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I swear, we've reached the point where every post is the same.
I just watched Avatar. I now don't want to go to bed, for two reasons. First, I am still processing it. Second? I'm lonely. Romances, of any level, knock out my self esteem like nobody's business. And let's be honest here: Cameron is one of the best at them. After all, I was crying like a baby over Titanic. But this one...
The movie, at its core, had a strong element of discovering one's self, learning to listen to the world. But it is not a journey one can make alone. It is in our DNA that we are to be coupled, and so I always feel like a failure when I think how that hasn't happened. I know I shouldn't. I know it will come for me, eventually. But what am I to do? Lower my standards? Hope for someone to just walk into my life? No.. none of that will work.
This situation is made worse by my creation desires. I haven't written anything -- seriously written anything -- in months. I don't think I have since I graduated. So what will my legacy be? Can I tell stories like that? Maybe someday. Maybe. But I need to get there first.
So yeah. No one was around to talk to, to feel lonely with. So I post here, in the chance anyone reads. I doubt they do. But I will still try.
So it's been a couple months. As usual.
I'm feeling lonely again.
This usually happens when I see something that is "relevant to my interests," as it were. I won't go into that too much, but needless to say I am sitting here, hoping people I know get on to talk to. I'm not holding out much hope, knowing it is the holidays and all. This is what happens when I have a bunch of time on my hands.
One year. I didn't think it had been that long since I used this. That's fairly sad, to say the least. I'm sure my professors would be chiding me.
And right there's the problem.
Every time I enjoy myself. Every time I experience something beautiful. Every time I have hope. The same thing happens. I see the negative in it. I see the outcome of worst possibility. And I blame myself.
The truth is more complicated than that, to be sure. Let me sum up using a conversation I had with a friend recently:
"(4:25:09 PM) Athenor: You know I can see the patterns in the world fairly easily, right? Call them what you want, but the strings of cause and effect and the ripples of events play out fairly easily for me. I mean, fuck, I figured out Inara's Net without even having to stretch much from my world view.
(4:25:36 PM) *****: Inara's Net?
(4:26:14 PM) Athenor: that's the rational part of my mind. The one that can argue for and against God without blinking, the one who understands the mythological and practical use of the Greek Gods, who can talk Plato and the like, the one who can see how business and accounting and the human mind work and so on, fueled by my empathy and all that.
(4:26:32 PM) *****: okay
(4:26:36 PM) Athenor: (Inara's net is the infinite net of infinite jewels that all vibrate and have no beginning or end.. it's a metaphor of Buddism.
(4:26:43 PM) Athenor: I might have the wrong term, but.. yeah.
(4:26:44 PM) *****: aha
(4:26:52 PM) *****: yeah, google says nothing...
(4:26:53 PM) Athenor: So.. that's the kind of shit that goes through my mind.
(4:27:06 PM) *****: Indra's
(4:27:12 PM) Athenor: Indra, sorry. Blame Joss Whedon.
(4:27:23 PM) *****: kek, i do
(4:28:09 PM) Athenor: So... that's the rational side of my mind. The one that hasn't made up its mind on mysticism because it can see both sides of the coin, and is willing to accept that some things are unexplainable, and a soul could simply be the ripples playing through infinity.
(4:28:25 PM) Athenor: The side that flip-flops on the nature of Jesus.
(4:28:30 PM) Athenor: So take all of that..
(4:28:33 PM) *****: mmkay
(4:28:56 PM) Athenor: And throw in another half of my personality that is emotional, emphatic.. and completely ignores that rational shit, and can't cope with it."
It's crude, but it is my thought process about myself. That friend likes to refer to me as having "Bardic Knowledge." I can pull up answers from anywhere, about anything. They are usually correct if they are general, although I can't come close to some people I know out there. This knowledge stems from the fact that I wish to know as much of the world as I can. I wish to see everything, and to know everything before I die. That's an impossibility, of course. It may even be a reaction to my grandmother, who died of dementia and possibly Alzheimer's. But it is still there. I found a philosophy that seems to work for me in the form of Buddhism, and some of its tenets about the nature of the world. The problem always comes back to forgiveness.
"(4:06:53 PM) Athenor: during the last few years of my grandparents being alive, I couldn't bring myself to visit them. They lived right down the road, and grandma had dimensia.. but.. I only once or twice actually visited them.
(4:07:18 PM) Athenor: I felt, and still do to some degree, that I was a failure in their eyes. Overweight, lazy, unproductive.
