Comedian Dana Gould said that phrase and it made me laugh. And it made me think.
I’ve had a number of personal apocalypse experiences. The most recent and lingering was about 2 years ago. A perfect storm hollowed me out.
I imagined myself an eight-year old girl, small skinny and dark, lying on the cold ground with no coat in the mud. I’d been kicked, beaten and starved, but I imagined I laughed. Maniacal laughter, but victorious.
You think you got me? I am not done yet. I am going to triumph. It’s what I do.
That was my imagination. It takes a lot of work and time to triumph.
I staggered on. I got up and staggered. and I kept staggering.
And the pages fell from the calendar. Eventually I noticed that that days were not triumphant. I thought, “I need to not focus on the negative. I should cherish the happy moments.” So I looked for the happy moments, for cherishing purposes.
They took a long time to come. After a few weeks, I wrote
on the calendar in red letters. Because that day I had felt happy once on that day. And I wanted to remember it, and see how long it was until the next time.
During this apocalypse, I gave up this blog. I ask you, how am I supposed to survive an apocalypse if I can’t blog it? Not a good disaster recovery plan. I think I could have recovered faster if I’d stuck it out.
I kept reading. Because i always keep reading. But instead of fiction books that tell true things about the human experience, I had to run for cover. I had to KNOW that human would win over adversity.
I needed a hero.
Dragons, magic, forces of good and evil and
No losing. Winning. Always. Never any doubt.
Because in my life there was doubt. And doubt is for the losers when the apocalypse comes.
I needed to be sure. So I found the books that were. And I didn’t stop reading them. Fortunately, there seem to be enough of us needing that reassuring to keep them in circulation.
I don’t usually try to be escapist. But this was an emergency. Dive into fantasy worlds and don’t come out. And naps were important. Whenever possible. Because I needed to reconnect the broken bits, and rest was required.
It took so long, but I have strung together a chain of happy days. I can feel them regularly, pretty much back to touching happy at least every day.
I owe that to my friends who kept in touch and talked and talked and talked and talked with me.
But I haven’t hit triumph yet.
I look at that two-years past imaginary me, muddy and bruised and crying and laughing in the face of the persecuters. I think, it wasn’t easy. I didn’t think it would take this long. And I’m still walking.
At least I’m not staggering. But I want the story to tie up into a triumph bow.
Let’s get to the triumphant part.