You know, there are many other people who do the same job I do. They come from all different walks of life and that's ok. They hear the same shit day after day after day as I do, and that's to be expected because we can't pick and choose who we deal with when the phone rings. Some of them have had some of the same types of issues to deal with as I have...some worse, some not. However, some people deal with different situations in different ways. I, for one, make a mistake all too often and get too empathetic with the people I deal with on a daily basis and I have a VERY difficult time hearing the things they have to say. I don't handle those types of things as well as other people do and it shows, more often on the inside of my head than the outside. I try to hold it together as best as I can, but some days it gets the best of me and it DOES become evident to others around me and yes, I feel bad that my emotional weakness does not allow me to control my emotions as well as others. It's who I am. If you don't like it, go fuck yourself. Yeah, I cursed. I curse a lot and anyone who knows me would agree with that.
I don't troubleshoot cell phones for Sprint, I don't deal with crabby customers who get the wrong size shoes from the JCPenney catalog and want me to bend over backwards to accommodate their oftentimes unreasonable demands. I am a contractor for the Department of Defense and I deal exclusively with soldiers who have recently returned from the theater of war. Some of them have seen combat up close and personal, and some haven't. It doesn't matter. They do what I am unable to. Sometimes their stories are not at all pleasant, to put it mildly. They live in conditions I would not let my dog live in if I had one and they're there VOLUNTARILY. They enlist knowing full well they will likely be shipped off to war and very well may not return. I can't and won't get into some of the things I hear because I put myself at risk for doing so. Suffice to say that the things I hear...while not bad to others, are bad to ME.
I have a lot of difficulty hearing some of the things I hear on a regular basis. I empathize with each and every soldier I talk to because they deserve to be listened to. They deserve to be heard and goddammit, if that person is me, I fucking listen. I hear each and every word they say because they fucking earned it. Some days I don't want to...some days I can't stand to hear another goddamn story about what happens overseas and I want to run from my desk as fast as I can and never look back. But those are the days that I dig deeper than I ever have before and I find the strength to do it one more time. It's always one more time...there is never a last time and there never will be and I force myself to be ok with that because I have to. The people I work with hear the same things that I do...maybe they deal with it better, and maybe they don't. How they deal with their shit is their own thing.
Maybe I have a difficult time with it because my father was a soldier until he passed away...as are many other members of my family whom I love and respect very much. Maybe it's because I'm too empathetic to a fault. Maybe it's something entirely different. I don't know and I don't fucking care. It's my job and I do it because I help people. I have personally saved lives because of my empathy and compassion and that fucking means something to me. If it doesn't mean anything to you, then you have more problems than I do, and that's saying a lot lately.
What I do...how I do it...it's not trained. It's born in you, and it's either a gift or a curse...sometimes both.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Lighten Up, Francis...
When a person goes crazy, it's...well, it's certainly an interesting trip. One may even call it insanity. There are things that people in that mindset experience that normal people don't. They think things that aren't normal, acceptable, or even humanly possible. Things go through their heads that cannot be explained by even the most qualified trained professionals. It starts out slow...once in a blue moon they have a fleeting thought of something that just isn't quite right. Soon afterwards the thoughts are more and more frequent. They hear things in the midst of silence, they see things that aren't there, and they imagine things that just plain ol' aren't true. It's not like they wake up one morning and think to themselves "Maybe I'll lose my mind today." It doesn't work like that. It takes time...like watching paint dry only a LOT longer. Or something like that. You get the idea.
People who are sick...whether it's bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, paranoia, or what have you...people who are suffering from those and other afflictions are oftentimes difficult to deal with and are just plain pains in the ass sometimes. It's not that they TRY to do the things they do...often they can't help it and no matter how hard they try they cannot function as "normal" human beings without therapy and/or medication. There are scientific forces at work in their brains that simply will NOT allow them to lead normal lives. Sure, they might get by for a little while...couple months, maybe a year or two at best. But it catches up quick...and when it comes on it hits them in the face like a ton of bricks and knocks them flat on their ass. By then it's usually too late...the bridges have been burned, the damage has been done beyond repair, and it's all over but the cryin'.
