There are two types of suffering.
Firstly, you have the suffering that comes with a reward. You know the type. You're halfway up a 14er and your legs and lungs are burning something fierce, above treeline and the sun is baking you into oblivion, the scree and talus are loose as shit and you're losing your mind because you slide backwards half a step for every step forward. Then you get to the top and god damn, it was worth it. Right? It's more than just a scenic vista, it's that feeling of accomplishment, of fulfillment, and without the suffering, you just wouldn't have it. The suffering actually is the means to the end. It's the kind that makes you feel more alive.
Then there's suffering type two. The one difference is this: there is no reward. There is no fulfillment for enduring. It's just seemingly endless punishment for no real reason. And you have no choice in the matter. You just suffer, because what else can you do? You suffer or you die. Sometimes that's what survival looks like, suffering. And so you escape into whatever you can, drugs, alcohol, even your own mind. Maybe insanity will offer some reprieve if reality is just too abhorrent. There is no summit, no vista, no reward.
And that's where I'm at right now. A part of my body is actively betraying me at all times. Why? I don't know. And doctors can't or won't tell me. I've tried every type of self medication, from the most wild new agey to the most normie conventional shit. I will literally do anything to feel better. I will do anything to alleviate some of the searing pain in my insides. As if a blacksmith stuck me in the stomach with a molten hot poker. But you know what? I don't want to escape. I don't want to lose myself to drugs or alcohol or even insanity. I don't want to just survive. I want to thrive, and I'll accept nothing less. But it's hard to keep a positive attitude when there's no real end in sight.
Today, I was on the phone with my dad, and I asked him, "What if this is it? What if I never feel any better than I feel right now? What if it just gets worse from here on out?" And then it hit me, that I need to be prepared to answer those questions.
I can't stop dwelling on those thoughts. Fuck, I hope it's not true. I'm only 27 years old, and I have so many plans, so many adventures, so much life left to live... But life isn't fair and I could easily find that all of those plans have gone down the shitter, robbed from me in the blink of an eye.
So ask yourself the same questions, ask yourself what you would do if you knew your heath, your physical condition was only going to get worse. Would you sit here and stare at this fucking screen? Would you go into work and make food for assholes for 10 dollars an hour? Would you keep sacrificing today for the myth of tomorrow? Because maybe tomorrow isn't fucking coming. I know that's cliche as fuck, and I don't mean that a car is going to drive through your house and kill you in the middle of reading this. I mean that no matter how you prepare, at some point life is going to kick you in the fucking teeth. And yeah, you can prepare accordingly, you can save up money preparing for the inevitable and never take any risks, but what does that get you besides mediocrity? If there's one thing worse than death, it's mediocrity.
So here's the deal, I have a colonoscopy scheduled on Monday morning. It might be the first time in almost a year that I gain some insight into what affliction is ruining my life, which could be fucking amazing. It could also be the worst day of my life. I could receive some very very bad news on Monday. But I promise you this, whatever they say to me, I will not sacrifice what remains of this body and this mind, the only vehicle through which I've ever been able to experience this beautiful, horrible, wonderful, awful thing called life. I will die before I succumb to mediocrity. I'll go down in fucking flames doing what I love.
If I'm going to suffer, I'm going to do it on my own terms.
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