It started off small, anyway. Easy things. Put on my workout clothes, and go for a short run. Empty the dishwasher and load the dirty stuff stacking up in the sink. Answer a day-old email, turn the TV off and go to bed. Like I said, easy.
Over time it became slightly more difficult things. 1, 2, 3, finish my taxes. 1, 2, 3, change my flat tire on the side of the road. 1, 2, 3, weave my way through a traffic jam 5 miles long. 1, 2, 3, finish my otherworldly notion template. No matter what I wanted to do, saying "1, 2, 3" beforehand made it possible. It started to scare me.
As a joke one day I sat down and told myself, "1, 2, 3, I'm gonna finish this book." A 400 page book. From the time I opened the cover I couldn't put it down. I just tore through it. I barely noticed how quickly I was going through it. When I finally read the last page, it took me a moment to realize what I had done.
I looked at my watch in horror thinking I had just blown a whole day reading, but it had only been 10 minutes. The same 10 minutes it took me to do everything else that I preceded with my "1, 2, 3." At first I thought I had just blacked out a bit and forgot what I was doing, but skimming through the pages I found myself recognizing everything I saw. I didn't skip anything.
I read the whole thing, front to back, in 10 minutes. This was the beginning of a very frightening series of events that lead me to where I am today.
Sometimes I find myself wishing I hadn't done the things I've done, despite all the good it's brought to my life. Sometimes it feels like cheating. I've done things I regret, and things I'll never forgive myself for doing.
But my heart was in the right place, so that makes up for it, right? I doubt myself, even as I say those words, but I have to try.
"1, 2, 3, bring the world to its knees."