“Impeccability is to act to the very best of your ability upon whatever knowledge happens to be available to you at any given moment.” ~ Théun Mares
“Curious that we spend more time congratulating people who have succeeded than encouraging people who have not.” ~ Neil deGrasse Tyson
“The ninety degree shift does not cancel the effects of old age upon the physical body, but it does enable warriors to retain control of all their faculties, their knowledge, sobriety, and power, right up to and even beyond the moment of physical death. This is every warrior’s reward for having been willing to fight impeccably right up until the final breath.” ~ Théun Mares
A few days ago a friend asked me to consider if, maybe, one can be addicted to fear, and I was like “Ha! I think not”. No, I didn’t actually say that, but I could have. It was not an oversight; I am capable of at least some decorum. So, what about PTSD? Just askin’. I’ve no answer, of course. This is one of those questions – ar least for me – that are best pondered, not answered. But don’t think about it too much, lest it becomes ponderous. I did give it some thought, and intuition, and still came up nebulous, diffuse, whatever – but here’s the thing, my friends: my heart tells me no, it is not possible to be addicted to fear, even if only because fear is a natural, innate part of our tools as a species. For me it is a ground state – this thing called fear. Ground state is a term lifted from quantum physics, so I run the risk of being all trendy and stuff by using pop-science in the attempt to describe something so profound. That’s why I said “for me”. Here is a definition of “ground state”, from Wikipedia: “The ground state of a quantum-mechanical system is its lowest-energy-state; the energy of the ground state is known as the zero-point energy of the system. An excited state is any state with energy greater than the ground state. In the quantum field theory, the ground state is usually called the vacuum state or the vacuum“. I’m afraid (!) this may be hard to wrap your head around, but it excites me. See, I have PTSD – I’ve lived with abiding fear since February, 3rd, 1984, long about sunset. And I’ve had bipolar type 2 disorder since that very same day. This disorder manifests primarily as depression, and there is no true mania, only hypomania, which differs from mania . . . well, hypomania is . . . oh, never mind; you don’t get the high that comes with mania. And there is no friggin euphoria involved. Yet both are excited states. Excitement is what lifts me up from a ground state, up where both depression and hypomania emerge, nearly demonic in their terrier-like existence. And fear? As a ground state it just kinda sits there like a lump, being the lowest of the low. So, fear cannot be addictive because it is a function of our primate survival instinct as a species. It is natural, in a nearly delicious sort of way. Without fear there could be no courage. And courage is a driving force in life – so why isn’t fear a driving force? Me thinks it is; it is a driving force; it is what it is, so don’t even try it, k? Don’t get all plucky with me, dude. I feel, in my heart, that addiction need not be proffered as an answer for every friggin thing that makes it audaciously difficult for you to simply shake it off. Click on those underlined words if you wanna listen to Taylor Swift for four minutes. I recommend it – the woman’s got the groove goin’. Alas, parting is such sweet sorrow, yet I must go to the diner for a bite, then on to the laundromat. And sorrow is not depression. Sorrow is to depression as the common cold is to cancer. Sorry about that momentary non sequitur. Fear made me do it – fear that I have not adequately explained myself here. If you are one of those types who profess to have conquered and disposed of fear, don’t go shaking off your Shadow around me. I like to shake it off – don’t get me wrong – but your shadow is yours. I’ve got one of my own. And, besides, Taylor Swift makes me happy, in more ways than one. Capiche? Yeh, buddy.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.