Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Twister

repose and reflection do not seem to be in the emotion lexicon of an adrenaline junkie. I use the word lexicon because emotions are a language -- one that we do not necessarily learn at home.
I know what it's like to live an adrenaline-full existence with flushed cheeks, bad language and heart palpitations. I dipped into the adrenaline jar through my one and only addiction: overworking.
Sometimes, home becomes unwelcoming and unhomelike and you seek a reprieve from its spiritual vanquishment.
Your reasoning during highly adrenalized times is devoid of reason.
Adrenaline is a terrible driver that ignores the speed limit; it is the perpetual teenager whose only aim is to be astray and lead others there.
While a low-level adrenaline junkie may never commit a crime, (s)he might break the energy bank -- thereby leaving the adrenal glands shriveled and near death.
The low-level adrenaline junkie discovers at a young age that (s)he has a propensity for triumph in the face of adversity.
This is a wonderful boost to that which should be small and powerful, the ego.
I have known many in my life who only feel alive inside the ring, facing down the next disaster.
The fight consumes all other life forms like a California wildfire like no other.
Back to repose and reflection.
I am definitely a reposer and a reflector. I have already enjoyed all the dumb nonsense any one human should have to endure.

Those in it are in it up to their eyeballs; no, they are in it past their eyeballs cause they can't see anymore.
Freneticism takes over and you imagine if freneticism were a religion, the pastor would have a big snake around his neck and he'd call each bite of the snake a revelation.
The congregation would be strewn on the ground and appear as if they were playing Twister except there wouldn't be any Twister mats.
It all goes to say that this is me riffing on how we avoid those things too overpowering to handle in the moment with overdoing; adrenaline is a natural painkiller and working too much allowed me to postpone mourning the murders of my nephew and cousin. I did social work to avoid the social suicides and literal suicides of those I loved.
I hope this isn't too many images for you at one time.
Anyway, now, go get some rest.

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1 comment:

EDITH CLEMENS said...

That's a Twister. Yes, that's so true. It has no reason , reflection or recovery. Overworking it runs in our families and only with recovery can we try to quit