Obviously she did not have an answer for me, they never do, but I still like to treat her like an oracle, hoping one day she will offer me a real pearl.

Then I asked, "Why doesn't anyone ever tell me what to do? Where were the protesters when I dropped out? Where are the naggers telling me I've had enough to drink? My facade of single mindedness must make them all shrug and collectively say, Felicia knows best. Sometimes I wish someone would try to tell me what to do, even though I probably wouldn't listen anyways."

Looking at me thoughtfully from across her desk she said, "Part of me wants to tell you to stop it, but another part of me thinks that you are just working things out for yourself. This could be an opportunity." She asked me that makes me angry, I said no. I told her it is exactly what I would expect her to say, but the bit about it being an opportunity, about me being okay, that actually made me feel better.

We spoke a bit longer and I left feeling like maybe I was simply crashing so that I could find out what was down there, crashing so that I could pick myself back up and start anew.

I also came to the shameful realization that sometimes I still do wish someone would save me. I am old enough to know that there is no one coming, there never has been. You have to save yourself, and sometimes the quickest way up is down.