"And then--As the agonizing ache in his limbs seems unendurable--As his superbly muscled body suffers the torment of a virtually indescribable ordeal--from out of the pain--from out of the agony--comes TRIUMPH!"This is the essence of the superhero: To overcome insurmountable odds, to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, to keep fighting when all logic tells you to give up. This iconic and indelible image is courtesy of the legendary Steve Ditko from Amazing Spider-Man 33. Now, Ditko has never been one of my favorite artists but I recognize his genius and the brilliance of this sequence. This is one of those classic comic book moments that live forever. Spidey giving it his all and winning.
But what is it that makes him or anyone keep going when all seems hopeless? What makes the soldier keep fighting when the battle in lost? What makes the fireman go into that burning building when the odds say he won't be coming out? That is the true nature of heroism and determination.
But we each display some of that same doggedness and tenacity everyday. The person who goes to the job he/she hates everyday so the bills get paid. The single mother who raises her kids trying to show them a better life. So many people living lives of quiet desperation, doing all they can to keep going and looking for the brighter day. Maybe not the definition of courage or bravery but certainly heroic in their own way.
About two years after Melanie's death (why do I call it a "death".. it was murder) I began to realize something was wrong with me. I'd gone through the various stages of grief and self destructive behavior. Despite my best efforts, I was still unable to focus on anything. I was dating a girl named Terri who should have been very important to me but instead, due to our multitude of issues, was not. We had great sex and spent alot of time together but there was no commitment on my part and she could feel that. Still, she and I were on and off all through my "lost years" and I think that's a testament to how much we truly cared about each other even though we were incapable of showing it at the time. She was a good person and I should've let her know how much she helped me get through that time in my life. She gave me an anchor of sorts.
I was working in a shop and I hated it. I was very depressed and I drank every nite. Now, when I say I drank every nite, I mean I DRANK every nite. A slow night for me was about 12 beers. Yet, I never drank alone... I always had friends around. Most of my buddies were in school at the time and lived at home so, for the most part, I was the only one with my own apartment. (I had moved out of my house. I couldn't watch my mother fall to pieces so I ran... I did that alot in those days) So I worked out a schedule where at least one of my friends was with me almost every nite. On the nites I was didn't have anyone to hang out with I would see Terri. So I hardly every spent time alone, which was good because when I was alone I was a mess. Well, a mess is a bit of an understatement. I was a disaster. In fact, there was a time when I just stopped going to work and stayed up all nite and watched TV, then slept all day. I believe now that I was in a serious depression. I spent days just sitting on the floor leaning against the wall and staring at the floor. I couldn't function anymore.
And yet, in all that time...in the 5 long years that I sank deeper and deeper into a morass of my own making, I never considered suicide. Well I thought about it for about 2 seconds once. I was driving a rental car one night and I was pretty drunk and I thought about driving into a wall. But I figured, with my luck, I wouldn't die and then I'd be crippled AND I'd owe Hertz alot of money too. That was it... just one fleeting thought in all those years.
I've always wondered why. Why didn't I even think about it? Is it a genetic thing? Can you have suicidal tendencies and non-suicidal tendencies like being left handed or right handed? Or is it all environmental... how you are brought up? Nature or nurture?
After years of introspection and searching for answers through therapy, religion and other equally useless outside sources, I had come up empty. You see I never really believed in any of that. I never believed in predetermination or even the hand of fate. I've never believed that God took an active role in the lives of mankind. I believe in free choice and in making your own destiny. It took me a very long time but I finally figured it out. It was ego. It was arrogance. I truly believe that I have something to offer the world, that I was born to create a lasting work of art. I honestly believed that I didn't have the right to kill myself. That I would be letting the world down. Pretty full of myself, huh?
But my conceit probably saved my life. And it helped show me the only thing I've EVER believed in.
I believe in myself.
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