It rolls in like fog off the coast. You can see it coming, you can feel it. Unlike the differential in temperatures that cause coastal fog, the cause of doubt is far more vague. But the two have glaring similarities as well. Like the captain on the sea blind in the fog can run aground, doubt can cause the wary traveler of life to hit a wall full force.
A lot of times for me that doubt is more self-inflicted than anything. Something will trigger it and set off a chain of events. I don't know if I doubt myself more than anyone else, but I can't help but feel that way. It doesn't take much at all to get me going. It's like picking a scab, the more you mess with it the more it bleeds, the bigger it gets, and the worse it gets. Every little thing you do is wrong and you know it. Every thing you do is a big mistake. Even when you don't try or even know you did something, people seem quick to point out how big of a fuck-up you really are.
Take school for instance. How am I going to be able to take care of someone else when I can not even take care of myself? For that matter, that same thing comes in with regards to my family too. How am I supposed to care for my kids and my wife, when I can't take care of myself? How can I show them I love them when I am constantly reminded of my short-comings? How can you repair things when you feel like every time you blink, someone is right there to pull the rug right out from under you? I really don't know how. So if someone out there has some magical way to deal with this let me know.
I feel inadequate. I feel unwanted. Whether people realize it or not, that is what I get from them. I know when I have rational thought that they do not mean it. They do not think that way. They do not want me to feel that way. But in my clouded, fogged in mind, everything I do is wrong. Everything is just a mistake. If I try to be assertive, I'm an asshole. If I go with the flow, I'm spineless. Jack Johnson once sang: "Move like a jellyfish, rhythm is nothing, you go with the flow, you don't stop." I thought for a long time being like the jellyfish was a good thing. If you just go with it, nothing should worry you. But now, I'm feeling more like the Pacific trash island. Still floating along, but a expanse of waste that no one wants to deal with or admit is a problem.
Okay, I'm done whining. Time to go do something else.
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Thursday, August 22, 2013
Back in the Swing of Things.... Sort Of
Well, the summer is over and it is back to school for everyone, including me. School is mostly a solace for me. A place where I can use the good things in my brain to do good things for other people. The good things begin to out muscle the bad. At least that is the plan.
Lately I have done something new for me. For those who know me quite well I have never been religious or spiritual. I could have counted on one hand the times I had been to church if I had to guess, and even less the number of times I went willingly or not required to go. But over the past month or so I have gone to church three times. I'm not looking for "God" or "Allah" or "Yahweh" or Daffy Duck. I know people say I should be. But I am more looking to expand my own feelings, rather than seeking out a single deity to be the be all, end all.
For those of you who believe in one of the aforementioned deities and the many more I did not haphazardly spout off, I have nothing but respect for your beliefs. My personal beliefs are be nice to people. Basically Kindergarten. Treat everyone in the same fashion you wish them to treat you, play nice, don't hit people with cardboard bricks, don't eat or drink things you shouldn't (paste), stop and color a picture or make macaroni art, and have fun. I don't mean fun like "Woohoo Party!" I mean do things that make you happy. Things that are neutral to or help others. Don't have too much fun at someone's expense. I am certainly one that jokes and teases with people, but it is not in malice, if I do it to you, I openly expect you to do the same to me.
The church I have been going to, instead of teaching Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or Satanism, talks about how to live your life and that everyone, regardless of race, religion, socioeconomic status, appearance, or geographic location, is important. Everyone is worthwhile. Everyone should be treated as a friend and an equal. Just because we don't see eye to eye on politics, racism, importance of trivial things, or anything else for that matter, does not mean I should look down on you. Help others. If we all actually made ourselves available, to the extent you are comfortable with, the world would undoubtedly be a happier place overall. If you can believe that the beggar on the dirt streets in sub-Saharan Africa and yourself are both important, then what would drive hate? If you viewed everyone, including yourself as having worth, how can you truly hate someone else? If you hate others it is undoubtedly more your issues, and less of theirs. Now I am not saying you have to love everyone, hold hands, and play the bongos with everyone, just respect them. You never truly know what is going on with them. You may dislike their actions, their words, their decisions, but you don't know what is in their head or what they have been through.
Okay, I'm getting off my pulpit/soapbox now.
Just be nice to people. Words hurt and last a very long time. I still think about things that were done to me in elementary school or middle school. Times when I was looked down upon, bullied, teased, made fun of, picked on, treated as an outcast. That sticks with people. When you are young and don't know any better, the majority of people probably aren't wrong, so to the kid, they believe these things. These things pile up and drag them under. Every insult is a brick added to the sack tied to their ankle as they are treading water. Every once in awhile, a compliment or accomplishment will remove a brick or two. But for me, there was always someone there with another to replace it. I am sure someone who reads this will be one of the people that added a wheelbarrow of bricks to the pile. I just want to tell them, it's okay. We were kids, you didn't know better. I don't know what was going through your head or going on in your life at that time. If your way to survive was to be mean to me, I get it. We all just want to keep our heads above water. I just hope that the person you have become today, knows that the person you were then hurt people. I only hope you have learned from that, and do not still bully people or pick on someone with the sole purpose of making them feel bad. I certainly hope you will not tolerate your kids to bully someone either.
