The Grips

It's all just too much. I'm not going to say I can't take it because I can and I will. But it's becoming a weight around my neck, pulling me down little by little. I don't know what to do about it. The more I try not to think about it the more I can't help it. It's always there, sitting and waiting in the back of my mind for an idle moment. I find myself wishing I constantly had something to do. Something to keep me occupied twenty four seven. I haven't found anything like that yet. There's nothing out there to guard me against the solemn drive to and from work. Nothing to distract me as I lie awake in bed waiting for sleep to come. Nothing to keep me from dreaming.

I don't understand why I feel this moved. I wasn't there. Should it really be affecting me as much as it is? The selfish part of me wants to pretend like it never happened. Maybe most of me wants to do that. I want to feel like I did last Friday. I don't remember what I felt like that day, I just know it wasn't like this. I know it was better, easier, painless. I think I was stronger then. A little more naive but out of that ignorance came courage. The world didn't seem so dark then. It's mystery weren't so numerous, it's evils not as prevalent. There weren't pitfalls around every turn then. It's amazing that something 300 miles away could change my life in an instant. I whole heartedly wish it never happened. I wish I could forget the whole thing but I know I'd never convince myself of it. It's a reality that we all face but that none of us should have to.

It's not like ignoring it will make it go away. It's impossible to ignore anyway. It's everywhere I turn. From the lips of a coworker to the front page of foxnews.com, there's always a gun, resting in the hands of a madman, pointed squarely at my head. Always stories and information and details and more stories. All of which are about something I'm trying desperately not to think of. I've been limiting my exposure to a couple times a day. I can't help but stay up to date. If I left myself to my own devices I know I'd be pulled into reading the same quotes over and over again. Watching the same videos on repeat (I'm not going to watch the videos by the way. There's nothing I need to hear from that fucking asshole. To me, he doesn't exist and I won't waste my time it). I'd be sucked into the spinning of a never ending toilet flush and it'd take forever to claw my way out. I can't let that happen but it's so hard not to when the water screams of answers to questions I never wanted to ask but subconsciously did. The quest for knowledge can lead to some pretty dark places.

I dreamed about it last night. I day dream about it all the time. I put myself in the scene and think about what I would have done. I can't stop myself from running scenarios over and over, each time with a different outcome. I want to think I would have stood up and fought back. That I would have done something to try to stop it. That I would have gone down fighting. I just wish I could have done something. But I know I probably would have curled into a tight ball on the floor and prayed for deliverance. It's disappointing, knowing that I wouldn't fight off my natural instincts and try to be a hero. It's just one more log to throw on the fire that's burning me up from the inside out. I don't want to but I imagine the fear, the pain, the confusion and panic. My mind falls short of what must have been reality. I don't know how the people who were there can handle it. I hope they stay strong. And the parent must be crushed. It's every parents worst nightmare to get a call like the one they received.

I need to stop thinking, dwelling, obsessing about it. I need to stop writing about it. So this will be the last time that I do. I need to get it out of my head. I need to start feeling like me again. I don't know when that's going to be. There's no precedent for things like this. Like a brightly colored fabric bleaching in the sunlight, I'll have to wait till the feelings fade. The impatient part of me doesn't want to wait. It wants me to be normal now. Unfortunately, as much as I might agree with it, neither of us has the ability to mold time to our wills. We can't even find or press the fast forward button. I know I should, but I can't stay here. I have to move on. I have to find a way. I can't stay here. I not scared to go to sleep tonight but I don't want to have another dream like last night, especially now that my mind has actual images to use.