Those in the early stages of some afflictions sense the onset...they try to warn others to run...they intentionally (and sometimes subconsciously) sabotage their interactions with other people so it won't hurt as bad when others actually take their advice. They know they're difficult to approach, converse and interact with, and they're ok with that...sometimes they prefer it that way to save themselves the pain of failure. Occasionally they drive people away on purpose...many times the emotional price they pay while doing so can never be justified.
However...once in a blue moon, they discover the one person who actually gets through to them and breaks down the walls they have so meticulously set in place, brick by brick...the elaborate construction sometimes taking years to complete. The ONE person who understands them...possibly the one person who has been in their shoes and walked down their path. Most of the time that person won't know what they've done. Most of the time they won't think twice about the relief they've given to someone else because they don't know how important it is. For the afflicted, it's like finding a four-leaf clover in the Sahara Desert. It just isn't supposed to happen. Ever. But it does. And when it does they just want to do the happy dance over and over again...
<("<) (>")> <("<) (>")>
so they do their little happy dance. And all is right in the world again. They see things clearly...they start to think clearly more often than normal. Things seem...right. Things they had never found pleasure in before. Normal things that seemed so ridiculous in the past. Normal things that are now normal. And it FEELS normal. Life is good...until...
panic sets in.
o.O
turns into
O.O
and then into
"WHY THE BLUE FUCK AM I SO HAPPY?!?!??!?" Well...this can't go on. Happiness? Not their gig. Can't have any of THAT, now can we? STFU, stop the press, slam on the brakes, and it goes back to square one. The happiness is gone. The normalcy we cherished...it disappeared like a fart in the wind. And the cycle starts all over again. Vicious cycle it is, indeed. Nothing anyone should have to go through. But it happens...all too often. Happy...sad...happy...sad...happy...sad. It's a never-ending internal battle of good versus evil. One does not simply walk into sanity. One must embrace it...nurture it...care for it...and love it. Sanity seems to come freely for some and is taken for granted more often than not. But INsanity...many pay a much higher price than they can afford...for some it costs them their lives.
People who are sick...whether it's bipolar disorder, schizophrenia, paranoia, or what have you...people who are suffering from those and other afflictions are oftentimes difficult to deal with and are just plain pains in the ass sometimes. It's not that they TRY to do the things they do...often they can't help it and no matter how hard they try they cannot function as "normal" human beings without therapy and/or medication. There are scientific forces at work in their brains that simply will NOT allow them to lead normal lives. Sure, they might get by for a little while...couple months, maybe a year or two at best. But it catches up quick...and when it comes on it hits them in the face like a ton of bricks and knocks them flat on their ass. By then it's usually too late...the bridges have been burned, the damage has been done beyond repair, and it's all over but the cryin'.
Those in the early stages of some afflictions sense the onset...they try to warn others to run...they intentionally (and sometimes subconsciously) sabotage their interactions with other people so it won't hurt as bad when others actually take their advice. They know they're difficult to approach, converse and interact with, and they're ok with that...sometimes they prefer it that way to save themselves the pain of failure. Occasionally they drive people away on purpose...many times the emotional price they pay while doing so can never be justified.
However...once in a blue moon, they discover the one person who actually gets through to them and breaks down the walls they have so meticulously set in place, brick by brick...the elaborate construction sometimes taking years to complete. The ONE person who understands them...possibly the one person who has been in their shoes and walked down their path. Most of the time that person won't know what they've done. Most of the time they won't think twice about the relief they've given to someone else because they don't know how important it is. For the afflicted, it's like finding a four-leaf clover in the Sahara Desert. It just isn't supposed to happen. Ever. But it does. And when it does they just want to do the happy dance over and over again...
<("<) (>")> <("<) (>")>
so they do their little happy dance. And all is right in the world again. They see things clearly...they start to think clearly more often than normal. Things seem...right. Things they had never found pleasure in before. Normal things that seemed so ridiculous in the past. Normal things that are now normal. And it FEELS normal. Life is good...until...
panic sets in.
o.O
turns into
O.O
and then into
"WHY THE BLUE FUCK AM I SO HAPPY?!?!??!?" Well...this can't go on. Happiness? Not their gig. Can't have any of THAT, now can we? STFU, stop the press, slam on the brakes, and it goes back to square one. The happiness is gone. The normalcy we cherished...it disappeared like a fart in the wind. And the cycle starts all over again. Vicious cycle it is, indeed. Nothing anyone should have to go through. But it happens...all too often. Happy...sad...happy...sad...happy...sad. It's a never-ending internal battle of good versus evil. One does not simply walk into sanity. One must embrace it...nurture it...care for it...and love it. Sanity seems to come freely for some and is taken for granted more often than not. But INsanity...many pay a much higher price than they can afford...for some it costs them their lives.
