Some more current pieces on my general state of mind and introspective understanding of life. These were all written in the past two months. Enjoy.
The definition of irony may be attempting to cure your social anxiety in by sitting smack dab in a sea of strangers. Been at this strange little battle for about 30 days now. Out of all the intense inner struggles I’ve been through, this one is a bizarre first. Living life through a decade of deep, engulfing depression and anxiety problems you’d think the eyeballs and judgments would have already caused some type of irrational fear. You my friend, would be wrong.
Maybe now I’m peering too deeply, terrified everyone else is doing the same. The close we become to someone the more we’re forced to open up and share. Even acquaintances on some level. It feels like we know each others stories without explanation or question.
School has always been a fun and fulfilling social experience. Loved the first day of classes. Finding new people to learn from and communicate with was exciting every semester. That plus the joy of learning new things has caused me to commit years upon years of my life to chasing a degree for a job I’m most likely not even suited for.
Self-doubt isn’t anything new. We’re old friends. Reflections have been mocking me for longer than they haven’t at this point. It’s the people that have always continued to keep me grounded beyond all the negative internal bouts. The interpersonal relations. The human connection. The social link. Building someone to care for, to build something to care for.
It’s come to a point where I’ve let those few in and I have no trouble keeping it limited to those few. The big problem is it tends to feel they’re increasingly decreasing. Of course this falls into my hands in some regard. Been becoming detached for some time now. Feels I keep cutting circulation to the portion of my brain that desires socialization. So what now?
Who are you kidding?
Only so much distance traveled until you hit another road bump.
How’s your traction?
Seem to be spinning into oblivion, unsure where this loss of control will leave you directed towards.
Ready to steer?
Grip the path, wheel in hand. Floor it to destiny.
Snow-capped, skyline scaling rocks formed into peaks of promise. This place isn’t nearly as cold as my city. Frostbite isn’t an actual death threat here. Sure, it can get windy enough to remind true mid-westerners of Chicago, but the air it circulates isn’t filled with smog and big business bullshit. The air here smells pure, with traces of peacefully exhaled pot smoke. My sense of smell actually has made it’s first appearance since joining the lung wreckers club back in ’07. The new-found scents admittingly made my stomach turn at first. Only took two days to grow accustom to being the proud owner of all five senses.
Preparing to fly back home today. Today it’s necessary to find my bearings first. This trip was meant to refresh me, both physically and mentally. Well, I learned of her pregnancy yesterday. Brought up more emotions than decipherable at first. I freaked. I’m still freaking. Pacing cliff-side, chugging beer and burning spliffs to the filter. “That should be my family” is what my selfish mind is stuck on. We talked about raising children together. We’d get a house. Have our kids. Live our life. You know, the whole white picket fence dream we had etched out together. Now some stranger is walking my shoes, living my future, stealing my dreams. He’ll teach my should-have-been son or daughter how to play catch, proper manners and most importantly how to respect their mother.
Figures Mr. Right-After-Me would be Mr. Right. Seems to be the case with most women I’ve dated or spent some chunk of relational time with. They must go through a learning period with me. One that’s apparently eye-opening enough for them to finally move on to true happiness with someone else. Maybe they learn their worth after dealing with someone that far from it. Who knew my life would amount to being a walking Dane Cook character…there’s gotta be more.