Delusion (n.) – an idiosyncratic belief or impression that is firmly maintained despite being contradicted by what is generally accepted as reality or rational argument, typically a symptom of mental disorder.
As of right now, I have roughly $160 in my bank account. As of this week, I’ve spoken with two debt collectors and one school loans rep who want all of that $160 and then some–a sum of roughly $60,000. Not to mention Uncle Sam, who wants his slices of my delectable 401k and Roth IRA pies that I devoured last year. (Hey, I was hungry.)
My book sales, which I billed as my bread and butter, have left me with crumbs and margarine. My screenwriting, which I billed as my stairway to
heaven HBO, left me rejected and my computer frozen. And just as stagnant as that computer screen are my feet, which have been pigeon-holed in Daytona Beach – and my parents’ house – for six, long months.
– In two weeks, I will be traveling back to my beloved Maui to soak up and in the Aloha spirit.
– In three weeks, I will be traveling to Japan to soak up and in the wisdom of transformative leaders from around the world.
– And in five weeks, I’m scheduled to return to exactly where I started, but let’s not kill my buzz…m’kay?
Question: How can someone in my financial shoes afford to walk such a pricey path?
Answer: Delusion…and a scholarship.
There are many opinions and perceptions of me. There are much fewer truths. Whichever type of Stephanie-knowledge that you hold, however, I think it’s true that the word delusional threads through it all. You know why? Because it is true. One of those few, rare truths about me is that I am truly delusional.
Well, maybe not “truly delusional.” Unlike my 17th century counterpart, Don Quixote, I am, after all, aware of my condition.
My condition being that even though I can feel my financial dragons breathing fiery collection calls and payment notices down my neck, and I can see the seemingly impenetrable walls of my childhood bedroom closing in on me, and I can read the minds of people who think, “I thought you’d be somebody by now,” my soul still compels me onward.
Onward to a place with more questions than answers. A place that I’ve never seen before outside of TV and JPEGs. A place that beckons me “to become a knight-errant, and sally forth into the world in search of adventures; to mount a crusade; to raise up the weak and those in need.”
I am Stephanie Rochelle Redd! The Woman of Daytona!
I come in a world of bullshit to make a world of awesomeness.
And the mission of this knight, my duty – nay – my privilege is…
To dream the impossible fucking dream.
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