Paradox

I have felt for years that paradox is the perfect word for capturing the essence of life. That insight only grows stronger as I continue to accept my condition. I am awestruck that the best way for me to gain "focus" is by relaxing and letting go. It stuns me that one of my greatest strengths, the ability to lead with authority and levity, is also a huge flaw. I often alienate people who find me overconfident. Or worse, I silence great ideas because I speak with such conviction that others don't want to challenge my approach. The longer I live, the more paradox confronts me on a daily (or even hourly) basis. With that, you would think I might realize the paradoxical nature of narcolepsy as soon as I was diagnosed.

I did not. My recent foray into reflection has helped me to see that this disease might be the biggest paradox yet. Simply at the surface, this condition is perfect in its nonsensical duality. Narcoleptics don't sleep well, resulting in extreme fatigue during the day. How freaky is that! Why is narcolepsy hard? Imagine this conversation.

Friend: Why are you tired?
Narcoleptic: I don't sleep well.
Friend: Why not?
Narcoleptic: I have narcolepsy.
Friend: Where you can fall asleep during the day?
Narcoleptic: Yes.
Friend: Then, you should get more sleep at night.
Narcoleptic: I can't. I don't sleep well.
Friend: Why not?

The insanity is that a narcoleptic NEVER sleeps well - night, day, naps, ever. I don't know how well I sleep these days, and I take a drug to knock me out at night. I don't expect others to "get" it because I barely do. Doctors certainly have no idea about the "why." Still, how funny is it that a person who is constantly sleepy does not sleep well? That is paradox.

For me, though, the paradox of this disease runs much deeper. I have spent my life in a constant state of fear. In my first therapy session with my current psychologist, she asked me to list my "worries." Literally, fifteen things came out of my mouth in a ten second burst. Her eyes grew huge before she composed herself. My immediate thought was, "that's not normal?" Apparently, it's not. People regularly remark that I seem so much calmer than I did when I was younger. Some of that is the result of years of therapy, formally and informally. But, it is also the narcolepsy. One of the biggest ironies (and in my mind, paradoxes) is that I think my narcolepsy has been at the core of many of my fears, but I would never have realized that without the condition slowing me down.

My whole life, I have earnestly believed the axiom that "ideal hands are the devil's plaything." In college I actually budgeted my time in 15 minute intervals, and I tried to stick to that schedule. Even now, I worry daily that I am not doing enough. The reality, of course, is that I am doing what I can, when I can. That is all any of us ever do. How worrying would ever assist me in getting more done is a complete mystery, and yet I fret all the time. Again, the weird situation is that without this narcolepsy, I would still be trying to push myself beyond any limit that I might see. And, I do think that the natural slowing of my body as the narcolepsy progressed is exactly what made me push harder. Some sub-conscious element of my brain recognized that my health was beginning to wane. Thus, I threw myself time and again into overdrive. I refused to allow myself the chance to let down. Now, I doubt that I could summon such a reserve for even a day, but even as I typed that part of me knows that I could - for a day or so. Then, I would pay for a week, or more.

Narcolepsy has given me a chance to remake my life. It has also completely undermined it. Paradox. This condition is one of the worst things I have ever encountered. And, it is one of the best. Paradox. The end reality, though, is that another word also applies when good and bad meet, allowing truth to settle somewhere in the middle - balance. Perhaps, that is the greatest paradox of all.