The Meltdown Begins

2014 is going to be an interesting year.

2013 wrapped up as a solid year for me. I was able to make a lot of personal progress and overcome some previous hang-ups. I've put many secret plans in motion for 2014, but unfortunately some of them have already hit a giant snag. ... I'm getting laid off. This setback will likely take me months to recover from. I've never been one to put much stock into the idea of having a career, which makes me a "loser" in some peoples' eyes. In my way of thinking, a job is just a job, and the only reason I work is because I essentially have no choice. (I work to live, I don't live to work.) With that said, I'd be lying if I said I've been handling this transition well. The truth is, even before the news of the lay-off, one of my major goals for 2014 was to finally begin therapy. This is something I've always wanted, and more accurately, NEEDED to do. Now with the loss of my insurance, that's going to be delayed until I can find more that will help cover it. But this is still the plan.

Some people will say that being in therapy means you're weak. I believe the opposite. We all have issues, and anyone who thinks they don't is only lying to themselves. Being in therapy means you're making an effort to work on those issues. It takes a lot of strength... and patience, to expose yourself and admit all of your flaws in order to begin rebuilding. I'm ready to do just that. You cannot grow if you don't change. Then again, maybe this is all just a crazy person talking.

Beyond Broken

I wear these earplugs as if somehow they will block the noise of my frustration with the world from me.

With each day I become more and more convinced that nobody will ever understand me. I feel like an outsider. I feel like an alien. I feel like a ghost. I always have. I'm here... but I'm not really here. I'm just something that gets in peoples' way and uses up valuable oxygen. After thirty-four years, I'm still unable to relate to just about everything other people talk about: children, brothers, sisters, friends, pets, weddings, houses, careers, college life, parties, clubs, high school romances, proms, summer breaks, etc, etc, etc, etc... These concepts are all completely foreign to me. They always have been. I'm not sure I belong in this world. Even crying. Fucking crying. Another thing that I can't relate to. I have no doubt that anyone who reads this will dismiss this entire rant as a simple pity-party. And maybe it is. But it's also exactly how I feel. And nobody truly knows how I feel because the world doesn't revolve around me. Only my world does. And my world is damaged.

Another thing nobody really knows about me is that I spend most of my life pretending. When others tell me about things, I pretend that I care about and understand their dilemmas. Most of the time, I barely even know what the fuck they're talking about. But I pretend anyway. My brain often doesn't work correctly. When someone asks me a question, my mind goes blank and it makes me feel stupid. Even if I know the answer. I never know what to say. And that makes me feel even more stupid.

I wish I could just cry like everyone else to get this frustration out of my head, but I can't. Instead, it continues to plague my brain like a cancer.

I'm still looking, but so far I haven't found the cure.

Reaching

How is it that I can sometimes feel so well-rounded and so broken at the same time? I feel fairly adjusted... on the right path... adapted to this life and the expectations it continually forces on me. Simultaneously, I often feel lost. As if the world offers me a handful of gifts and yanks them back just as I try to reach for them.

Therapy

Being in therapy is not a sign of weakness. Just because someone seeks mental help doesn't automatically mean they have more problems than you do. If we were being honest, we'd admit that every single one of us is a walking shit-show in one way or another. We deal with depression, anxiety, phobias, abandonment issues, guilt, grief, anger, resentment, insecurity, addiction... etc, etc. Seeking a professional to help identify and correct these problems only means that you are making an attempt to grow. Never be embarrassed about doing that. Be proud. It means you are strong enough to open yourself up completely for analyzation.

That takes much more courage than most of us have.

The Idea...

I've been kicking around this idea lately. It's something that has always appealed to me, whether subconsciously, or consciously. It's something drastic, yet appropriate... uncommon, yet necessary... frightening, yet peaceful. It's an idea that makes perfect sense for me but also forces me to place everything under a microscope. I call this idea "The Great Purge".

The Great Purge is a personal thing. It applies to only the one who puts it in motion. It's the act of cleansing one's life by removing connections to all things that harbor bad feelings... bad thoughts... bad memories. It's the journey of analyzing every single piece of your life, embracing only the things that truly bring you joy, and discarding the rest to be reclaimed by the outside world. I sense this Great Purge looming just ahead on my path.

How soon will I reach it?

It may be sooner than I realize...

The Root Of It All

I'm at the point now where money just doesn't mean anything to me. There's nothing I really want to buy. I already have everything I need. Don't get me wrong, I will be keeping what little money I do have in the name of necessity. And sure, there are a few minor, unimportant items I'd like to add to my personal entertainment library at some point, but even these aren't enough to drive any sense of greed or personal accumulation that seem to infest the rest of this society. It's not like I'll lose any sleep if I never get around to picking up those items. It's not life or death.

Money just doesn't matter to me. It doesn't mean anything and yet our society continues to revolve around it. Lives are made. Lives are lost. Relationships are forged and shattered. People are born and killed... all because of money.

It just doesn't matter to me anymore. I see the bigger picture. It's not the picture of an immediate, unknown future where living paycheck-to-paycheck becomes a feared routine. It's not the picture of making friends and family envious of my possessions and status. It's not even a picture of the twisting path to retirement and beyond. The picture I see is a portrait of the known universe, with billions of galaxies, each with billions of stars... each star with multiple planets and billions of potential beings in its light. And I can see us, here on Earth - just seven billion primitive humans on one rock who all seem to have their priorities backwards. Each of whom has been brainwashed into thinking that money actually counts for something, as if somehow it's a reflection of a person's heart and spirit. It isn't. It never was. In my opinion, the best things a person can offer this world are benevolence... passion... affection... love. You have never needed a paycheck to afford these things.

But that's just me. I guess I'm weird like that. I don't fit in because I think about things like this while everyone else is out trying to "succeed in life". Sometimes it's hard to feel like a good American when I don't worship money like everyone else. Why am I so different? What made me feel this way? Why have I never felt like I belong? I often find myself beyond frustration over these things. Am I honestly losing my mind? Or am I actually beginning to find it? Am I falling into a nightmare or finally waking up?

It's funny really. I feel like I'm finding my true self more and more every day... and I've never felt more lost.

Houston, ...

So I've been going through a bunch of old, ultimately unimportant items from my past that are wasting precious storage space. Among these items: some of my school papers from ancient times. Among these old school papers, I found a short High School report I did on the Apollo missions. During a somewhat serious account of Jim Lovell and crew's Apollo 13 journey, I apparently decided it was a great idea to include the following lines:

"...what really caused the explosion was a leak in the oxygen tank that eventually gave way. That's why they had to store their turd chunks in little plastic bags."

After reading this - and after laughing out loud unexpectedly for a bit - a number of random thoughts filled my head: (A) Wow, that was really random. (B) Haha that's kinda funny. I kill me. (C) And what did the teacher think when they were trying to grade this mess? (D) Was I honestly even trying to get an "A"? (E) How do they let me walk around without a helmet on? (F) I'm so glad High School is over. It was such a nightmare. On to better and brighter things!

... Upon further reflection, I appreciate the fact that along this crazy life-journey thing we call...... life-journies, at least I seemed to keep my same sense of humor intact. It's a great feeling to know that my young self made my old self giggle like one of the very schoolgirls my young self went to school with. I like that thought. And it proves that I'm not alone in the way I think. Or does it? ... Oh well, at least it gave me a laugh. Laughing is the most important thing one can do. Even if we only laugh at ourselves. Wow, this entry is really long.