Hyperaware

There’s a scene in House of Cards where Doug Stamper, an ex-alcoholic politician, says something profound during an AA meeting:

“The most important count I do has nothing to do with work. It’s the number of days since April 4, 1999,” he says. “As of this morning, that’s 5,185. The bigger that number gets, the more it frightens me, because I know all it takes is one drink to go back to zero.”

“I have to be ruthless with myself. I have to use my fear. It makes me stronger. Like everyone in this room, I can’t control who I am. But I can control the zero. Fuck the zero.”

My zero is my mental health, and I live in constant fear of it slipping. Some days I feel so good, so motivated, like I can achieve anything. I exert a positive force upon others, making their lives better with my zest for life.

Other days I feel immobile, like all energy has been sucked from my body. I can’t work. I can’t study. I can’t watch fifteen minutes of TV without my mind drifting elsewhere. I feel like an observer of my body’s own movements going through its habitual motions.

Today is one of those other days. All I can think about today is the future. I know my life can be incredible and fun, and everything I could ever want. But I know all too well how easy it can be to slip up.

I know I am, and always will be, my own worst enemy. That’s okay. It makes me stronger. I can’t control it, but I can do something about it. I can give myself a fighting chance. I will, because I have to.