Those five tabs continue to haunt me.

They are : Notd, a truly excellent forum for writers which would make a great springboard for, at the very least, network with other writers and all I would have to do is summon the self-confidence to upload my stuff to it…

FlexJobs, a site specializing in remote work jobs which might be perfect for me if I could only pull myself together enough to page through the listings until I find one I am actually qualified for…

The March of Dimes Employment Services page, which has all kinds of resources to help gimps like myself find the employment we need to become more independent…

The March of Dimes Skill Up page, which would enable me to acquire the skills needed to actually qualify for stuff…

And this video, which promises 15 juicy remote work opportunities.

All five of these things are wonderful opportunities that could very well be the golden ticket I need in order to finally enter the magical world of employment.

And then I would be a real honest to goodness grownup! Golly!

And they all just sit there like wallpaper with me almost never even thinking about them and when I do notice them there, I immediately avert my attention from those terrible things that make me feel tense and scared and guilty.

Which is why these golden tickets go unredeemed. I am far too prone to fleeing things that scare me by diving deep into my distractions (video games) until I forget all about whatever it was that set me off.

And what sets me off in this case is, I suppose, fear of growing up. Fear of changing. Fear of entering an environment, however virtual, with which I am unfamiliar and therefore one that would be far more stimulating that my usual life and it’s that jump in stimulation levels that scares me.

I associate all such jumps with anxiety attacks, and that’s why I am still on this long smooth flat road to absolutely nowhere because when you can’t choose anything that increases your stimulation you end up at the bottom of a steep ravine.

If you can’t go up, your only choices are to go down or go nowhere.

And while my road seems flat, I’m actually going down a very gradual but fatal decline and at the bottom of this hill lies my early, stupid, pointless grave.

And ain’t that a kick in the nuts.

And I know it’s my own cowardice that is keeping me trapped on this long and lonely road. I am a hostage to my own extremely overactive fear responses and it does not seem like they will let me go any time soon.

So I find myself increasingly contemplating my own kind of “lean in” strategy where instead of trying to quiet my fears or somehow overcome them in a macho manly way (yeah right), I simply endure the terror.

Just walk right into it and let it wash over me. Let it discharge like so much static electricity. Wait for it to wear itself out, then go ahead and do the thing anyway.

And if that fails, pop a Xanax. What the hell.

Something has to end the chokehold my fears have on my every moment. There has to be some way to get past that massive wall of fear and it’s seeming increasingly likely that the only way out is through.

Maybe that’s how I teach my soul to fly. I keep talking about not being limited by the logical and the sensible, but I am still driving around looking for an exit.

When I know that the only way to get there is to fly. Leave logic and common sense behind and just go there even if it doesn’t make sense at all. Even if there’s no logical connection between what came before and what I want to happen.

Even if there is no road to that holy place at all, and the only way to get there is to fly.

It is truly a handicap to need things to always make sense. It can lead to a remarkably well integrated and robust understanding of things, but it’s no good for the soul.

Sometimes reality simply does not furnish what we need.

And then, we have to be able to make it ourselves.

More after the break.

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Leave this world behind

Perhaps it’s because my subjective world is so unreal, but I cling to what connection to reality I still retain with a fanatical deathgrip for fear of the vast and hungry canyon of total mental oblivion over which I am dangling.

Madness lurks below. Or so I’ve always thought.

But maybe that is all bullshit. Maybe I could let go and not only would I be fine, I would actually be way better off because now my mind can find its natural equilibrium and I could learn to relax and not be so freaking anxious all the time.

Ah, but can I afford to risk it? What if I’m wrong and I do end up utterly mad?

That is how paranoia always works. It sets things up so that the consequences of disobeying it just might be far, far worse than any benefit – might, in fact, be fatal, either literally or metaphorically, and thus makes it seem “not worth the risk”.

It’s the perfect scam, because it keeps you from ever testing whether or not it’s valid.

I mean, if there’s a real possibility that turning on your light will cause an explosion that will kill you and your entire family, you’re probably going to just get used to the dark.

But is that a real possibility? Or rather, is it in any sense at all likely?

And if it isn’t, why do you keep scaring yourself with the possibility? What does that cycle of fear keep from happening? What are you REALLY scared of?

Anyhow. This tight grip on my connection to reality might be partially to blame for why faith seems so impossible to me.

Because to have faith, I would have to let go. For the first time in my life, I would have to leave the tightly integrated structure of my rational model of the universe and enter a world of pure emotion and intuition, and that scares the shit out of me.

I can’t verify emotion. I can’t test intuition’s reasoning. I can’t examine their justification and see if it checks out. I can’t be sure of anything at all.

Or maybe I could be sure of all of it if I could just believe.

But I can’t, or at least, not yet. I can’t believe something (or in something) without having a reason to do so. It has to make sense to me.

But belief without the need for justification is the definition of faith.

And I don’t know if I can do that.

I just know that I need to.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.