LIVE!

I was sifting through some old photos this evening.  An eclectic compilation of random moments of my life through high school graduation.  I found this little gem hiding among all of the other photos.  This caricature was done at my high school’s project graduation over 15 years ago (crap - I don't remember getting old, when did that happen?).  Now, let’s ignore for a moment the fact that this looks absolutely nothing like me, the fact that my neck is as long as my arm (I must have had some sort of freakish giraffe neck in high school), I evidently only had one arm that night, and I’m apparently having some kind of bow-legged hoedown.  And while I know that the “LIVE” written on there is referring to musical performance (hence the crappy-ass looking clarinet being held by what appears to be an extension of my neck), after all I have been struggling with this year, it felt in a strange way like my 17 year-old self looking me in the face and screaming at me to pick up the pieces of my life and just live.  

It reminded me a little bit of the chapter in Hyperbole and a Half: Unfortunate Situations, Flowed Coping Mechanisms, Mayhem, and Other Things That Happened where she talked about writing a letter to her 25 year-old self when she was 10 years old.  Of course, the fact that she wrote the note for her future self is pretty much where the similarities ended, though I probably would have had similar concerns - dogs, dogs, dogs, food, lifespan of parents...in that order.  

Anyway, I'm not entirely sure why it felt so profound, but it did.  Maybe it was delirium from exhaustion and the migraines from hell.  Maybe it was just being so desperate for any kind of encouragement.  I really can't say.  I've never felt as completely broken as I have this year.  Still struggling with random fevers, 100% pure exhaustion, migraines from hell and "drunken sailor" dizziness.  Still struggling with anxiety and the added bonus of random panic attacks.  Still struggling with depression - agonizing, soul-crushing, unbelievably difficult depression.   Still standing at the edge of a cliff, freaking out at every little breeze that blows my way.  

It's been such a difficult few months - more difficult than anyone realizes - and I have often struggled making it from one day to the next.  I've spent so much time lately just barely surviving - I'll take any reminder I can get to try to focus on living, even if it's in the form of a ridiculously inaccurate caricature that makes me look like I've spent the last 3.5 years riding a horse...non-stop (it makes me sad that the only accurate part of the caricature is the horribly enormous nose).  I guess beggars can't be choosers.  But there's got to be more to life than just surviving.  

So I guess there's nothing left to do but take my own advice and just live, even when living is the absolute hardest choice to make.