Monday, December 26, 2011
More Coffee, Please...
I've had a bit of writers' block lately...nothing I think of seems to strike me as worthy enough to share with the world, when in all actuality, my life would make one hell of a movie. It would be an epic Peter Jackson eight-part mini-series filled with drama, intrigue, suspense, drunken debauchery and it wouldn't be complete without plenty of despair and self-loathing. I had originally decided to start documenting some of the experiences I've had that others may find interesting (thanks, Patrick, for pushing me to do that) so that my life and the things that happen in it may bring humor to others. If I had to actually document all of them...the interwebs would collapse into a big black hole like I just divided by zero or something like that. It's evolved into so much more than that for me...it's now an outlet for me to document some of the innermost feelings I have and allows me to share them with other people without actually 'sharing' them with anyone at all.
For those just joining us, I hate feelings. I hate talking about them, I hate thinking about them, I hate thinking about talking about them, and I abso-FUCKING-lutely hate that they get the best of me sometimes and the quality of my life is worse because of it. Well, most of the time. But...I deal with it. And lately, I've actually been pretty good at sharing some of those feelings with those close to me. I've told people things that never in a million years would I think I would have the strength or courage to tell anyone...and lo and behold, it felt good. It actually DOES feel good to share deeply personal things with people you care about; people you know will understand exactly where you're coming from and have quite possibly had or are having those same feelings themselves. There is a sense of...how shall I put this...self accomplishment in letting something out, whether it's good or bad, and knowing that it no longer has the same power over you as it used to. Yeah, sometimes it sucks that you have to think about it first before you talk about it, and honestly, that's the hardest part of all, but once it's done...it's done. You can begin to breathe a sigh of relief and smile a little. You can begin to live just a liiiiiitle bit better and move on.
There are also sometimes when it's better that we (I say 'we' but I really mean 'I') just keep our goddamn mouth shut and bottle those feelings up because to not do so at that particular time and place would shoot ourselves in the foot and probably do more harm than good. There is a time and a place for us to say anything and everything, but we have to practice discretion in choosing JUST the right time and place for some of those things to come out into plain view. When it's the right time, we know. It may be weeks, months, or even years or decades before that time comes, but when it does, we just know. It's part of being human. Part of what sets us aside from every other species on the planet. That and opposable thumbs. But anyways, I digress. Knowing the *exact* time and place to say something to someone and not end up in a bigger hole than you started in takes a LOT of thought and a hint of luck. After all, it's not just you...there is another person involved in this as well. If I'm talking to one of my kitchen chairs, then hey...who gives a flying fuck WHAT I'm talking about, right? But when I'm talking to another person...I have to tread lightly. No exceptions. Others have feelings as well, and those need to be taken into consideration. No exceptions there either.
Along with feelings that we are able to express in words and actually share with other people, there are emotions attached. Emotions that can be expressed without saying a single word. Emotions that can be expressed in an infinite amount of ways. Whether it's tone of voice, body language (both of which can be shown and heard in SO many ways), or whatever...most of the time you can say EXACTLY what you want to anyone without saying a single word. For example...when I get a text message from someone that simply says ":-*", I know exactly what that means and it just makes me melt inside thinking about the meaning behind it. It's not a word, it's not an action, nor anything in between. It's 1s and 0s put together in a certain way to convey an emotion that someone wishes to express to me. It's just...yeah. It's just awesome =).
MY emotions...ha. I've been an emotional train wreck lately as anyone in my general vicinity will tell you. Many reasons...some good, some bad. I've learned a lot about myself lately and because of the things I've learned I feel it's made me a better person in some ways. It's a never-ending battle...a lifelong process that will allow me to grow just a little bit more every day. When it's over...then I'll rest. Until then...game on.
