September 5 is my birthday, I'm 63 years old.
Despite all of the preceding, I have never doubted that I would reach and then surpass this milestone. In fact, I plan to surpass it significantly in the coming years. However, lately, as I have been going over certain things in my mind, I ask myself this question: Am I still the same person, or am I a new version of myself, like Fredd 2.0? It doesn't obsess me or worry me, but it's one of those questions that quietly matures in the back of your mind and pops up on a regular basis, allowing you to measure how far they've come.
Paradox(es)
During the battle to overcome illness, you mobilize all your resources, go through various trials, and discover a lot about things, people, and yourself. It changes you, shifts your perspective, opens up new horizons, and closes certain chapters of your life. But paradoxically, it was the original Fredd who, with help, luck, motivation, and his strengths and weaknesses at the time, managed to ride out the storm and gradually get back on his feet. And now, along the way, this Fredd 1.0, through what he has endured, learned, seen, felt, understood, and gone through, has gradually transformed into someone else, little by little, a Fredd 1.1, so to speak.
When you look back, as I have been doing for some time now, considering recent events as distant ones, brief moments as long period of time, you realize that you have changed profoundly but that, fundamentally, you have remained the same, only more serene.
More angry too. More serene because you inevitably put things into perspective, you “reprioritize” (does that sound like corporate jargon or is it just me?) and inevitably the latest iPhone, the latest social media controversy, or the hype of the moment, when you know you might die sooner than expected... You gently put that aside and you couldn't care less. More angry too, firstly because of a few meds, but mainly because you need to get to the point more directly, without beating around the bush. This means that you can appear both cooler and sped up at the same time.
The brain is a powerful machine, an insanely amazing thing!
The guy who isn't there
In any case, I'll have learned at least one thing: how to be the guy who isn't there. You may have experienced this during a conversation: someone asks you a question, you start to answer, and at some point, you feel that your answer no longer interests the other person, either because it disappoints them or because they only asked the question out of politeness and didn't really care about the answer. You can tell because their eyes glaze over, they're no longer here, they're thinking about something else. I've learned to do this on command.
At first, of course, it was due to the treatment: I couldn't always focus or pay attention, mainly because I was tired, and the eye/brain trio disconnected me from the front line. You're still there, but you've taken a step back. It requires less effort; it's an automatic switch that protects you: you no longer have to process all the information that comes your way. It gives you a break. This is accompanied by a physical change in the focus of the eye, which can be perceived both from the outside (a vacant stare) and from the inside (a bit like looking through a window). It's this physical switch of the eye that I've learned to reproduce on command. It's very useful. You arrive somewhere and there are lots of people? You're tired? Switch! Those who pass you by feel that you're not available. No need to talk, pull a face or look angry. Switch! And that's it.
It's pretty quick to “master” because it's all about “body memory.” It remembers and copies the position your eyes were in when you were super tired. When I was able to trigger it, I went to see what it looked like in the mirror and realized how much I must have looked like a zombie from February to May. The big difference between this switch and an aggressive or hostile look is that it's mainly defensive. Before, I knew how to show that I wasn't available or that I didn't want to engage in conversation with someone, but it could come across as disdain or arrogance. The switch is simple: the person sees and sensing that you're not quite there, they don't insist but they don't receive any signs of disrespect, they're just slightly unsettled for a split second. Don't overuse it; it should remain a defense, a last resort to avoid being overwhelmed by a mass of information that you are unable to process calmly.
So even an old dog can learn new tricks. Right?
