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Chapter 13
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Interjection Two I’ve occasionally been overwhelmed with endless thoughts that would keep me awake at night. They would create what seemed to be a plague in my mind. A pot that was unable to boil over or like Pan being unable to fly.
In the summer of 2003 I went to college in Sydney Australia to study Digital media and run away from my personal problems. I could run, but I couldn’t hide. A couple months after I got there I started waking up in the middle of the night itching all over. I couldn’t figure out what was causing it. I got new sheets, pillows, and I even tried a new detergent. Nothing could explain what was making me itch. I remember lying in bed constantly scratching and not being able to go back to sleep.
My itchiness persisted and after hours of what seemed like endless racing thoughts I couldn’t take it anymore! Why do all the roads fit together - why aren't there more car accidents? Why does everything somehow work and who's directing everything? How can the tv show these shows and movies and seamlessly transition to commercial? Why can you love someone who doesn’t love you back? Why is this country half a world away almost the same as the one I ran away from?? Why were the problems I left behind following me? Why can’t I stop thinking, what is going on??!?!
How, why, how, why, why why. I couldn’t get questions out of my mind. There was something really wrong but I couldn’t figure it out.. I would spend most of the night in a quazi-sleep-itchy-hell, all in my head.. I started to become obsessed with the exact moment that consciousness was turned off and sleeping began. I would wait for it, wait for it, wait for it but it would only come once I forgot what I was waiting for!
Heightened by the dark and semi-consciousness my thoughts started to overwhelm me. Eventually I just gave in, I let myself think, and I stopped being afraid of them. I must be having these thoughts for a reason, right? or.. Maybe I'm just NOT tired!? Why should I try to force myself to fall asleep? Bed times don't make much sense if you're going to spend hours laying in bed miserable. I remembered what my Mom had told me about what she would do when she couldn’t sleep. She said she would watch a James Bond movie and be out in a few minutes. I didn’t have one of those so I started watching my favorite movie – American Beauty over and over and over again. I probably should have chosen a different movie because I ended up getting to the end more times than I fell asleep.
It wasn’t until I finally realized what was missing that the itching stopped – I wasn’t writing. I started my web site itsjustlife.com as a way to keep my friends and family updated about my trip but it soon became my release. All the constant barrage of thoughts went from my head – to my fingers – and in my journals. Ahh, that was it! I also started to explore the city and use my new Olympus C5050 Digital Camera. It was the first time I had ever taken pictures of anything but myself and discovered I really really liked it! This was when and where I found a new love:
Photography; Taken on Halloween 2003 in North Sydney Australia.
On my plain trip over to Australia I remember reading through a book about Leonardo Da Vinci. It was the first time that I read that his own self portrait matched up perfectly with the Mona Lisa. I remember thinking it was interesting but not considering why he might have intended for his face to match up with a face of a woman in his painting? It didn’t make much sense, which left me with considering it just as a curious coincidence...
I spent 5 months in North Sydney. It was incredible, it made me realize that the bubble I had lived in the rest of my life was even tinnier than I had imagined. I thought, "wow this world is gigantic!" How could I ever have felt so trapped? I could go anywhere and do anything!!.. but I didn’t.
My bubble came with me - trapped inside my mind. It was on the brink of finally bursting but for some reason my face broke out with really bad acne - right after I thought I had outgrown it. That led me to taking accutane which put me in a strange depression. I flew back home early making the biggest set back of my life thus far. Accutane has been in court 5 times for people killing themselves while taking it. Being on it myself, and feeling the way I did. I hope everyone considers it carefully before taking it. A couple zits might not be worth wanting to die.
When I once had the courage to move to another country a whole world away, alone and without fear – I returned home a failure.. Right back into the bubble that my life previously held. I remember feeling almost dead inside, as if there wasn’t a point to living. I couldn’t understand why – I had been given the opportunity of a life time. Something most people never get the chance to do. Getting an education while doing something I could make a career out of, in the country I had always wanted to visit, a country I instinctually loved and loved even more after living there. I finally started to understand myself and figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I had a goal, a new passion in photography, in writing, but everything started to revert back to my thoughts of self doubt and fears. I had heard and read about the dangers of accutane and the horrible side effects but it didn’t sink in until a while later what really happened to me about half way through my trip. My acne started to go away, but my hair started to fall out. Damn. My complexion cleared, but my outlook blurred. I thought my depression was from missing home but it was really from those little pills.
I learned a lot
about myself and the world from my trip. I had a year with two
summers and gained a slight sense of independence. Although my
bubble didn’t quite burst there was a tiny seed that had been
planted deep inside my mind.. A seed of freedom.
Although I didn’t
experience what I would have liked, the experience served a hidden
purpose. I couldn’t run away from problems that were inside my head.
I had to confront them. Fear was irrelevant, fear was a facade. I
could do anything, but it took an internal confrontation. A war, a
battle, but one with myself. One that would take years to win, but
one who’s victory lasted a life time.
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