If you only read RobZerrvations casually and don’t really know me personally, beyond what I write here, I probably come across as being a pretty open guy. Sure, I write about my failed relationships, historic meltdowns, miscues and shortcomings, but there’s a lot more that is never said and probably never will be.
My head is filled with doors. Thousands of them. Some of them are so open I’ve taken off the door at the hinges, just so it’s easier to get in when I want to. But other doors remain closed. And believe me, you couldn’t pry them open with a crowbar and a mallet.
Sure, there are keys around here somewhere that could probably open them. I know over the years I could have marked each one so that I could open any door I wanted to. Instead, I opted to throw them all into a single drawer, co-mingled into a mass that can never be sorted out, at least not without a lot of help from a locksmith (therapist).
I guess there are always those places in your heart and brain that you lock up and throw away the key. While I like to visit the good times and occasionally venture into those things that may have hurt me some or didn’t turn out as planned, there are others that will never see the light of day, locked away, but unfortunately, not forgotten.
If you have read many of these columns, then you probably have to wonder to yourself, what could he ever hide that’s worse than a few tawdry affairs, being homeless, giving up everything for love gone wrong, alienating friends and family and having to start over in your mid 50s all over again.
I wish I could say. As I said, the doors are locked. I know they are there. I occasionally come across a distant memory of one thing or another. I will catch myself thinking, oh yeah, I think I remember that, but without the key, or even knowing which door it is, that’s about as far as I go.
My defense system kicks in and rather than descend deeper into the well, I skip like a rock on its surface, using my finely tuned sense of humor to turn hell into heaven. You might even catch a glimpse of these sad truths on Facebook or even a RobZerrvation now and again.
I will post something that seems ludicrous, that may actually hide some of the truth that hides behind a door. I’m not even sure anyone closest to me knows what is hidden there. I’m not even sure myself most times.
And yet, I can feel the pain and uneasiness that lurks there. It’s as if I can walk down these halls, lined with doors for as far as I can see, and hear the voices behind them, calling. If I were to picture it, it would be like walking through an insane asylum, where everyone locked away in the padded rooms are saying all sorts of things that sound crazy to you, but may be perfectly normal if you ever actually opened a door, listened, and found its context.
I could go there, perhaps. But I would be afraid of where it would take me. There have been times that I have been in a very dark place. I spent at least one whole year in a deep depression once, unable to find a way out. It’s one of the few times I ever actually opened any of these doors and it almost drove me mad.
I heard that can happen. That if you’re relatively sane and thrown in a psychiatric ward, that you will eventually become nuts too. That’s why it’s better that I don’t know which key unlocks a door. Sure, I can rummage around in the drawer and perhaps even find a key that I like. But finding the door, a fool’s errand thankfully.
I guess we all have such a place in our heads. A place we don’t like to go, or perhaps like me, places I will never go. We all struggle with our demons, we are all products of our past and even though it’s easy to say that your baggage fits neatly in a carry on, we all know that’s just a bunch of B.S.
Why? Because that’s just the stuff we actually carry around with us on a day to day basis. The other stuff has been left in storage, behind those doors. We don’t necessarily take it with us into the next phase of our life – the next relationship, the next job, the next city we move to – but we always have it with us. Only an idiot would think that they don’t have any unresolved issues or correspondingly dark places after 50 some years on this rock.
If you think I’m in a bad place right now, not to worry. I am writing this with a broad smile on my face. I used to think all this was a big deal in my life. That someday I would have to finally get around to opening these doors and addressing the issues that lie behind them.
But I don’t. Quite frankly, I just don’t have time to explore all the bullshit it would bring up. Yes, I stumble every once in a while on a secret I thought was safely locked away. In my youth, I would take the time to unlock it and revel in it, for what purpose I cannot say. Not anymore. There is that old saying that “some things are better left unsaid.” Well, I think “some things are better left unexplored” as well.
Yes, I’ve finally put away the helmet with the shiny light on the front. The days of spelunking through my cave of a brain are largely over. The curiosity is gone, the mysteries will remain. And I’m good with that. As a bonus, I no longer have to worry about being trapped in a horrific cave in, surrounded by all those demons.
In the Emerald City, trying to fit just a couple more keys on that ginormous keyring I bought at Wal-Mart,
– Robb