It’s October and it’s scary season and this time I’m more scared than ever as my life is as unstable as it’s ever been…I’ll face any guy in a hockey mask over the crushing reality of how little I have presently, any moaning spirit over my broken one, and any blood thirsty vampire over the ones in my mind filling me with fear and sometimes draining me of joy.
Since late 2019 everything has been one situation after another and now is no different, more people seem unavailable so I feel lonely, my body and my circumstances close more and more doors and my mental health seems very sketchy at best on my worst days.
On my best days I’m mostly wearing a mask and it’s not for free candy although it definitely is a trick so no one sees how scared I am and how many rocks are in my treat bag.
The monster has even invaded this column the last two months, but I find it hard to write about anything else…partly as it is for obvious reasons on my mind constantly and also because I feel if I had to write with the mask on too, I would feel like I’m being suffocated of my ‘voice.’
Because this situation involves many differences to my old life from before that stupid virus.
Prior I complained if I’m honest, a very real case of ‘never know what you have until it’s gone,’ but that too would have seemed chaos in some respects…it’s just that old chaos was actually pretty calm compared to today’s situation.
Still I had some steady income, the world was not on fire and at each other’s throats, situations were ripe with the most important commodity there is…time.
Time is the scariest thing to lose, more than any Halloween haunt, as it is the thing you can never get back, there are no second chances, that is true horror and one almost everyone hears knocking about in the attic in the middle of the night.
My living situation is very precarious so I have to constantly watch how I handle situations in case I wear out my welcome, even if I feel like I have no space and nowhere to get away from everyone and take that mask off I cannot express it, lest I be told I’m being entitled or ungrateful.
Because I am grateful I’m not in the streets today…I am.
Grateful for those who put full size candy bars in my bag when I needed them most, those that gave me funds when I would have nothing…I’m so grateful.
But I swear there are times I cannot breathe.
I’m being chased through the woods for sure but the axe wielding madman is reality and time, security and loss.
Intelligence and faith are still my guides, I won’t go into the dark basement where the killer is hiding, but I’m also not quite sure where he is…he could be anywhere, which choice is the right one, which leads to a trick and which leads to a treat?
Either way, have to pick a house and ring the bell.
