a love of wisdom
I am a tremendously unstable person. The past 2 years, though, have been relatively uneventful, on the emotional-breakdown front. I've managed to scrape together a heretofore unknown quantity of sanity. This all comes at a price, however.
The price I pay for a life of sanity is not having a life at all.
I have friends...great friends, but they are all very...sane, very normal, which is wonderful except that it isn't how I used to live. I used to exist surrounded by people like me, I was miserable and joyous and miserable again, surrounded by people whose minds worked like mine...people who are fundamentally broken but incredible.
I gave all this up, to ensure that I didn't wind up dead or committed. Occasionally, I question the wisdom of this decision. I gave up a life filled with essentially unlimited wonder for peace and calm. Except that's not quite right, that's in the past tense. I give it up every day, I pass up opportunities, I fall out of touch with people, I get scared and crawl back into my hiding places.
Sometimes, I question the wisdom of these decisions.
The price I pay for a life of sanity is not having a life at all.
I have friends...great friends, but they are all very...sane, very normal, which is wonderful except that it isn't how I used to live. I used to exist surrounded by people like me, I was miserable and joyous and miserable again, surrounded by people whose minds worked like mine...people who are fundamentally broken but incredible.
I gave all this up, to ensure that I didn't wind up dead or committed. Occasionally, I question the wisdom of this decision. I gave up a life filled with essentially unlimited wonder for peace and calm. Except that's not quite right, that's in the past tense. I give it up every day, I pass up opportunities, I fall out of touch with people, I get scared and crawl back into my hiding places.
Sometimes, I question the wisdom of these decisions.