I haven't been sleeping well. I've certainly been more stressed out than this before. I've had worse days and weeks. So there really is no excuse for the restlessness and worry. Sure, there is plenty on my plate but I do not doubt that all will get done to the best of my ability. So what is it that is bothering me?
Well, many things. But I think I've narrowed the biggest thing down to this:
Disneyland rides.
Yes. I am anxious about Disneyland rides. (Prepare yourself for the metaphor of the century while I go get my ice cream from the freezer.)
....
Ok. I'm back. (said with spoon in mouth)
So. Let me ask you. If the life you wanted to lead were a ride at Disneyland, which one would it be?
And which one are you actually on right now?
Are you Dumbo? Riding the easy high and lows, pretending you are flying when really there is no risk or height requirement?
Are you the teacups? Spinning until you make yourself sick, going in circles, convincing yourself that it's fun and trying to make sure your friends don't see that you want to vomit?
Are you Splash Mountain? Patiently waiting for hours in a line only to have 30 seconds of an exciting drop and then realize that you are back at the bottom where you started?
Are you Space Mountain? A ride that frequently breaks down (I think I've been to Disneyland three or four times in my life and it was only working once). And when it does work, you can't see shit, riding blind, loving the speed and spectacle and yet it is over too soon.
Or are you Indiana Jones? Also a ride that broke down on me. But the constant new stimulus and fake dangers are rarely boring. It feels real until you see the mechanics behind the bushes. But no matter what, you still duck when that boulder comes rolling towards you even though you know it'll never hit you. You tell yourself you know all the illusions, but your instincts fall for them every time.
Here's my problem. I've been bouncing for years from Indiana Jones to Space Mountain to Splash Mountain. I've been envious of the people who live their lives on the Dumbo. Wishing that were enough for me. I've been standing in line watching all those lucky people with figurative "fast passes" hop in the line in front of me. I get on the teacups of life and try to hold on while that one asshole friend spins the cup faster when all I really wanna do is go to the pretzel stand and sit my butt down in the New Orleans quarter.
When I finally get on those rides, I love the highs and lows. I'm anxious and excited. And then incredibly depressed when it ends too soon. And the longer I stay in those lines, and the more I jump on those rides, the more I realize...it isn't that I've chosen the wrong rides. Maybe it's that I shouldn't choose Rides at all.
Rides are spectacles. A visually striking performance or display. But they aren't real. So many of us chase after the short term goal. We strive to ride the ride, ignoring the fact that we can see false mechanics beneath the cosmetic camouflage. That's why there is such disappointment when the ride is over. It does not fulfill our life on the grand scale. ...it doesn't matter.
Perhaps this is all too philosophical. Or ridiculous. Whatever. But what I'm trying to say-what has been keeping me up at night- is that I think I may have been at Disneyland too long. I think it's time to pack up my feelings (which are like overstimulated tantrum entitled toddlers in need of a good swat and a long nap), get back in the car, and go experience something real. Something of worth.
I have no regrets with how I spent my twenties. We've ridden many a ride, my personalities and I and bought many a souvenir. But I feel a complete change of course coming. I don't know what it is yet. But there is more out there than fake castles and painted characters. I want real castles. I want real characters. In real people. In real relationships.
Disneyland is a place to visit. Not live.
Now how do I get off this ride?
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