Hesitating Beauty Joshua Lutz

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Joshua Lutz

Schilt

Publishing


Joshua Lutz

Schilt

Publishing


Holding so tightly onto what I believed was sanity while consumed by fear of depression and schizophrenia prevented me from being fully present to her reality. She slowly slipped away from the aggressive paranoia witnessed in my youth to an almost calming form of delusion. As a young boy, I watched her search for the right pattern of numbers on license plates and unscrew the phones to look for recording devices at night. It was exciting to think that we were more important than everyone else; that we were on a mission. That excitement was displaced by tremendous anger and panic, as thoughts that I too could end up like her began to take form. These debilitating emotions eventually dissolved into empathy and compassion as the possibility of losing myself receded and I opened up to her reality without the fear of contagion. Looking back on the family archive for clues to understanding, my role in shaping that story began to evolve from my memory of how it exists into an overwhelming need to change it. Falling deeper into the psychosis, I imagined a time when the past, present, and future collided; a place where the weight of those memories is heavier than reality.

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Holding so tightly onto what I believed was sanity while consumed by fear of depression and schizophrenia prevented me from being fully present to her reality. She slowly slipped away from the aggressive paranoia witnessed in my youth to an almost calming form of delusion. As a young boy, I watched her search for the right pattern of numbers on license plates and unscrew the phones to look for recording devices at night. It was exciting to think that we were more important than everyone else; that we were on a mission. That excitement was displaced by tremendous anger and panic, as thoughts that I too could end up like her began to take form. These debilitating emotions eventually dissolved into empathy and compassion as the possibility of losing myself receded and I opened up to her reality without the fear of contagion. Looking back on the family archive for clues to understanding, my role in shaping that story began to evolve from my memory of how it exists into an overwhelming need to change it. Falling deeper into the psychosis, I imagined a time when the past, present, and future collided; a place where the weight of those memories is heavier than reality.

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Holding so tightly onto what I believed was sanity while consumed by fear of depression and schizophrenia prevented me from being fully present to her reality. She slowly slipped away from the aggressive paranoia witnessed in my youth to an almost calming form of delusion. As a young boy, I watched her search for the right pattern of numbers on license plates and unscrew the phones to look for recording devices at night. It was exciting to think that we were more important than everyone else; that we were on a mission. That excitement was displaced by tremendous anger and panic, as thoughts that I too could end up like her began to take form. These debilitating emotions eventually dissolved into empathy and compassion as the possibility of losing myself receded and I opened up to her reality without the fear of contagion. Looking back on the family archive for clues to understanding, my role in shaping that story began to collide with the memory of how it exists and an overwhelming need to change it. Falling deeper into the psychosis, I imagined a time when the past, present, and future collided; a place where the weight of those memories is heavier than reality.

8


Holding so tightly onto what I believed was sanity while consumed by fear of depression and schizophrenia prevented me from being fully present to her reality. She slowly slipped away from the aggressive paranoia witnessed in my youth to an almost calming form of delusion. As a young boy, I watched her search for the right pattern of numbers on license plates and unscrew the phones to look for recording devices at night. It was exciting to think that we were more important than everyone else; that we were on a mission. That excitement was displaced by tremendous anger and panic, as thoughts that I too could end up like her began to take form. These debilitating emotions eventually dissolved into empathy and compassion as the possibility of losing myself receded and I opened up to her reality without the fear of contagion. Looking back on the family archive for clues to understanding, my role in shaping that story began to collide with the memory of how it exists and an overwhelming need to change it. Falling deeper into the psychosis, I imagined a time when the past, present, and future collided; a place where the weight of those memories is heavier than reality.

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