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have you ever been on a gravitron?
it’s a theme park ride where you stand up against the wall of this huge cylinder, and when it starts to spin, your weight becomes completely supported by centrifugal force, overtaking gravity itself and pinning you to the wall of the ride. for those few moments when you are suspended by sheer force against the padded wall of the gravitron, everything suddenly feels less real.
the very force of gravity itself—the thing that has kept you tethered to the ground all your life—has been overtaken by centrifugal force three times its power through your decision to embark on this ride.
life has, lately, felt a lot like riding a gravitron. my own choices have caused me to begin to spin faster and faster through time, until my tether to reality itself has become tenuous at best. it’s difficult to put into words the feeling of my newfound independence and the impact it has had on me, but as i sit here writing this, feeling wholly untethered to the world around me, i find the most apt metaphor to be my childhood memories of being pressed gleefully against the walls of a gravitron, gravity itself in its magnanimous fashion letting go of me.
except i no longer know how to slow the ride down to be able to appreciate each moment as i take it, or more importantly, to be able to rest. to some extent, this has always been true; adhd has caused my thoughts to race at rapid pace since i was little. this feels different, however. the ability to be in complete control of my life and how i spend my time has amplified that feeling tenfold, such that even the things i have committed myself to doing—by my own choice—begin to feel like a further and further counterforce against gravity.
classes i signed up for because they bring me great joy become events i can barely connect to; parties and road trips and sunday matinees all feel far beyond reality; and even something as simple as sitting at my desk at work for 8.5 hours a day has become a seemingly futile exercise in feeling anything at all.
i wish i could wrap this up with some somber but hopeful message about how to overcome these feelings, how to take control of your life and the way you feel about it, or how to be at peace for once. instead, all i have is a crudely drawn carnival ticket torn on one edge, waiting to be handed to the attendant for just one more chance to leave gravity behind.
