Make it so

I've never been a Trekkie, or Trekker, or whatever the chosen term is for the Star Trek fanatic.  But I occasionally enjoy watching episodes of the original show, and The Next Generation (never got around to any of the other series, though), and I liked the remake movie.  And of course there's no denying Jean-Luc Picard.

Jean-Luc Picard came to mind just now because I was wishing I could just say "Make it so" about who I am now and the feelings I have, and who I want to be instead, and how I want to feel.  I want so desperately to be normal.  Although I don't really know what "normal" means, and I'm not sure that word has ever applied to me anyway, even at the best of times.  I'm not even sure it applies to anyone at all: everyone has his quirks, his differences, his things.  At least, I hope he does.

So I suppose I need to find another word for what I want so desperately to be.  Alicia had a good word in a comment on a post from the other day: "contentment."  What I want desperately to be is contented.  Yes, happy would be good, but contented would be even better.  Calm, at peace... contented.  The definitions you get when you Google the word "contented" all boil down to "satisfied with things as they are."  I can't think of anything better than that.

I walk around feeling like there's a huge sign posted on my forehead reading "DAMAGED."  I feel pretty different from the rest of the world most of the time anyway, but now I feel as if people can just look at me and see it, as if they're thinking "Wow - damaged girl.  Not like us."  Again, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that mostly everyone feels damaged in some way or other, to some extent or other - life has a way of doing that to you if you live long enough.  But I feel like this past year has slapped me around so much that I'm not even sure what condition I'm in at the moment.  And since I can't tell, I guess that's why I feel like other people might be seeing what I can't see myself.  Damage.

The thing is, though, I've already written before that I don't want to stay this way - and last weekend showed me that I really don't want to stay this way.  Laura aptly said that the degree and kind of fun I had this past weekend was almost an "out-of-body experience," which was at times exactly how it felt - as if this was someone else's life I was suddenly leading, someone not in my body, someone whose existence hadn't been torn apart five months before.  Someone who was able to laugh and jump up and down and sing and cheer and enjoy.  And I want to be that person.  I think I may be someday (hard to believe.  Hard to believe.  Hard to believe).  Except that I feel so guilty, so much like something is very wrong, I'm not supposed to want this, I'm not supposed even to imagine it's a possibility, because this is a world without Jerry in it now.

Need to concentrate on trying to live in the moment.  He would have told me that.  Breathe.