Food, Clothing and Shelter

"In those stolen moments when love is caught off guard, we see it never had to be this hard." Dan Fogelberg

I know enough about the human brain to know that the way I feel is controlled by a universe of electrochemical reactions in my head.  This incredibly engine that works day and night creates more electrical current than the TVA dam a few miles from where I sit. But then again, it's not correct to say "is controlled by" when the truth is that I control this engine.  On a good day, the four happiness neurotransmitters dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin and endorphines remain available to take me in a second from any negative mental state to a place of peace. But the surrounding neurons that affect these neurotransmitters usually only fire when I pull the trigger. They accommodate whatever mood I choose to be in. In some ways it seems rather cruel that nature set it up this way.  Why doesn't this incredible biochemistry automatically run to my aid in my darkest moments? Why does my brain keep producing cortisol when I am dying for endorphins?

Unfortunately I have spent much of my life in mental distress.  Going back to childhood I can remember living with a feeling of dread and impending doom. Just a few days ago I read, "Your biggest problem is that you constantly expect bad outcomes." Ouch.

What is it in my nature that I expect bad outcomes when you would think it is just as easy to expect good outcomes?

When I look back and fast forward to today, I realize that I have always "had it easy."  I have always been surrounded by people who love me and take care of me.  I have always had good food on the table. I have always been under a good roof and had comfortable clothes.  I have always enjoyed reliable transportation. In spite of my constant stress and anxiety during my twenty-three years of formal education,  I  always made good grades. Just good outcomes.  If my life was ever actually hanging in the balance, I mean not just the "hanging" I created in my head, it was in the spring of 1972.The military was drafting to number 75. My lottery number was 52. After my physical in Montgomery, Alabama  I received in the mail the draft status of I-A, "Available for military service."  Military service was, of course,  the war in Vietnam.  Needless to say I was very concerned about that. It was a real problem.   A few weeks later I received another letter in the mail from Uncle Sam.This letter revealed my new military status of I-H, "Registrant not currently subject to processing for induction."

That is probably the only moment in my entire life that I had an actual problem. Obviously, there have been births, deaths and necessary losses that have deeply affected me, I don't want to suggest that I have not had legitimate concerns. But that was the only time my physical life was actually  hanging in the balance. One way or the other I would not have survived Vietnam.

Even as I say that the prospect of Vietnam was real, was an actual threat, my reaction was still all in my  head.  All of our brains are complex organs, but mine is more complicated than most.  All my biochemicals are totally bungled up.  The TVA dam near here has four turbines. For me it's like only one, at most, is functional. Or to use a common analogy, I'm only firing on three cylinders. My neurotransmitters are chemically and physically incapable of firing as they're supposed to.  All those happy chemicals are not always accessible to  me regardless of any mental effort on my part.

I have every reason to believe that I will live out my days surrounded by people who love me, with plenty of good food, with comfortable clothes, with a roof over my head and wheels to take me places.  It looks like except for those necessary losses, it is smooth sailing ahead. That I will always "have it easy." As Fogelberg said, "we see it never had to be this hard." But just ask Moses, just because you see it doesn't mean you get to live there.