EVANESCENCE
Mediocrity Scale
by Gwyn Ann Aldip
Dear Ms. Biss,
I call dibs with the mean. Does that indicate that I am really not in pain?
I dread the idea of getting sick. One important thing to get there is actually acknowledging that I am not okay. Only, this notion must surpass the shell of safety and mediocrity that I would normally choose to have. Outside this utopian perception is a whole world of either beration or appreciation for one’s guts to weakness.
I admit, submitting to the concept of pain present in myself equates to allowing the sense of vulnerability that one always tries to avoid in them. It is that kind of memory or experience that you refuse to recognize.
The scale doesn’t have the power to be the final jury in declaring that my pain is normal. Right in the middle, where it is safe to assume that I am fine, is quite the programming that my
mind needs to be running on.
Pain hurts as it is, but what makes it worse is succumbing to its reality. The middle’s strong hold deviates my pain from getting dragged to either ends—places where it may only be greatly acknowledged or gravely ridiculed. This comfortability pulls away from more hurt that may come from getting dictated or reprimanded of how it should actually be.
My conception and tolerance may be different than yours. I guess it would be the safest to say that I am either okay or not. Your choice. As long as I remain neither in pain or just pretending to be experiencing one.
I may be fine. I may not be. You don’t have to know it from me.