For those just joining us, I hate feelings. I hate talking about them, I hate thinking about them, I hate thinking about talking about them, and I abso-FUCKING-lutely hate that they get the best of me sometimes and the quality of my life is worse because of it. Well, most of the time. But...I deal with it. And lately, I've actually been pretty good at sharing some of those feelings with those close to me. I've told people things that never in a million years would I think I would have the strength or courage to tell anyone...and lo and behold, it felt good. It actually DOES feel good to share deeply personal things with people you care about; people you know will understand exactly where you're coming from and have quite possibly had or are having those same feelings themselves. There is a sense of...how shall I put this...self accomplishment in letting something out, whether it's good or bad, and knowing that it no longer has the same power over you as it used to. Yeah, sometimes it sucks that you have to think about it first before you talk about it, and honestly, that's the hardest part of all, but once it's done...it's done. You can begin to breathe a sigh of relief and smile a little. You can begin to live just a liiiiiitle bit better and move on.
There are also sometimes when it's better that we (I say 'we' but I really mean 'I') just keep our goddamn mouth shut and bottle those feelings up because to not do so at that particular time and place would shoot ourselves in the foot and probably do more harm than good. There is a time and a place for us to say anything and everything, but we have to practice discretion in choosing JUST the right time and place for some of those things to come out into plain view. When it's the right time, we know. It may be weeks, months, or even years or decades before that time comes, but when it does, we just know. It's part of being human. Part of what sets us aside from every other species on the planet. That and opposable thumbs. But anyways, I digress. Knowing the *exact* time and place to say something to someone and not end up in a bigger hole than you started in takes a LOT of thought and a hint of luck. After all, it's not just you...there is another person involved in this as well. If I'm talking to one of my kitchen chairs, then hey...who gives a flying fuck WHAT I'm talking about, right? But when I'm talking to another person...I have to tread lightly. No exceptions. Others have feelings as well, and those need to be taken into consideration. No exceptions there either.
Along with feelings that we are able to express in words and actually share with other people, there are emotions attached. Emotions that can be expressed without saying a single word. Emotions that can be expressed in an infinite amount of ways. Whether it's tone of voice, body language (both of which can be shown and heard in SO many ways), or whatever...most of the time you can say EXACTLY what you want to anyone without saying a single word. For example...when I get a text message from someone that simply says ":-*", I know exactly what that means and it just makes me melt inside thinking about the meaning behind it. It's not a word, it's not an action, nor anything in between. It's 1s and 0s put together in a certain way to convey an emotion that someone wishes to express to me. It's just...yeah. It's just awesome =).
MY emotions...ha. I've been an emotional train wreck lately as anyone in my general vicinity will tell you. Many reasons...some good, some bad. I've learned a lot about myself lately and because of the things I've learned I feel it's made me a better person in some ways. It's a never-ending battle...a lifelong process that will allow me to grow just a little bit more every day. When it's over...then I'll rest. Until then...game on.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Remember it...write it down, take a picture, I don't give a...
Before I sat down to type, I had ALL kinds of things I wanted to say about everything under the sun. Now that I'm here...I got nothin'. Not a GOD-damn thing. All I can think of is how crappy that TV dinner was last night and how warm it must be in Fiji right now. Neither of which mean a thing to me at this moment, really. I think that if I just sa...nope. Nothing. My emotions are a shitstorm of astronomical proportions right now and I'm not sure I know how to effectively cope with them. I know how...I just don't know if I neither can nor want to. Things are in motion that have the capacity to change my entire life...and I'm ok with that. Yeah, I'm gonna fuck things up along the way...I already have pretty bad. Not much I can do to rectify things, really. When I mess up, I don't go at it half-assed...it's balls to the wall for me. This will most likely be my shortest blog entry ever. Out.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
The Bread Basket
Don't jump to any conclusions here. The 'bread basket' in question is exactly that. A bread basket. No more, no less. No innuendos of any kind...yet. It was a basket that held bread. Don't judge me for what you're about to read.
