Crossroad

I put my pants on one leg at a time like everyone else. I brush my teeth with Colgate toothpaste, twice a day. I pick between light and dark roast coffee at Starbucks. I choose what music station to listen to in the car on the way to work. I can't change a tire, but I can belt out every word to Rhianna's "Disturbia."

What I don't tell anyone, or admit to myself, is that in between all these routine moments, I am panicking. Any moment can turn into a downward spiral. All I have to do is think about my existence, my past, my pain.

It's a tic. It's a voice in my head, unconscious - I walk into rooms and look around at the ceiling, thinking about where I could hang a rope. I stare too long at sharp objects. My mind is not my friend.

I come to a personal crossroads every day. Do I choose the path where I destroy myself, or the path where I survive?

I didn't think I'd live this long. I'm stunted. I have limped along to get this far, thinking only in terms of living to the weekend. My younger sibling has since gone to graduate school at a university akin to Harvard, gotten a job that pays almost 100K, has a child with an adoring husband. I'm left wondering, what have I done with my life? I think back to therapy, where I was taught to "turn the mind" - think about positivity in the face of sadness. I have spent fifteen years turning the mind and I am tired.

The terrifying part is it's not black and white. Good brain, bad brain. Pain, happiness. The unconscious and destructive part of my brain that leads me to think negatively often bleeds into the rational, sane part of my brain. Like an addict, I have to sometimes physically remove myself from certain environments lest I be tempted by certain self-destruction. But sometimes it's not that easy.

Think of it as like a person on a diet. They aren't going to wander into an ice cream shop, say. They don't seek out what they are trying to avoid. But then they go to a birthday party - in my world, this is akin to being alone for too long, staying in bed all day. The person on a diet might cave, say, I'll just have one bite of ice cream. But one bite is all it takes. In my world, one "bad" thought and it could lead to hospitalization.

I live very carefully. I think very carefully. I think with other people - I'm going to go ahead and use the word "neurotypical" - they can trust their thoughts. They don't live moment to moment at a crossroads in their own mind. To inflict pain, to not inflict pain. I know I have a disease. I'm addicted to pain, maybe, in love with my own suffering. But that's just it - there's the "bad" part of my brain, telling me I want it.

Every day is waking up to a new crossroads, picking which path to go down. Every day I have to choose to be happy and sane, go down that particular path. Just like I put my pants on one leg at a time every morning, it's always a new day, a new battle, a new resolve to beat my own internal monologue.