500 Words on the Mirror

500 Words on the Mirror — Blue Ink Alchemy

It can be difficult to recognize the face that looks back at me in the mirror. Especially since I've grown my hair out and started styling my facial hair in certain ways. But the eyes are still there, the eyes I've had since I was a child. They've seen a lot, perhaps more than they should have. I see them in the mirror, these mechanisms through which I see the world, and try to process who's looking back at me. Is this a person worth fighting for? Movies with Mikey's "Creed" episode draws attention to a mirror moment, where the protagonist is told by his coach (Rocky Balboa, in this case) "that, right there, is your toughest opponent." A somewhat unspoken agreement — a 'creed', if you will — between fighters is discussed. It's simple: "I fight, you fight." If you step into the ring, so will I, and we'll each give our all to prove ourselves to ourselves and to one another. (Seriously, if you're not watching Movies with Mikey, do yourself a favor and check it out.) I've started repeating that creed to myself when I see myself in the mirror. "I fight. You fight." Who or what am I fighting, though? Is it that other person, the one in the mirror? Yes and no. In the past, that person in the mirror has resembled someone else. Someone I don't recognize. Someone who had their image altered or even defined by other people. People who took advantage of me. People who devalued and discarded me. People who cast me in a role that I neither auditioned nor asked for. People who saw my weaknesses, exploited them, and spoke of me as if those weaknesses were strengths I'd cultivated for nefarious purposes. First of all, those people are fucking monsters. Moreover, their lies gave fuel to the monsters in my head that tell me I'm better off dead. That's what I'm fighting. Those voices, those monsters, those irritating head weasels. You can't see them, though. And it's very, very hard to fight what you can't see. Ask anybody who has a chronic pain disorder or a mental illness. Ask about their experiences with doctors, with society. You'll see how hard it is to fight the unseen. What we can see, though, is the person in the mirror. "I fight. You fight." The final trap in this is the one in which we fight against ourselves, not with ourselves. The difference is that in the former case, we make ourselves an antagonist, a foe to be conquered. In the latter, we become our greatest ally, and whatever the invisible or salient threat might be is one that both entities fight together. You can see what was, or you can see what could be. When you see the image of yourself in the mirror, it's entirely yours. The you in the mirror is a you that needs belief. You can fight it, or you can fight for it. "I fight. You fight." On Fridays I write 500 words.

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Blue Ink Alchemy