At an impromptu dinner for three at a local restaurant with my friends Ed and Erin, we got to experience the bread basket. Well, I did anyways. My alternative for the night was a bag of microwave popcorn, my couch, and a selection from the Lord of the Rings trilogy; most likely The Two Towers because of the epic battle scene at Helm's Deep. That part rocks. So, you can understand why I jumped at a last-minute dinner invitation out to a real restaurant where they serve real food. And bread baskets. It was very much needed tonight...thanks, guys.
So, we ordered our food, and we were enjoying rather calmly. My friend Erin got a basket of fries, which came in another basket, but since it had fries and not bread, it could not technically be designated a 'bread' basket. Along with the fries came a side order of ranch dressing. Hell with the ketchup...bring on the ranch! We all shared a laugh when my friend Ed and I dipped our fries in the same little cup of ranch dressing at the same time, and I beat him to the punch with with the totally disgusting but appropriately expected comment from myself. Kind of a 'two guys, one cup of ranch dressing' thing if you will. However...what happened next was probably one of the funniest things I have most likely ever...EVER, I say...ever done in my adult life. Funnier than the time my friend Jen got the nickname "Butters" in that very same restaurant. Even funnier than the time I lost a bet and drove naked from the grocery store to my apartment...in February. Way more funnier than the time I had those latex pants...we'll leave it at that. That was just disgusting and I think my children read this.
You all know how tasty ranch dressing is...you can pretty much put it on anything and it's just yummy. Steak, cereal, strawberries...it doesn't really matter. I had dipped my french fry in the ranch dressing and on its way back to me, a drop of dressing landed on the bread basket. Just one lone drop. No blob, splotch, or dribble...just one single solitary drop of ranch dressing. Well, that stuff's pretty tasty, you know. Can't be wasteful in this economy. I said, "You know, I really wanna lick that drop of ranch dressing off the bread basket...". I mulled it over for a few moments, and I thought "What the hell...I'm gonna do it. I'm really gonna do it!".
As I was licking the drop of ranch dressing off the bread basket, our waitress chose that precise moment to stop at our table, stand behind my two friends, face me, and ask if we wanted more bread. The look on her face was priceless. I think I had done one of the strangest things she had ever see a patron do in her career at that restaurant. I froze like a deer in headlights, and put the bread basket down on the table, and said "No, we're good...thanks."
Our table was now in hysterics. I couldn't see straight from the tears in my eyes, my stomach was starting to hurt and the infamous V-shaped vein on my forehead was in full effect. Laughter ensued for quite some time...I think at one point my friend Erin told me she was never going anywhere in public with me again, but I know deep down in her heart she was laughing on the inside just as much as I was on the outside.
It wasn't until we left and went outside for a smoke that all the 'lickin' the bread basket' innuendos started. I'm not saying any of them here. My children read this.
At an impromptu dinner for three at a local restaurant with my friends Ed and Erin, we got to experience the bread basket. Well, I did anyways. My alternative for the night was a bag of microwave popcorn, my couch, and a selection from the Lord of the Rings trilogy; most likely The Two Towers because of the epic battle scene at Helm's Deep. That part rocks. So, you can understand why I jumped at a last-minute dinner invitation out to a real restaurant where they serve real food. And bread baskets. It was very much needed tonight...thanks, guys.
So, we ordered our food, and we were enjoying rather calmly. My friend Erin got a basket of fries, which came in another basket, but since it had fries and not bread, it could not technically be designated a 'bread' basket. Along with the fries came a side order of ranch dressing. Hell with the ketchup...bring on the ranch! We all shared a laugh when my friend Ed and I dipped our fries in the same little cup of ranch dressing at the same time, and I beat him to the punch with with the totally disgusting but appropriately expected comment from myself. Kind of a 'two guys, one cup of ranch dressing' thing if you will. However...what happened next was probably one of the funniest things I have most likely ever...EVER, I say...ever done in my adult life. Funnier than the time my friend Jen got the nickname "Butters" in that very same restaurant. Even funnier than the time I lost a bet and drove naked from the grocery store to my apartment...in February. Way more funnier than the time I had those latex pants...we'll leave it at that. That was just disgusting and I think my children read this.