(4:07:28 PM) Athenor: And I was afraid of being told that.
(4:07:49 PM) Athenor: In the last month or two.. I wanted to go see them. Every day. Say hi, say how much I loved them. But I didn't.
(4:08:00 PM) Athenor: And then.. within a month of each other, they both died.
(4:08:06 PM) Athenor: That was 1998.
(4:08:19 PM) *****: wow...
(4:08:23 PM) *****: that was a while back
(4:08:25 PM) Athenor: I've only been to their graves 3-4 times, and it is always with a family member. I can't bring myself to visit them on my own.
(4:08:33 PM) *****: *nods*
(4:08:52 PM) Athenor: And every time I learn about Grandma, about how much she did.. about how she was one to change the world..
(4:09:02 PM) Athenor: I can't help but cry, and hate myself.
(4:09:34 PM) Athenor: Naturally, I was thinking about this during the episode about the Chakras on Avatar.. I wish it was that easy.
(4:09:44 PM) Athenor: But I can't stop blaming myself.
(4:10:12 PM) Athenor: Ever since I realized I was going to die when I was 12, attending some event with them... Ever since I've had to face the fact that everyone I love is going to die..
(4:10:17 PM) Athenor: And then to lose them.
(4:10:27 PM) Athenor: And not be able to talk to them... or forgive myself..
(4:10:56 PM) Athenor: This is all coming up because I'm trying to force myself to transition in my life, to go out and do something.. But I don't know what. And that makes me feel worse.
(4:11:21 PM) Athenor: Did you know I can't even bring myself to look people in the eye? I never look customers in the eye unless I force myself.
(4:12:55 PM) Athenor: I know stories are just that.. and I shouldn't base my life on them.. but when I see things like Iroh training, losing his weight and getting strong.. I wish I had that strength. But that's as far as it ever gets with me. And all the time that rational and that emotional side of mine are in conflict, and I can't focus them both together."
Every time I have talked to a counselor, they point to the same problem: I always bring up the negative in relation to myself. I point out the bad, I point out what went wrong. When I imagine conversations, I always play them out negatively. In my mind, this comes with two rationalizations. The first is that I am preparing myself for the worst. The second, is that it is what I truly see as happening.
I get upset over the most trivial things in life. You would not believe how much it hurt to have someone I considered a valued friend point out how much I "whine" in World of Warcraft, or how much I brag, or any of that. I left my friends and have barely talked to her since that due to my feelings being hurt. I almost stopped playing. Hell, I get upset when I win loot. When something comes up that I really want, my stomach clenches and my heart rate increases, and I keep telling myself, over and over, that I won't get it. When I do, if I do, it is a momentary feeling of satisfaction that is powered by a twisted, contorted concoction of both pride and anger. Of course I am happy to get the item... But on the same token, I get upset that others couldn't use it, or that I constantly feel like I should quit playing. If it weren't for the greed, I'd probably give away everything to other players. In fact, I've done that in the past. I gave the friend that hurt me a weapon I truly wanted, not knowing what the future would hold, because I knew I would get better eventually... And because I wanted to make peace with myself for being angry at her. I don't think she knows any of this. Maybe she will now.
I buy and I collect toys to fill a void in my life. They bring me momentary joy based on the coveting of the item, followed by the tactile sensation of playing with them. Every single one of them -- and I own well over 300-400 toys, if not more -- is a pang of regret in my side. They have value to me. I don't want to part with them. I enjoy owning them.. But I feel guilty that I have bought them in lieu of food, or clothing, or transportation, or even some other form of entertainment. I don't wish to lose them either. When I first moved into an apartment with my mother to save money, for months my biggest fear was that I would come home and there would be a fire, and they would all be gone. I didn't care about my bed, or my writings, or my financial records. I cared about my stuff, my computer, and my role playing books. I have often thought that if something horrible would happen, I would take them if at all possible. I know that will get me killed. Yet I still feel guilty owning them, and I feel guilty for thinking of selling them. All this at a time when I barely scrape by financially.
I don't want to leave my job because I do not know what they would do without me. I know they will keep going. I learned that lesson the hard way many years ago. And I don't make enough money here to sustain myself, even having cut out buying toys months ago. But it is a struggle to even look for a job, for fear of hurting them.
I don't want a new job because I am afraid of rejection of my resume, or rejection at the interview. I don't want them saying my life is worthless.