Ok complete change of topic now. I still have bad days. I can't be truthful if I say they aren't there. But now the good days outnumber the bad ones. I don't have stretches of bad days that seem never-ending and unrelenting. They also don't take me to a place where I stumble down the road of thinking about harming myself. I have not cut myself, or inflicted pain on myself in almost a year. I still have scars. Mostly on my thighs and upper arm. I remember a time, around this time last year where I was learning how to give intramuscular injections and the instructor asked me to pull up my sleeve to show the deltoid site. I quickly lifted it, covering the still fresh knife cuts with my hand, pretending it was just there to hold my sleeve, but it was there to hide my pain.
For those of you who read this that are in my class. I must say to all of you that there was nothing you could do. I was very good at acting as if nothing was wrong when I was in public or at school. None of you could see that sometimes during lecture or labs my hand move down my leg to my ankle as if to scratch an itch, instead it was drawing the blade of a small knife across my skin to keep me from breaking down. It was a temporary fix, obviously. It didn't help with what was going on, it masked my emotional pain with the pain of laceration. You hear about people having a release from cutting themselves. It isn't what you think. It is not a pleasurable release. It was a release from internal struggles to control your own mind. For a brief time you could take control of your brain by forcing it to respond to the pain and the wound. It would be like smacking your hand with a hammer after stubbing your toe. Not very smart in retrospect.
When I say I was good at acting fine, I was. But pretending to be fine took an even bigger toll than I realized at first. Keeping up with appearances was exhausting. I was spent, and hid from the world mostly in my own bedroom, ignoring the people who cared for me the most, and that I cared for the most. It was my way of shielding them from me. It was easier to hide, to disengage, than it was to try and keep up my acting with people who could see through that. That knew the facade was bullshit. That knew something was wrong. But like the people at school, there was nothing they could do. They offered me anything. I still didn't want to worry them or burden them. In my own head I wasn't worth their time and their worry. But that wasn't true at all. A sick mind plays many cruel tricks on you. Perceptions are skewed, words are bent to mean something else, the look from across the room which was just a passing glance, was piercing. It was judging. It knew you were full of crap, so you better get away or try harder to cover it up.
For a long time I had been the one dumping the bricks that were pulling me under. No one else but my messed up mind. I was a master bricklayer by the time it finally pulled all the way under. It slammed against the ocean floor and that was it. Ever since then I have been cutting at the threads to shed the weight and resurface. Oh to just be bobbing in the ocean. Semi-buoyant compared to having a makeshift anchor tied to your legs. I'm sure I will never be free of everything. Things will happen, the hypothetical bricks will make their way back to me. But maybe, just maybe if I am good, and kind, and help others, and be a good man they will just fall to the ocean floor never hanging out in that sack tied around my ankle. They won't carry the weight they once did, and all of you will be my ducky floaty around my waist and the water wings on my arms. So in advance, thank you. Thank you for understanding if I am having a bad day. Thank you for offering to talk, even if I can't bring myself to do it. Thank you for listening when I do. Thank you to those who do not judge me for what they perceive and instead appreciate what I am trying to do. Thank you to those that do not judge me if and when I can't help but cry. Yes, grown men can cry. It has taken me 33 years to figure out it is ok. Better to just let it out and not bottle it up like I did for so long, right?
So back to school, back to routine, and onto a path to a more balanced and "normal" place. With the restarting of school and the need to be on a computer, I am truly hoping to update this more often than I did this summer. Until I post again, be good to yourself and others, and once again thank you.
Lately I have done something new for me. For those who know me quite well I have never been religious or spiritual. I could have counted on one hand the times I had been to church if I had to guess, and even less the number of times I went willingly or not required to go. But over the past month or so I have gone to church three times. I'm not looking for "God" or "Allah" or "Yahweh" or Daffy Duck. I know people say I should be. But I am more looking to expand my own feelings, rather than seeking out a single deity to be the be all, end all.
For those of you who believe in one of the aforementioned deities and the many more I did not haphazardly spout off, I have nothing but respect for your beliefs. My personal beliefs are be nice to people. Basically Kindergarten. Treat everyone in the same fashion you wish them to treat you, play nice, don't hit people with cardboard bricks, don't eat or drink things you shouldn't (paste), stop and color a picture or make macaroni art, and have fun. I don't mean fun like "Woohoo Party!" I mean do things that make you happy. Things that are neutral to or help others. Don't have too much fun at someone's expense. I am certainly one that jokes and teases with people, but it is not in malice, if I do it to you, I openly expect you to do the same to me.
