I wake up in the morning and I throw on some pump-up music. I go to the bathroom and drink a bunch of water. I leave the bathroom and excercise for half an hour. I shower, brush my teeth, and do my hair. I get dressed. I finally sit down at the computer with the neatly made to-do list I prepared the night before and I get to work. I start checking things off the list. I can see my progress. I go to eat lunch. I come back, sit down to get back to the list and… nothing.

What? I try to get it together. I open WordPress and try to start typing. It feels like one of those dreams where it’s so simple to just run but I can’t. I try writing a Quora answer on my phone, I focus every ounce of energy on making words appear on screen, and the two sentences are worthless. I start to become a part of my environment. My focus turns to the textures of the chair and mouse. Letters become lines and every sound makes my head jolt. When I try to type, the noise of the keys becomes the focal point. I start to fade into my thoughts and—WAIT. JACKSON. GET IT TOGETHER. 

I snap back into the real world. The first thing I do is turn on the most extreme high-energy music I can, loud. I groove and move to the music, sometimes even standing up and jumping around like a maniac. I walk over to the pull-up bar to spark some energy and as I pull up… nothing. It’s all an illusion. The music sounds like sounds and I can’t help but notice every lyric. The only reason I like the music is because I can get lost in the neverending beats. I lay down on my bed and fall into the abyss. The tiniest voice says “Jack… what ar e  y o  u  d  o i n   g.. . .. ….”

I drown for an hour. I feel as though I’m falling, but there’s no end. There’s no terror because there isn’t a ground I’ll splat on. It’s immensely peaceful and completely chaotic. I fall and fall and fall and just lay backward, allowing it to take me. I stare at the ceiling  in limbo. The person in my control room is hitting every button they can but this human they control just won’t move. Inside, the man at the command center is having a heart attack. Outside, the physical body and the mind just float, sinking deeper and deeper…

I come to after two hours. With the man at the command station back in control, I start self-loathing. “Why the hell did you let that happen? Look how much we could have accomplished today, and you sat on a bed. It’s five o’clock now and you still have this, this, and this to do.”

I get to the computer and use every ounce of strength I have to make things appear. Eventually, an idea sticks. I start writing. Words appear and they roll onto each other, word after word. I love it. As I continue, creativity fills my bones and I type faster than ever! I go and go and go and I feel unstoppable! Man, I’m getting a lot done. This feels amazing. I confidently close my laptop, head off to bed, answer a final Quora question on my phone, and doze into another world. 

Except that’s not what always happens. Sometimes the falling doesn’t stop. Sometimes, I try desperately to wrestle with it, but there’s nothing to wrestle with. I don’t have a parachute but there’s no ground anyway. I just keep going. It lasts forever. And it ends when I sleep. 

The difference between those two realities is that in one, I start creating. I do anything I can. I have to choose that option. It’s why you see what you see now. And you know what? I just realized that I’m no longer falling. I got lost in creating that I grabbed onto a branch without even knowing it was there.

This is my resistance, and this is how I battle it.

Some days, I can do it. Other days, I fail and fall into the depths of my mind. All I know is that if I can just reach my arm out and grab something, anything, I might stop falling.