Aftershocks

Few years ago I was in a car wreck. Nothing medical but serious auto damage. Then, much to my consternation, I had a nervous time driving after that. How did I know it wasn't going to happen again? Didn't expect a pickup to jump the curb last time, so how can you know you're safe? No matter what I did I couldn't stop the paranoia. Eventually it faded but I remember that helpless feeling.

That feeling has returned - in spades.

What brought me to my felony charge was a completely reckless and irrational moment of self-destruction. What guarantee do I have it won't happen again? Will I become wholly delusional and think because I dodged one bullet I can dodge them all? That's the kind of shit running through my head.

I can't tell you how not fun that is and disturbing.

I almost FUBAR'd my life. Or maybe what I was trying to say with that insane act is that I already believe my life is FUBAR. Damn, the crap that goes through my mind in nonstop chatter. Been having flashbacks to the impersonal police station and the interrogation room straight out of a Turkish nightmare. I've actually been able to recall a few scenes where I rewrite with a couple of smart ass responses. That's a good sign - but only a glimmer.

One thing has occurred to me since then and now that it has I'm noticing it everywhere: it's so much easier to defend a lie than the truth. I was stumbling all over myself. But when I rewind the scene and think of selling a lie, it's like a big relief comes over me and I feel free to say anything and do it with the utmost conviction. You know, it's like practicing to be a conservative.

All these confidant liars I see on TV, I completely understand them now. I used to wonder why they speak things so patently and obviously false. It's because you feel safer doing that. And if you can sucker someone into debating your lies instead of the actual truth, you win! Such a feeling of power. No one's going to vote for some idiot stumbling through the truth. That makes you like the one guy on the police force not on the take: you just make yourself a target.

I live in fear of myself. I need something that works for me instead of always working against me - which is all I know. I have no clue how to achieve that. It's true I've led a very dishonest life and it cost me every opportunity that came along. Of course, every crime is a means of self-expression. I haven't been a legal criminal in my life - but it's certainly been a criminal life. Maybe that's what drove the irrational impulse.

"Remember the feel of the police station." That one spine shivering thought keeps me in line now. But will it fade over time? Will I write revisionist history that it wasn't so bad? I can barely even stand to listen to music. I just want to sit in the corner with my head in my hands chanting "My God!" over and over. The people I see walking around, they know nothing of my troubles. Dear God don't force me to make small talk.

Part of me is grateful this happened, this sobering contact with reality. I live too much in my head, shaping the world as I wish it to be. Those cops didn't give a solitary fuck what was in my head or my oh-so-important philosophy. Jesus! Clearly, what I did was not the answer even with all the internal and external pressures acting on me. But if I just keep on keeping on, won't I end up at the edge of the cliff again - or over it?

Night is coming and I'm afraid. I keep hearing that girl who publicly humiliated me. "Go beat your...fear," she slayed with a smile. Last time I try that. Maybe I should just get ready to die.