My recent attempts to be a bit more proactive in planning my life have yielded an interesting unexpected result. It appears that trying to use my own My Disney Experience account in planning my part of our family vacation has unleashed a ghost version of myself that is now threatening to undo all of my carefully laid plans, steal my reservations, and wreck my family relationships.
Context: Last summer, I was at Disney World for a conference, which included a day at the park. Rather than go through the huff and puff of getting a disability pass to avoid getting trapped in lines and the medical havoc that could wreak, I opted instead to simply navigate the park with fastpasses. Doing this effectively required that I have a My Disney Experience account in order to link my conference-provided ticket and book fastpasses from my phone. So I created one. For the record, the system worked well over the course of that trip.
Fast forward to the planning for this trip. Given my historical track record with long term planning, and the notable chaos of my family’s collective schedule, it is generally my mother who takes point on the strategic end (I like to believe that I pick up the slack in tactical initiative, but that’s neither here nor there). Booking our room and acquiring our Magic Bands naturally required to put names down for each of our family members, which, evidently, spawned “ghost” accounts in the My Disney Experience system.
This is not a particularly large concern for my brother or father, both of whom are broadly nonplussed with such provincial concerns as being in the right place at the right time, at least while on vacation. For me, however, as one who has to carefully judge medication doses based on expected activity levels over the next several hours, and more generally, a perpetual worrier, being able to access and, if necessary, change my plans on the fly is rather crucial. In the case of Disney, this means having my own account rather than my “ghost” be listed for all pertinent reservations and such.
The solution is clear: I must hunt down my ghostly doppelgänger and eliminate him. The problem is that doing so would cancel all of the current reservations. So before killing my ghost, I first have to steal his reservations. As a side note: It occurs to me belatedly that this dilemma would make an interesting and worthwhile premise for a sci-fi thriller set in a dystopia where the government uses digital wearable technology to track and control its population.
All of this has served as an amusing distraction from the latest sources of distress in my life, namely: Having to sequester myself in my home and attend meetings with the school administrators by telephone because of a whooping cough outbreak, the escalating raids against immigrant groups in my community, neo-fascist graffiti at my school, and having to see people I despise be successful in ways that I never could. Obviously, not all of these are equal. But they all contribute to a general feeling that I have been under siege of late.
While reasonable people can disagree over whether the current problems I face are truly new, they certainly seem to have taken on a new urgency. Certainly this is the first time since I arrived back in the United States that immigrant communities in my local community have been subject to ICE raids. Although this is not the first time that my school has experienced fascist graffiti, it is the largest such incident. The political situation, which was previously an abstract thing which was occasionally remarked upon during conversation has become far more tangible. I can see the results in the streets and in my communications with my friends as clearly as I can see the weather.
I might have been able to move past these incidents and focus on other areas of my life, except that other areas of my life have also come under pressure, albeit for different reasons. The school nurse’s office recently disclosed that there has been at least one confirmed case of Whooping Cough. As I have written about previously, this kind of outbreak is a major concern for me, and means in practice that I cannot put myself at risk by going into school until this is resolved. Inconveniently, this announcement came only days before I was due to have an important meeting with school administrators (something which is nerve wracking at the best of times, and day-ruining at others). The nature of the meeting meant that it could not be postponed, and so had to be conducted by telephone.
At the same time, events in my personal life have conspired to force me to confront an uncomfortable truth: People I despise on a personal level are currently more successful and happier than me. I have a strong sense of justice, and so seeing people whom I know have put me and others down in the past be rewarded, while I myself yet struggle to achieve my goals, is quite painful. I recognize that this is petty, but it feels like a very personal example of what seems, from where I stand, to be an acutely distressing trend: The people I consider my adversaries are ahead and in control. Policies I abhor and regard as destructive to the ideals and people I hold dear are advancing. Fear and anger are beating out hope and friendship, and allowing evil and darkness to rise.
Ghost me is winning. He has wreaked havoc in all areas of my life, so that I feel surrounded and horrifically outmatched. He has led me to believe that I am hated and unwanted by all. He has caused fissures in my self-image, making me question whether I can really claim to stand for the weak if I’m not willing to throw myself into every skirmish. He has made me doubt whether, if these people whom I consider misguided and immoral are being so successful and happy, that perhaps it is I who is the immoral one.
These are, of course, traps. Ghost me, like real me, is familiar with the Art of War, and knows that the best way to win a fight is to do so without actual physical combat. And because he knows me; because he is me, and because I am my own worst enemy, he knows how best to set up a trap that I can hardly resist walking into. He tries to convince me to squander my resources and my endurance fighting battles that are already lost. He tries to poke me everywhere at once to disorient me and make me doubt my own senses. Worst of all, he tries to set me up to question myself, making me doubt myself and why I fight, and making me want to simply capitulate.
Not likely.
What ghost me seems to forget is that I am among the most relentlessly stubborn people either of us know. I have fought continuously for a majority of my life now to survive against the odds, and against the wishes of certain aspects of my biology. And I will continue fighting, if necessary for years, if necessary, alone. I am, however, not alone. And if I feel surrounded, then ghost me is not only surrounded, but outnumbered.
