Friday, October 7, 2016
Sometimes the worst urge we have as social beings to assume we know everything about a person before we even talk to them. We are wrong. One thing I've learned in this world is that people often have a way of surprising you.
Saturday, September 17, 2016
Saturday, September 10, 2016
Friday, August 19, 2016
Saturday, July 16, 2016
Saturday, July 2, 2016
It's pretty ridiculous how differently people can view the world while living in the same one. With so many folks out there wanting money; wanting career successes; wanting children, etc, etc, etc... I feel all alone here thinking, "...... I just want to be desired.".
Monday, June 6, 2016
Thursday, June 2, 2016
My primary desire in this life is to make people happy, which would, in turn, make me happy. Ironically, no matter how hard I try to do this, I always seem to hurt people instead. Maybe it's true what they say - that there's a reason for everything; that things have a way of working out for the best. Perhaps that's the reason I'm meant to be alone in this world. Maybe that's the true way I can help people - by keeping them away from me in the first place; from the damage I will unintentionally, but inevitably, do to their hearts.
I'm not sure exactly at which point in time I became broken. I don't think I was always this way; at least, not as a young boy. But at some point I reached a moment in my life when I was torn into two different people. These two people are polar opposites, with different desires, different attitudes, and different approaches to life. They see the world around them differently and feel different emotions. I have been living with them both inside me for quite some time now. They're grappled in an eternal struggle, lashing at each other... It's tearing me apart from the inside. Because of this, I find it impossible for me to ever be fully happy. The best I can hope for is to make one of them happy. But that, of course, only means that the other will not be. No matter what I do, there will inevitably be a part of me that is unhappy; a part of me that is hollow; a part of me that is missing.
I don't know what else I can do at this point.
I will overload and melt down soon.
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
I should be fulfilled. I should be content. I should be happy. I should be savoring the beautiful life I have.
I have a fairly decent bill of health. I have a beautiful, caring wife. I have an adopted kitty who's my furry, adorable best friend. I have two supportive parents who love me and would do anything for me. I have a good job and enough money in my bank accounts. I have lots of hobbies; lots of interests; lots of passions. On the surface, I seem to have everything a person should need to be happy.
One of my favorite artists, Janet Jackson, once said, "There's nothing more depressing than having everything and still feeling sad." Somehow I know exactly what she meant.
I often feel that happiness was something never meant for me. As if it's a hand dealt to many, but I was never even invited to poker night. I don't want to complain. I don't want to seem ungrateful for what I have, because I never was. But something inside me is just not right. There's a void where beautiful things should be.
I am working to try and fill that void. But it is a long journey.
This journey is very hard.
Saturday, May 28, 2016
Wednesday, April 27, 2016
On April 25th, 2006, someone who was close to me committed suicide. Her name was Liz. She was a brilliant, funny, and caring person. She was a friend. It's now been ten years since Liz left this world, which means it's also been ten years since I was last able to cry. I'm not sure where the time has gone.
I've been exploring my emotions from Liz's suicide in therapy lately. It seems I never really found closure or learned how to properly grieve for her. But I have certainly been making progress. It's important for me to note that I have never been angry at Liz for the decision she made ten years ago. Not once. She lived and struggled through nightmares most other people can only imagine. As awesome as she was, she struggled to see herself in the same bright light that others saw her. I think many of us can relate to that... My point is, just because you think of yourself in a bad way doesn't mean the rest of the world does. We are often our own worst critics. (I know I definitely am!) It's so important to learn to love yourself, and to forgive yourself.
On a more personal note, I also feel it's extremely important that we stop equating suicide to selfishness. I hear this sentiment being repeated so often and it makes me cringe every time. Severe depression and suicide are not about being selfish. (I know some would argue this.) They're about not being able to live with your pain any longer. They're about believing your heart that the world - and those you love - will truly be better off without you being around to bring them down. Depression is the great downward spiral, and suicide is the breaking point at the spiral's bottom. Many of us fall into this devastating spiral during some point in our lives. Some of us cannot lift ourselves back out, no matter how hard we try. All of us need help... You can't truly understand a person's life until you have lived it. We all experience different lives. Stop judging. Start loving. And if you have the opportunity, be that help. We're all in this together.
(RIP Liz. You were loved and you will never be forgotten.)
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
"Prince Fuckface" would be a perfect name for me because I aspire to grow to be prince-like someday. All Regal-like and stuff. Not in a literal way... Not in that It's-2016-so-why-the-fuck-are-all-those-countries-still-doing-that-royal-shit kinda way. But just in more of a basic sense... As if the concept of social status was relevant whatsoever to the quality of individual character in the real world... Yeah, I aspire to be a prince. Someday, perhaps I'll reach that summit. But until then, I'm mostly just a fuckface.
Friday, March 11, 2016
Saturday, February 27, 2016
Friday, February 5, 2016
I spent the majority of my teen years waiting, and wanting, to die.
I spent my twenties mostly in a drunk haze, trying desperately to escape the pain of loneliness and despair; eventually escaping neither.
Here I am now, in my mid-thirties. Married. Structured. Somewhat responsible... I may still not have a purpose, but I finally have something to live for.
What will my forties bring?
Fifties? Sixties? Possibly beyond? ... If I'm lucky enough...
I don't know, but what I do know, is that I've never been more happy to be alive. And I secretly hope this life lasts forever.
There's so much I still want to do.
Friday, January 22, 2016
Friday, January 8, 2016
What it has become: A stale night of T-Mobile smearing their logo feces and trademark magenta all over the Space Needle (and Seattle Center), eventually interrupted by eight minutes of mediocre fireworks and obscure, unrecognizable music.
Thank you, relentless and mind-numbing marketing industry for ruining, yet again, something that I used to love.