You all know how tasty ranch dressing is...you can pretty much put it on anything and it's just yummy. Steak, cereal, strawberries...it doesn't really matter. I had dipped my french fry in the ranch dressing and on its way back to me, a drop of dressing landed on the bread basket. Just one lone drop. No blob, splotch, or dribble...just one single solitary drop of ranch dressing. Well, that stuff's pretty tasty, you know. Can't be wasteful in this economy. I said, "You know, I really wanna lick that drop of ranch dressing off the bread basket...". I mulled it over for a few moments, and I thought "What the hell...I'm gonna do it. I'm really gonna do it!".
As I was licking the drop of ranch dressing off the bread basket, our waitress chose that precise moment to stop at our table, stand behind my two friends, face me, and ask if we wanted more bread. The look on her face was priceless. I think I had done one of the strangest things she had ever see a patron do in her career at that restaurant. I froze like a deer in headlights, and put the bread basket down on the table, and said "No, we're good...thanks."
Our table was now in hysterics. I couldn't see straight from the tears in my eyes, my stomach was starting to hurt and the infamous V-shaped vein on my forehead was in full effect. Laughter ensued for quite some time...I think at one point my friend Erin told me she was never going anywhere in public with me again, but I know deep down in her heart she was laughing on the inside just as much as I was on the outside.
It wasn't until we left and went outside for a smoke that all the 'lickin' the bread basket' innuendos started. I'm not saying any of them here. My children read this.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Title in Progress...Just Like the Rest of the Book.
Pain is a fickle beast. It makes us act irrationally. It makes us do things that are unnatural, things that are unhealthy for ourselves and those around us, and also things that may be just plain dangerous. It damages us, inside and out...beyond repair in some cases, and it makes us re-evaluate how we conduct our lives and how we interact with other people. People who are in pain are difficult to deal with at times; they don't quite see things from your point of view, and even if they do it just doesn't quite fully sink in. These individuals know that they are in pain and there seems to be no way to escape it, but there always is. It might not be the easy way out, nor is it the path you want to choose because of the fear that's instilled in you, but there is ALWAYS a way out, and sometimes you have to be willing enough to open up and let someone in to help you get out of the abyss you seem to be stuck in.
To put it bluntly, pain is a motherfucker...it hurts like hell, we hate it, and that's the plain truth. I know it as well as anybody else. We let it control us and tower over us and we let it dictate our words and actions. We let it shield us from those who love us and care for us so dearly and want nothing but the best for us. We allow it into our lives and we give it free reign over our emotions. Pain does not discriminate...it digs its claws deep into the strongest and most resilient people and reduces them to nothing but an empty shell of what they used to be. People who are beautiful, caring, intelligent, strong, compassionate, determined, successful...even people like that stand no chance when the demon that we call pain plants its roots inside us. To steal a word or three from Ozzy Osbourne, pain at its best is a 'killer of giants'. Nobody is immune. Even the mighty fall.
We get so used to what that pain feels like that feeling anything else becomes foreign; it becomes almost unwanted. Moments of levity, moments of happiness, moments of joy...we sometimes become uncomfortable at those times because those are emotions that have been absent so long we are no longer equipped with the knowledge that we need to effectively handle them. We get confused and think to ourselves...
"Am I supposed to be happy right now? Why do I feel joy at this particular moment? Why do I not feel pain? Jesus Harold Christ, what the fuck is wrong with me? Where's my pain??"
...but for some reason, it feels good! At that precise moment that our pain is temporarily lifted, the wall comes down a bit and we see things clearly...we see that there is no more need for pain because there are other emotions we find happiness and joy in that we are finally able to appreciate and let flow through our being. It becomes crystal clear to us that there is no more need for pain in our lives...that we have a better way. Let that newly-found clarity drive you...let it show you that there IS something else out there besides the pain you so despise with every fiber of your being. Let it help you allow yourself to be loved and cherished and held and told what you so desperately need to hear. After all...there aren't any fairy tales and happy endings in hell.
To put it bluntly, pain is a motherfucker...it hurts like hell, we hate it, and that's the plain truth. I know it as well as anybody else. We let it control us and tower over us and we let it dictate our words and actions. We let it shield us from those who love us and care for us so dearly and want nothing but the best for us. We allow it into our lives and we give it free reign over our emotions. Pain does not discriminate...it digs its claws deep into the strongest and most resilient people and reduces them to nothing but an empty shell of what they used to be. People who are beautiful, caring, intelligent, strong, compassionate, determined, successful...even people like that stand no chance when the demon that we call pain plants its roots inside us. To steal a word or three from Ozzy Osbourne, pain at its best is a 'killer of giants'. Nobody is immune. Even the mighty fall.