The church I have been going to, instead of teaching Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or Satanism, talks about how to live your life and that everyone, regardless of race, religion, socioeconomic status, appearance, or geographic location, is important. Everyone is worthwhile. Everyone should be treated as a friend and an equal. Just because we don't see eye to eye on politics, racism, importance of trivial things, or anything else for that matter, does not mean I should look down on you. Help others. If we all actually made ourselves available, to the extent you are comfortable with, the world would undoubtedly be a happier place overall. If you can believe that the beggar on the dirt streets in sub-Saharan Africa and yourself are both important, then what would drive hate? If you viewed everyone, including yourself as having worth, how can you truly hate someone else? If you hate others it is undoubtedly more your issues, and less of theirs. Now I am not saying you have to love everyone, hold hands, and play the bongos with everyone, just respect them. You never truly know what is going on with them. You may dislike their actions, their words, their decisions, but you don't know what is in their head or what they have been through.
Okay, I'm getting off my pulpit/soapbox now.
Just be nice to people. Words hurt and last a very long time. I still think about things that were done to me in elementary school or middle school. Times when I was looked down upon, bullied, teased, made fun of, picked on, treated as an outcast. That sticks with people. When you are young and don't know any better, the majority of people probably aren't wrong, so to the kid, they believe these things. These things pile up and drag them under. Every insult is a brick added to the sack tied to their ankle as they are treading water. Every once in awhile, a compliment or accomplishment will remove a brick or two. But for me, there was always someone there with another to replace it. I am sure someone who reads this will be one of the people that added a wheelbarrow of bricks to the pile. I just want to tell them, it's okay. We were kids, you didn't know better. I don't know what was going through your head or going on in your life at that time. If your way to survive was to be mean to me, I get it. We all just want to keep our heads above water. I just hope that the person you have become today, knows that the person you were then hurt people. I only hope you have learned from that, and do not still bully people or pick on someone with the sole purpose of making them feel bad. I certainly hope you will not tolerate your kids to bully someone either.
Ok complete change of topic now. I still have bad days. I can't be truthful if I say they aren't there. But now the good days outnumber the bad ones. I don't have stretches of bad days that seem never-ending and unrelenting. They also don't take me to a place where I stumble down the road of thinking about harming myself. I have not cut myself, or inflicted pain on myself in almost a year. I still have scars. Mostly on my thighs and upper arm. I remember a time, around this time last year where I was learning how to give intramuscular injections and the instructor asked me to pull up my sleeve to show the deltoid site. I quickly lifted it, covering the still fresh knife cuts with my hand, pretending it was just there to hold my sleeve, but it was there to hide my pain.
For those of you who read this that are in my class. I must say to all of you that there was nothing you could do. I was very good at acting as if nothing was wrong when I was in public or at school. None of you could see that sometimes during lecture or labs my hand move down my leg to my ankle as if to scratch an itch, instead it was drawing the blade of a small knife across my skin to keep me from breaking down. It was a temporary fix, obviously. It didn't help with what was going on, it masked my emotional pain with the pain of laceration. You hear about people having a release from cutting themselves. It isn't what you think. It is not a pleasurable release. It was a release from internal struggles to control your own mind. For a brief time you could take control of your brain by forcing it to respond to the pain and the wound. It would be like smacking your hand with a hammer after stubbing your toe. Not very smart in retrospect.
When I say I was good at acting fine, I was. But pretending to be fine took an even bigger toll than I realized at first. Keeping up with appearances was exhausting. I was spent, and hid from the world mostly in my own bedroom, ignoring the people who cared for me the most, and that I cared for the most. It was my way of shielding them from me. It was easier to hide, to disengage, than it was to try and keep up my acting with people who could see through that. That knew the facade was bullshit. That knew something was wrong. But like the people at school, there was nothing they could do. They offered me anything. I still didn't want to worry them or burden them. In my own head I wasn't worth their time and their worry. But that wasn't true at all. A sick mind plays many cruel tricks on you. Perceptions are skewed, words are bent to mean something else, the look from across the room which was just a passing glance, was piercing. It was judging. It knew you were full of crap, so you better get away or try harder to cover it up.
For a long time I had been the one dumping the bricks that were pulling me under. No one else but my messed up mind. I was a master bricklayer by the time it finally pulled all the way under. It slammed against the ocean floor and that was it. Ever since then I have been cutting at the threads to shed the weight and resurface. Oh to just be bobbing in the ocean. Semi-buoyant compared to having a makeshift anchor tied to your legs. I'm sure I will never be free of everything. Things will happen, the hypothetical bricks will make their way back to me. But maybe, just maybe if I am good, and kind, and help others, and be a good man they will just fall to the ocean floor never hanging out in that sack tied around my ankle. They won't carry the weight they once did, and all of you will be my ducky floaty around my waist and the water wings on my arms. So in advance, thank you. Thank you for understanding if I am having a bad day. Thank you for offering to talk, even if I can't bring myself to do it. Thank you for listening when I do. Thank you to those who do not judge me for what they perceive and instead appreciate what I am trying to do. Thank you to those that do not judge me if and when I can't help but cry. Yes, grown men can cry. It has taken me 33 years to figure out it is ok. Better to just let it out and not bottle it up like I did for so long, right?
So back to school, back to routine, and onto a path to a more balanced and "normal" place. With the restarting of school and the need to be on a computer, I am truly hoping to update this more often than I did this summer. Until I post again, be good to yourself and others, and once again thank you.
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