If life was representable by the spiky line that marks your heartbeats, then the drops would be the lows of your life and the spikes, the highs. There comes a point in that lifeline where you begin to realise you’re currently living out the lowest drop of your life.
It doesn’t matter why. For some, it could be something small that leads to a bigger problem. For some, a series of misfortunes that happen consecutively. The trigger is not important. Not in that moment of despair, at least. Because, no matter how many times you may ask yourself the question, ‘How the hell did I even get here?’, there is no right answer in that moment of despair. There are justifications. And assumptions. Fantasies and wonderment about what led you there. But, more often than not, it takes a heavy blend of time, support systems and a constant desire to conquer it to get out of the low. To reach the point where you stop asking yourself how you got here and ask yourself how you can get out of it.
Many will say that to figure out the root cause would be the best way to deal with the situation. But, I wonder just how many are actually looking for the root cause, that in all probability lies within them, when they want to know how they came to be like this. Because really, what they’re asking is, ‘Why did it have to be me?’ or ‘How could God or Life or Fate or Destiny have let so much happen to me?’ or ‘What could I have possibly done wrong to deserve this?’
We all want to believe that we are the best. That somehow, we are most deserving of happiness because we’re either nice people or rich people or successful people or kind or sweet or famous or attractive or superior or selfless or animal-lovers or or or…We all have that one quality that we believe to be our redemption. That we believe is the reason we are entitled to the best in life. So, to be able to come to a point where you stop blaming the world for treating you like crap and actually start questioning what it is about you that is leading to all this crap, is a long, painful journey. I’ve never completed it. Or, perhaps I have. I don’t know for sure. But, I feel like I’m beginning to. I feel like I’m willing to. And yes, it sounds easy and convenient and perhaps condescending to say this, but it starts with you. It does.
Now, let’s be very clear here. I’m not saying you should sit down and blame yourself for everything wrong that has happened in your life. If that was how it worked, then the most ‘strong-minded’ people in the world would never have to face crap. But, they do. So, clearly, even though we’re supposedly in charge of our destinies, we’re really not. And yet, we are. You cannot control what happens to you. You cannot control the complex equations fed by the multiple arms of fate, destiny, luck, chance and coincidence into your life-machine. You cannot control the fact that though we’re all eventually living our individual lives by ourselves, we are inexplicably bound and connected to so many others. You cannot control how those connected to you view or choose to respond to this connection. You cannot control that somehow all these complex equations and webs and threads of connectivity join together to make you suffer so much. You cannot control any of this. Because, it’s not for you to control. It’s not for you to decide. This is the pre-production of your film, the test you didn’t expect, the interview you didn’t prepare for. This is not yours to shape.
But, the result is not made of only all this. There is a huge factor in this equation that can change the very nature of it. You. Of course, you. Your reaction. Your handling of the situation. Your outlook. If you weren’t an important component in this equation, the results wouldn’t differ across humanity. Every person who survived an accident would have the same outlook. Every human who lost someone would either move forward or die in grief. He wouldn’t be unpredictable at his worst because everyone’s worst would be the same. But, they aren’t. Because while one person may choose to deal with loss with a step as drastic as say, suicide, another may use it as an inspiration to his art, using it to express the grief in a way that may not lessen it but would definitely prevent it from becoming self-destructive. Or not.
There is no hard-an-fast here. No right or wrong. No inspirational ‘your life is in your hands, literally’. Because, really, who’s to say. We all go through different shit and we all respond to it differently. This isn’t one of those testing-your-reflexes-by-tapping-a-hammer-on-your-knees sort of thing. This is life. This is grief. This is humanity at its rawest, most vulnerable. This is as unpredictable as it gets.
So, I’m not going to give you advice or try to inspire you, here. I’m just going to say, ‘think about it. It might bring you out of your drop faster than expected.’