I don't work out because I am afraid I will fail, hurt myself, or worse.
I don't cook because I don't want it to end up badly.
I don't want to prove that the voices in my head are right.
So I cry. I cry, like I am now, and I wonder what worth I have in my life. I look for excuses, look for outside causes, blame everything but the source.
The source of my unhappiness is myself. It's my doing, not anyone else's. It's my fear, and my anger, and my regret, and my sadness... All of this.. All of it. It's me.
I hate myself.
I want to sit here, and type some uplifting tripe. I want this post to be balanced, like a valley passing deep into the darkness before emerging into the rays of sunlight on the far hillsides. But I can't even bring myself to type that right now. What I can say is that as I mentioned earlier, I can the connections in the world in ways that many can't even comprehend. It's why I do so well in my chosen vocation of literary theory; I can pull in information from sources others would never consider, showing causal relationships and ripples of effect stretching forward and back quite a ways. (I still suck at chess, for the record.) It's my strength in this that leads me to being bossy, or put in other terms, a competent leader. Yet I will never, ever allow myself to take up that role.
The truth is, just as I can see the dark outcomes in myself, I can see the light and good outcomes for everything else around me. Ask my close friends about the advice I give sometimes. I can see ways out of the wilderness, and I can generally tell them just what they need to hear to help pull them up and out of whatever they are going through. But I can't do that for myself. Every time I start, I can't face it. I can't own up to what I am seeing, I have to find fault, even if that means creating it myself. Even the things I truly enjoy, such as roleplaying and writing and entertaining and teaching.. Even those I can't bring myself to truly enjoy.
I had another conversation today.
(5:59:30 PM) *****2: you're asking other people for answers that only you can find
(6:00:12 PM) Athenor: I just don't know where to start, or the direction. I was hoping someone out there would know. I mean, I fully understand what you are saying.. or at least I think I do.
(6:01:29 PM) *****2: start from where you are now, I'd advise
(6:01:37 PM) *****2: and what direction do you want to go?
(6:02:02 PM) Athenor: That's the problem. The most I have right now is that I want something meaningful in my life. I don't have a definition of what that means though.
(6:02:19 PM) *****2: then wouldn't it be good to find out what that is?
(6:02:29 PM) Athenor: Yeah...
(6:02:31 PM) *****2: people find meaning in all kinds of things
(6:02:39 PM) *****2: so try some stuff on for size
This fed off another conversation, but it is the gist of things.
For the last few days, all I've wished to do is meditate, to try and find the balance in myself. I don't know if I'm doing it "right" (and that's about all my mind is filled with), so I thought I would instead visit my grandparents and spill this out to them. But if they are out there, in some form, they won't care where I spill myself to. So I turned to my friends, and none of them had answers to help me. So I started typing this.
To me, writing is a form of art and a form of connection. It is a link to the oral tradition, the most ancient of all human artforms. Through words, we are able to outwardly express our innermost desires. Through story, we are able to teach one another the lessons of the past in preparation of the future. Through song, we are able to vibrate our very souls in time with the vibrations of the cosmos, of the earth, of the atoms, of the strings. Words are a pale shadow of that power, but they are still immensely powerful. Just writing this has brought me to tears more than once.
Writing is my meditation. And today, I've written this, fully aware of my fears at having someone else read it. And yet, every moment I told myself, "I will share this with as many people as I can." It is me at my most vulnerable. But it also me at my most pure.
I miss my grandparents. I love them. I love my family, and I don't want to lose them. I don't want my brother to get hurt.. But I am so jealous, and so proud of his going into the Navy. I wish the best of my other brother, and I hope he finds what his heart wants before he gets hurt. I'm so jealous of my best friend, and yet I've never seen a stronger couple outside of my parents and grandparents. I just hope that they learn to accept each other for who they really are, for neither is showing the world their true nature.
I have so many friends in this world. I am so blessed, and I worry about each and every one of them. But they don't need that. They don't need me to support them 24/7.. and I don't need to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. No one asked me to do that, so why am I choosing to? It's not that I'm not strong enough... It's that it isn't my place.
I still remember when I was being babysat by the lady who basically abused me. I had so much fun one day, going to the next door neighbor's up the hill and playing video games, specifically Rad Racer and Chrysalis. She was cute -- I think she was my second crush. At the time, I guess I left without telling anyone, and I freaked everyone out. All I know is that I was in so much trouble with my babysitter. All the happiness I felt was gone, taken from me. I've never forgiven myself for that.
