Playing Yourself

I often wonder what it's like to know yourself, to be yourself. I wonder how many people are their true selves. Those few we encounter that truly represent who they really are, the person they want to be. I wonder how people are able to spend all their daily energies on life, on meaningful actions and making a difference. How many wake up with a brand new day that is full of promise and excitement.

It isn’t a fallacy. It exists. I’ve, on those fleeting passing moments, felt this self, this freedom of reality. It is a true sense of existentialism, being at peace with oneself in order to fully explore your surroundings without the ever draining weight of self doubt and worthlessness.

Some replace true happiness of the self with that of religion, accepting themselves through the eyes of a deity. An interesting avenue of obfuscation it is, but one that hides true flaws behind the protection of a higher power, foregoing responsibility of the self for that of forgiveness and repent. Side stepping potentially life affirming truths for the endless, albeit fantasy, love of the almighty and its promise of infinite happiness in the beyond.

I wonder of those people that can truly understand, love and live as themselves. I wonder of their fears and concerns. Fears of not making the most of the day. Concerns that not enough challenges can be overcome. I wonder how much more can be accomplished when you aren’t burdened with the daily task of playing yourself.

Those days when the self does come to life are highs that no drug can match. Happiness so condensed that it makes every scent a perfume and sound a symphony. And this isn’t laughing at a great joke, the tingle of love, or a success in the workplace - this is simple contentment with you. A clarity of the soul that feels so sweet that you shouldn’t have it.

Then of course, you don’t. Its gone. The resentment, loathing, and disgust all return. Growing through the holes where sunshine once poured through. Purging potential and hope, for failure and apprehension.

Sitting at the bottom of the well, watching the light fade, the cold waters swell around you. Its cold is familiar, easy. Wearing the granite smile, you can be someone else’s rock in the stream, but know that your climb back to the light is long and arduous. A pointless endeavor that will thrust your deeper back down when you fail.

Of all its joys, the sweetest fruit of the self is unlocking the door to real interaction with others. Being liberated from the oppression of the other self, the false prophet that lives on your extremes, stopping the lie to engage with everyone your care for. Those moments are the real highs, unlocking yourself for everyone to enjoy. To remember why you are you. To realise why others want to be around you. To understand that your self is one that others covet, to be one that is wondered of.

I still wonder. I still play the role. But I can still see the faint twinkle of light.

The Call

Come on, come on, let’s do this. Alright. Yes. I’ve got it. It’s just a phone call. All I need to do is call the doctor. Simple, easy, no problem. A million people do this every day. I just have to pick up the phone, search for the number and press call.

Or. You could do it later. I mean think of how many people are probably calling at this time. All those mothers calling in desperation. Little Johnny in tears, his fever growing worse by the second, and you’re stopping him from getting an appointment. All those other people who really need help and you’re calling because you feel ‘a bit off’.

Well I feel awful, more than ‘a bit off’, plus all those parents and kids are paranoid, it’s probably just a cold or not enough time outside. I’ve felt awful for weeks and done nothing about it, that’s worse. I’m doing it. Ok, searching for the doctor’s surgery and boom, that was fast. Quicker than I thought. No, that’s good. The faster it comes up the faster I can call. There’s the number, just tap that and here we are.

Wait. Stop. Don’t press the button. You need to call to make an appointment, that is true, but what of the consequences? You have no idea who’s going to answer, of who could be on the other side. Yes, it's probably going to be a receptionist at the surgery, but what if it isn’t? What if you interrupt a doctor? What if they have to come out of an appointment to speak to you? They’ll mark that down, it’ll be on your record. Think of how angry they’ll be on the phone, shouting, swearing at you. You’ll never get the appointment then.

Don’t be silly, the doctor wouldn’t answer. Even if the phone wasn’t staffed, they wouldn't come all the way out of an appointment to answer the phone. No, it’ll be a receptionist for sure. They’re always around at this time, that’s why I’m calling now instead of later. Plus if I wait any longer I won’t get one today, I’ll have to wait until tomorrow. Also, a record, seriously?

Ah, tomorrow, now that’s a good day. Tomorrow is the day of action. That’s the day to call. No need to rush around today, bothering people. Tomorrow you can get up early, make a cup of tea, relax until the surgery opens and call as early as you can. Simple, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.

No, no, no. That’s what I did yesterday and I’ve already missed the opening time by an hour. Drinking tea and then procrastinating in the shower. No, today is the day. I’m ready to go. Pop in that pin to open my phone, and yes, the number is still there.

Whoa, at least double check it first. I trust you and all, but there’s no info on that screen now, a digit could have changed or you might have even tapped on another number. You were doing it pretty fast.

Ok, ok. That’s a fair point, an easy mistake to make. Let’s pop back to maps and, yes I did hit the right one. Tapping it again and were ready to go. The call is a…

Nope. Think of your signal, of where you’re stood in the house. Yes, the call may connect here, but it’s very unlikely that you’ll even make it past “hello”, let alone through an entire call. It would be much safer to take the time to relocate upstairs first. You know, in the corner room where you get the most consistent signal. That way you can be confident in the quality of the call. Can you possibly imagine having to call not once, but multiple times, all because the signal dropped?

When you’re right, you’re right. I don’t want to waste anyone’s time, let alone make them frustrated or upset. Plus, calling multiple times? No thank you. Let’s go upstairs.

You should probably grab the washing as we’re on the way upstairs, you know, to save energy.
Nice try, but we have all day for that. I’m calling the doctor. And here we are. Let’s just settle in and fire the screen back up. That’s definitely the number and here we go.

Stop. Wait. What if it's cancer?

What?! Why on earth would it be cancer? I feel terrible, sure. But why would it possibly be cancer? That’s such a massive leap to make.

We looked last night and it certainly sounded a bit cancer like. You never know. How would you react? What would your first thought be? How would you tell your parents?

You never know? Of course I’ll never know, because I’m never going to make this call and get an appointment. And why do I need to think about my reaction or what mum and dad might feel? That’s madness, I have no idea what it is and cancer is a tiny chance.
So you aren’t calling today then.

Hey, I know what you’re doing. Clever, but not this time. I have signal, the right number, a receptionist will answer and I don’t know what I have. It’s time to call.

You could call, sure. However, when the receptionist answers, what then? What do you say? What’s your opening gambit, your spiel? You gotta have it ready to go, otherwise, you’ll be wasting their time. They have a queue of 50 people backed out the door. Phones ringing all around them and you’re there fumblingly and mumbling down the receiver. What then?

That’s enough. You can’t stop me, I’m tired of this procrastination, irrational fear, and self-doubt. I’m tired of the constant struggle to barely function the same as any right-minded person. I’m tired of me. It’s dialling.

“Hello?”