So the thing is, I've been in Ninaland for a little while. (For those of you who have never been there, it's an OK place. I mean I wouldn't raise my kids there, but you know). What does that mean? I don't know, I was in my own head, didn't feel like writing. Just didn't feel it, but now that the monster of a winter is almost over, I'm ready to re-engage. I think.
I sort of hibernated this winter, but didn't miss the big events like the Olympics. My grandfather also passed away this winter, so it made it harder to interpret life from my smart ass point of view. I'm not that smart. I have a Masters in writing from Columbia but my grandfather had a better grasp of the English language than I do. Really, he spoke and wrote better English than me.
But he lived to be ninety and as a tribute to him I would say I should be joyous. I should smile more. A lot of people think life is short, but I actually think life is long. I want to die in like my mid-eighties. I don't really want to live longer than that. Did I ever mention that I think it should be legal to do Crack when you are eighty? I mean what's the risk? OK, maybe not Crack because I hear it's not that long lasting.
So if I'm gonna live to be like eighty, middle age is like forty. Oh my I'm almost middle aged. I always assumed middle aged people were very boring and very desperate. You know, the crises. I wonder what I'll do for my midlife crises, I should plan it out. My theme song will be the theme song from "The Breakfast Club," "Don't you Forget about Me..."
Or maybe that should be my funeral theme song...hmm...party planning has never been my strong suit.
In many ways this has been the winter of my discontent. I felt a little blah, blah. I've many times felt as if I live in the wrong town, that I'm misunderstood and that I'm not sure if I fit in...anywhere...don't worry this is not a woe is me type of dialogue. I've always just felt slightly different than most people.
And although my moods can sometimes fluctuate, I generally have a positive attitude about life. Well something happened to me in the past few months...I temporarily lost that...optimism. And I'm trying to gain it back. I stepped away from life in some ways this winter, and I looked at it, closely.
What did I see, when my head wasn't wondering in Ninaland? I saw myself disappearing. I saw myself dying. We are all in fact dying, some faster than others. In some ways I played dead, and in fact it is experiences like this that make living so brilliant. Because you can't really see life for what it is until you see that it could disappear unto death.
Don't misinterpret this, I can just see someone thinking that I am suicidal. I am not, nor was I this winter. What I experienced was different, I just went into a cave and hid there for a while. Those that love me wondered what was going on, they worried, they created interventions. Those that spoke Nina finally got through to me and I am waking up from my sad little dream.
To put it simply I was a bit depressed. I was at first not going to use that word, because I was ashamed. Ashamed of what? Of being sad? This is part of my dimension. And as all good things come to an end, so do all bad things.
Writing about it is part of my healing. And if you judge me for being sad, I judge you for being mad. Mad as in crazy. The real crazy people are not those that can admit that life sucks sometimes, but those that can't admit that they are human.