Frankenstein’s Blindness: When You Fail To See How You’re Making It Worse

I never thought I was a crazy person. I was convinced that I was level headed and that I would act rationally in any situation. Never in a million years did I think that I would find myself looking at a series of actions and decisions that I had couldn’t find a logic to, all I had was the knowledge that they were of my creation. Victor had an intent when he created his monster, all I had was the wreckage.
Things haven’t been great for me for awhile. Nothing life shattering or impressively impactful. Just the usual suspects: Work hassles, a failed diet, a shitty catalytic converter, my phone had ran out of storage. Like I said, nothing too bad, just another case of quantity over quality. For the most part, I thought I had been handling things fairly well. I wasn’t enjoying myself but I was handling, which I always figured was the best anyone could ask for. Then a situation came to my attention. It wasn’t a new thing, in fact, there’s a part of me who was sort of happy about the situation. But the day it really came to my attention something happened.
I always thought that the term “snapped” was a little dramatic. Surely the brain isn’t so fragile that a bit of pressure could make it break into a irreparable state of splintered and fiber. So I’m hesitant to use that term, but at the same time I can’t seem to think of one that’s a better fit. Maybe it was the night, or a wild wind, or just a touch of a spell, but in that moment I had reached my limit. Suddenly, the piling annoyances had become something far more sinister, it had become something that had to be conquered. And I was going to start with the latest arrival.
The reasons for why I chose that one thing to address will most likely always escape me. There was nothing for me to do. Of all the other things that I could’ve focused on, that was the one where there was nothing I could do. Yet, I had made my decision. Then the obsession crept in.
For days I kept coming back to a handful of moments, rolling them around in my head like bones stolen from the skeleton that had been resting in a sacred tomb. When others spoke to me, instead of hearing their words I only heard the buzzing of bees that were suffocating my brain with honey. When I finally stopped to realize that my course was a dire one, I had already reached the end and behind me was nothing but mistakes.
How did it come to this? Why couldn’t I just stop? After I made one misstep and stumbled I couldn’t cease, it was just one more reckless gait after another each one supposed to fix the one before it. I had an armful of snakes that had hatched from eggs I had spit out and they were now suffocating me. Then, it was all gone. The buzzing, the snakes, the anger, the confusion, the inability to cope, it was just gone. I woke up the other morning fine with the world. Happy to be in it, even with the ongoing issues. It was as if my psyche had been wiped clean.
The relief was short lived though. The storm had passed, but the shoreline was in shambles. The fishermen and boardwalk buskers were busy rebuilding to celebrate with me.
For my own sake I will have to go on with my life, believing once again that my mind is my ally. Yet, somewhere on the horizon I’ll always be looking for the silhouette of the monster I have no explanation for.


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