There I was sitting in what seemed like a college course on the verge of failing yet again. It was some sort of critical writing course and I was behind in some unspecified way. The teacher seemed to shift between two of the teachers I've admired most in my life so I wasn't just failing. I was failing them personally which counts for more in the honor system I adopted over the years. It replaced pleasing my parents as the measuring stick when pleasing them became impossible. As these admired teachers did on occasion, the class incorporated both the conventional and the contemporary. We were given a final assignment involving a paper on the Harry Potter books from a scholarly perspective and we were expected to incorporate elements of the movie about the last book. (Obviously, my brain decided to overlook the fact that the final book was divided in two for movie purposes.) In typical nightmarish fashion, the entire paper was due the next day despite the fact that it required scoring tickets to a midnight showing of the movie.
Normally, this is when dream me starts squealing like a pig, considering suicide as a top option and dreading my parents above all else. Oddly enough, my brain just went into overdrive this time. I found myself comparing the original "Star Wars" trilogy with the Harry Potter books and found the compare/contrast topic that I wanted to use. Along with the scholarly materials I wouldn't have had time to find, this would have been my college strategy for writing a paper. I have thought of the original "Star Wars" trilogy as "The Redemption of Anakin Skywalker" for years. Make that decades. The Harry Potter books could have been seen as "The Redemption of Severus Snape" in a fairly similar way. We have our compare and contrast topic.
There is a scene in the next to last book where Rowling does an expert job of both setting the hook to convince us that Snape has been nothing more than a traitor yet leaves herself plenty of room to write her way out of it. Harry catches up to the retreating Death Eaters who have just killed Dumbledore and Snape lags behind to deal with him personally. At that moment, Snape does a masterful job of defending himself yet avoids killing (for good reason) or capturing Harry. In fact, Snape seems to be delivering his final lesson in the subject of how it is all but impossible to fight someone who can anticipate your every move flawlessly.
You can compare that to the Luke/Vader duel in "The Empire Strikes Back." Vader is so superior with the lightsaber and general use of the Force that he might have killed Luke at any moment. Director Spielberg does a great job of making sure that, each time Vader withholds a blow, it seems to serve the ultimate purpose of the Dark Side. Even Vader's declaration of twisted fatherly love seems more likely to serve a Dark Side plot. Then Vader withholds the death blow even after delivering this final ultimatum and having it refused.
Similarly, the seemingly cruel Dumbledore/Snape strategy of withholding crucial information from Harry Potter makes perfect sense in the world where Voldemort can read the mind of all but the most talented, bravest and most experienced wizards. In the end of Half Blood Prince, Snape holds himself back from killing Harry because it's the one action that serves both masters (Dumbledore and Voldemort) equally. Harry must be able to do something completely unexpected against Voldemort without knowing exactly how it will help him reach ultimate victory.
The paper was nearly written in my head before the class and dream ended. Of course, this isn't a literary blog so I am coming to a point though not without the help of one Stephen Reeder Donaldson. Donaldson's best known character, Thomas Covenant, escapes the fate of being god-like Lord Foul's tool in destroying the universe by "do[ing] something unexpected." Like me but to an exponentially greater degree, Covenant finds himself caught in traps woven largely from the consequences of his own sins. I find myself paralyzed by the urge to give up and let the world come down on my head at the precise moments when decisive actions could get me out of all trouble. Covenant is goaded by the frustration of being mocked by the nearly god-like Foul whereas I face the memories of mockery from my merely mortal father. Covenant is motivated by his loves for the Land and, later, Linden Avery.
I've been trying to fight off the feeling that my father is right about me being hopeless at dealing with the "real world" for weeks now. This nightmare is part of the healing process. In the past, I would awaken thinking about how I deserved to die. This time, I woke angry that I keep facing these dreams and repeated a mantra in my head. I graduated. I know I graduated. I could go look at my degree certificate if I chose. I received that certificate by some sort of signature required mail delivery in very early 2002. After looking at it for a moment, I called some important University office and asked/begged/demanded that the person who answered the phone look up my records for me. I needed reassurance that the ordeal was in the past and that they couldn't take it back. I was given that reassurance but I was feeling like a failure within 24 hours for needing a decade in and out of school to finish.
More than a decade has passed since that miserable night. At 28, a decade seemed like a shameful eternity that would never allow me to take pride in my work. At 40 and looking at a lifetime of pain, a decade is something far less. I can only compare it to the school year as a child. Each school year seemed impossibly long while adults tried to console me that only so many months remained. Each of those years was a significant portion of my entire time on the Earth. Now, a year can only be compared to my current lifetime by using fractions and decimal points. After I graduated, one of the most admirable role models in my life confessed to me that he or she took a decade to graduate.
So, I wrote a Facebook post about my property tax situation that might have read an awful lot like giving up. It's actually part of my survival strategy. Let's take the worst case scenario and look it in the eye. I don't mean the eventual worst case that includes failing tests I haven't even seen yet. I examine the worst case scenario until I can say that I have a practical plan for dealing with it. While I am doing that, I don't look as closely at solutions to avoid the worst case. I used to surround myself with people who had extensive experience intervening in the problems of others and they knew that my first answer is always some form of no. I have to remember that those old veterans of previous struggles have moved on. Like me, they took too many wounds or even saw their efforts make someone else's problems worse. I'm retired from being an unsolicited helper.
Two people (so far), have offered me practical solutions that I rejected like whoever the most dominant center in today's NBA might be. I have yet to thank them and note that their suggestions will be part of the eventual plan. Since I'd like to carry it out in the next 24/48 hours, it's time to move past rejecting solutions entirely and mentioning specific flaws. As usual, those specific flaws are all found within me. There is the damage from a lifetime of being told that I fail to apply myself to anything that matters. There are the specifics of my disability and my knowledge of what it is that stresses my team the most. I hate to ask people to help do things that will cause them stress.
Tempus Fugit. The attempt can be made. Extreme pain can be endured as so many of us know. I'm still recovering from a pain doc appointment with unexpected complications so there's no dodging the pain. I can't make myself numb before speaking to government officials so... Well, tempus effing fugit. (In case my translation skills are worse than I thought, I'm using it in the colloquial sense that time is passing and running out.)
Late addition: Some of you may have seen or heard me compare my father to Darth Vader over the years. The metaphor holds as he grabbed his metaphorical Imperial side and jumped into the shaft for me. My feelings are difficult to express. I feel thankful for the ultimate gesture of stepping out of my life for good. He made the right decision. It doesn't make up for a lifetime of poisoning my mind but he did do the right thing. He had backed me into a situation that I couldn't escape on my own and then went away taking the danger with him. It was the one time in my adult life when I looked at the worst case scenario and saw no way out. He both created and relieved my ultimate nightmare.
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