We get so used to what that pain feels like that feeling anything else becomes foreign; it becomes almost unwanted. Moments of levity, moments of happiness, moments of joy...we sometimes become uncomfortable at those times because those are emotions that have been absent so long we are no longer equipped with the knowledge that we need to effectively handle them. We get confused and think to ourselves...
"Am I supposed to be happy right now? Why do I feel joy at this particular moment? Why do I not feel pain? Jesus Harold Christ, what the fuck is wrong with me? Where's my pain??"
...but for some reason, it feels good! At that precise moment that our pain is temporarily lifted, the wall comes down a bit and we see things clearly...we see that there is no more need for pain because there are other emotions we find happiness and joy in that we are finally able to appreciate and let flow through our being. It becomes crystal clear to us that there is no more need for pain in our lives...that we have a better way. Let that newly-found clarity drive you...let it show you that there IS something else out there besides the pain you so despise with every fiber of your being. Let it help you allow yourself to be loved and cherished and held and told what you so desperately need to hear. After all...there aren't any fairy tales and happy endings in hell.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
The Long Lost Blog about the Second Coolest Guy Alive
Some people are wondering why I've been kind of a different person lately...why I've seemingly lost a fair amount of weight, why I've been seeking the company of friends more than normal, why I don't seem myself. The last few months of my life have been trying...more so than normal. I've had to face some hard truths about myself and how I've lived my life. Some good, some not so good. But that's ok...I've learned things about myself that will hopefully help to make me a better person for those who encounter me in the future.
I won't lie. I won't sugarcoat things. I've been an asshole. I've done things that not only affected myself but many people around me, and looking back at my actions, I feel horrible for that. I do have a few morals left, after all these years. I was conceited, arrogant, crass, ignorant, and selfish. I hurt people around me who loved me so dearly with little or no regard for anyone's feelings but my own. I could say SO much more but I'd prefer to keep this simple...as simple as I can, anyways. To those of you in my wake...I sincerely apologize. But, there are times in my life that I must admit complete and utter defeat...this is one of those times, as hard as that is for me to admit.
There are some who know the specifics of the previous month or two of my life, but there are many, many more who do not. Some very close friends of mine have offered me their love and support as I've dealt with something rather painful and difficult...for that I thank you immensely. One of my dearest friends recently kept me from doing something very...unpleasant. That short-lived phase of my life is over and I don't want to revisit it.
And now I draw a blank...as is my usual MO.
Anyways...as I was saying. Or wasn't saying...like the sentence above states. I will bounce back stronger than ever...I will emerge victorious. I will adapt and overcome. I have no option. Falling apart for me right now at this point in my life is NOT feasible in any way, shape or form. Now, more than ever, I MUST win. No exceptions.
I won't lie. I won't sugarcoat things. I've been an asshole. I've done things that not only affected myself but many people around me, and looking back at my actions, I feel horrible for that. I do have a few morals left, after all these years. I was conceited, arrogant, crass, ignorant, and selfish. I hurt people around me who loved me so dearly with little or no regard for anyone's feelings but my own. I could say SO much more but I'd prefer to keep this simple...as simple as I can, anyways. To those of you in my wake...I sincerely apologize. But, there are times in my life that I must admit complete and utter defeat...this is one of those times, as hard as that is for me to admit.
There are some who know the specifics of the previous month or two of my life, but there are many, many more who do not. Some very close friends of mine have offered me their love and support as I've dealt with something rather painful and difficult...for that I thank you immensely. One of my dearest friends recently kept me from doing something very...unpleasant. That short-lived phase of my life is over and I don't want to revisit it.
And now I draw a blank...as is my usual MO.
Anyways...as I was saying. Or wasn't saying...like the sentence above states. I will bounce back stronger than ever...I will emerge victorious. I will adapt and overcome. I have no option. Falling apart for me right now at this point in my life is NOT feasible in any way, shape or form. Now, more than ever, I MUST win. No exceptions.
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