an apology in the academic sense of the word

The lights on the stage slowly turn on, one sputters a little before joining the others in lighting the place that the speaker is supposed to be.

The microphone still lies on the ground where he threw it down, cords all mangled around the post. The stool he sat on is still broken, one leg all the way at the back of the stage where he threw it.

The audience sits in expectation. Some with their arms crossed in disgust. Some bite their nails in nervousness. Others check their makeup in their handheld mirror.

The back door of the stage opens and closes, softly. From backstage he appears. Hair un-combed, unshaven, unshowered, head to the ground.

I walk up to the mic, pick it up, touch it to see if it is on. Feedback reverberates through the silent hall. I stare up into the lights, squinting my tear filled eyes to try and get perspective, clear my throat…

“Um…what can I say. Sorry?” A lady from the crowd shouts in return, “Damn right you can say that!”

I pick up the useless stool, look at it in bewilderment that I broke in a fit of hopelessness, then slowly put it back down on the stage. I look towards the lady in the back,

“Was that your stool?” She gets up and leaves in a fuss. I sit on the edge of the stage, frail, hungry, scared.
“So this is me, this is what I am. I can’t apologize for what I said, I guess I can’t even apologize that you had to hear it. But maybe I can explain…

…For a long time I have been running…running to things and from things. If I could I would run from myself, but no matter how far, or how often, or how hard I try I can’t seem to get away from me. I finally hit a wall — a real big wall. To be honest I haven’t got up yet. I am still lying on the ground staring up at the black sky. But my eyes are open, I guess that’s the first step.

A week ago I thought I had a couple problems to deal with. Throughout the weekend I found out I have a whole slew of problems that need be to taken care of. My body has been telling me that something is/was wrong with me for a long time. In the past I have interpreted it as God: the feeling to move here or there, to go after this or that. But really, it was God or my body or both telling me that we got some problems.

I need to get help with a couple things. And now I have to decide where the best place to be to get that help is. I don’t want to go into details because this is a blog on the world wide web and Rosario Dawson might happen to read it and it would totally blow my chances with her. Oh what the hell. I have to get some help for possible depression/anxiety that I think has been almost controlling me for a long time (some of you are like “no duh dumbass”). A lot of what I am feeling all the time is stuff I can’t control. So there are things I need to do to get better, to get my life on track, and to have a healthy future. I am still pissed at God to be honest. I wish it didn’t have to happen the way it did…for a lot reasons. I still feel terrible. It still hurts a ton, but I can see a purpose for it. And even though it makes me want to cry just thinking about trying to go through this stuff and what it cost to get here, I can at least see a little of what this might be for.

I stayed with a good friend named Elliot this weekend. We were talking about God, life, everything, when I finally put my finger on what I am so scared about. About what hurts so much. I was in the midst of physically feeling terrible as I waited for a phone call, a feeling that I can’t control, and thinking about why God was putting me through all this — if in fact he is. I told him that a lot people always tell me that God has great plans for me, that they can see it, know it. I told him that if this is what it takes to follow God, I don’t want to.

I am still scared. I still don’t want to trust Him, I still don’t want to follow or even believe in Him. But I still know that He is the only way out.

I want to thank the person that started this for me, without her honesty and courage it may have been a long time before I dealt with this. It hurts so much to say, but thank you…

~ by kevinthomas on November 9, 2005.