I Am a Shapeshifter

Like a Phantom Limb

The true life of someone, not something, like me is one capable of at least a tolerable level of normality. We may not fit the perfect conception of "normal", but then it is merely a culturally-relative, ideal image of what a person should be, not a mold for us to shape ourselves. We are individuals with individual motivations, and so we will differ. The point is to be able to function as societies and as a global environment. To be as I am, I find, does not make such "function" difficult. If anything, I find myself in greater harmony with my world than others seem to be with theirs. But what level of normality I meet or to what extent I do function in society is not why I write this now. I write this because I am chasing some part of me I cannot find, and yet have not lost. Believe what you want; I know who and what I am. I have accepted myself. My own mind forced me forward, and I found my footing (with some help). I have made it to a point of great self-understanding, but I find that I am missing some great piece of me. It is a physical nature that I have not experienced and a psychological and emotional wholeness I have yet to feel. This is not some "other side" of me, but a part of the full being that I am. It is something I want, but do not know how to access. It is something I could live without, and yet the lack of it haunts me and makes me cry out of some sick combination of sadness and anger. I find it, although I have not experienced this specifically, like a phantom limb. I feel it there, within my reach as a part of me. People may tell me it is not there, but I can feel it. I cannot prove it, but it is there, at least to some extent. It is some way of existing that I do not know. It is like learning to walk or speak a human language, but no one was there to teach me. All of these similes I could list, but no short list or abundance of words could take away this restraint I feel. I do not feel insufficient, but sufficient to an extent. It is not something I cannot have, but I am reaching through the bars of a cage into darkness, hoping I can reach it and hoping that I could even find it in the dark. I know some who feel this feeling, or at least something like it. I imagine there are many others who know it, perhaps to intolerable extents. To you, if you are such a person, I wish you luck in your ventures. Let knowledge be a candle in the dark for you, and know that you will need one hand to hold it and another to find what you seek. If you are like me, then you will ask yourself sometimes whether looking is even worth it; whether the effort is all for something entirely beyond your reach. You cannot believe this. If you function in society, if you contribute and you give yourself a good life as the who and the what that you are, then you can afford to reach for the stars. The limitations of possibility are the invented walls of your perception. An open mind will break down those walls, and a strong mind will not fall out once it has been opened. I seek this thing like a phantom limb. Will I find it? I do not know. Will I stop looking for it? I cannot, and I will not.