When I was young, I used to be so rough with my brothers. I would roughhouse with them and be angry and smash them.. And they were only babies. I never hurt them physically, to my knowledge. Yet I always feared I did something to them, scarred them, turned them away from what they were meant to be. I've always blamed myself for how they've turned out. I remember when my middle brother used to get into laughing fits, sounding maniacal and evil. I used to pin him down, order him to stop, to stop running around and being wild. I know I did this more than once. I don't know if he remembers. I was there the day my youngest brother tripped on the sidewalk and went face-first down on the concrete, and bounced right back. I couldn't stop that from happening, I couldn't keep him from being hurt.. Yet he wasn't... But I've never forgiven myself.
I got to go to Walk Disney World when I was 12. My brothers never did; their trips with my aunt were postponed till far later. I always felt guilty about that. I hate myself that I got to enjoy myself.
I hate that I can't produce the amazing works of art that I see around me. I hate that when I do do homework, it comes so easy to me when everyone else struggles. I hate that I'm so cold with my mother. I hate that I hate myself so much.
I hate that I'm going to die... and I fear that when I die, no one will remember me. I'm afraid.. I'm afraid, every day, that it will be my last, and I will have done nothing, have only left a trail of possibilities behind. I count down the days until I lose everything in the vain hope that maybe if I do that, someday I will do something worthy of being accepted in my next life. That maybe someday I will better the world, instead of just experiencing it. and the funny part is.. I can't even truly experience it because I am so afraid of what is out there. And because of that, I hate myself.
Every major moment in my life I have defined through failure. Even if it was positive, I see the negative outcome, and blame myself. I don't know if it is possible anymore to go back and think of the positives. I don't know if I can reverse this. And I hate myself for that. Even the things my friends all tell me are amazing, I can't help but think of the missed opportunities, think of what I did wrong. I ran from the last thing that brought me enjoyment... And I am afraid the next time I try I will fail.
I'm afraid of letting my friends down. I'm afraid of letting myself down. And for this I hate myself.
Every day I think about doing exercise. Lately it's been as simple as wanting to do some pushups. I can't bring myself to do them, and for that I hate myself.
I entitled this post "Finding Forgiveness" because I knew that was the goal. I wrote that, and have wrote everything since, without deleting anything but spelling errors. In my mind, all I can think about is the flow, of how I keep dipping into these short, clipped expressions of anger at myself without a counterweight. Even now, this paragraph is being structured to be an anchor. Yet if one looks back, you can see that I am not that far under the surface of the water, and could break through. But it all comes back to that one, single, solitary point.
I have to forgive myself.
And every time I type that, my lip quivers and my eyes tear up. Every God Damned time. I think of some new reason why I hate myself. If it was easy as saying outloud "I forgive myself," then I would've done it a long time ago. Lord knows I've tried. So I guess I sit here now, eyes half closed, tears running down my cheeks, a pile of tissues nearby... And I come to the heart of it. all my life I've blamed myself. All this post has been doing... is blaming myself. All I've been doing for the last hour is pouring out every negative feeling I feel for myself.
I don't know if I am ready to forgive myself. I don't even know if I can. But my friends are right. I have to. I have to find a way to forgive myself, to come to the realization that I am not a bad person, that I have meaning. I have to realize that while my time is limited on this world, it is not something to fear, but something to embrace. I have to learn to get out there and face it.
No one else can forgive me for me. And I won't find what I am doing in this world if I don't forgive myself. It's not too late. So why do I keep crying every time I even start to think about this? It should be easy.. It should be...
But I can't even bring myself to type out the words.. Because I can't feel them... I don't mean them... And yet I want to... I want to forgive myself... It's not my fault. My grandparents didn't die because of me. My mom's father didn't die three days after my 12th birthday because of me. My grandparents on my dad's side weren't disappointed in me. There's nothing wrong with being alone... I am a good person...
It won't be my fault when parents die.. It won't be my fault.. It's not my fault.. It's okay to be happy... To take pride.. I am a good person...
I've helped people.. I've made a difference in the world.. I ... am not going to die forgotten...
I can't ask others to forgive me... I can't ask them to love me, or care for me...
In my mind, I keep telling myself it will be selfish to post this. To make others read it. But if I don't, what will be the point? If I wanted it private I would've written it in my journal.
I am not a bad person.
My grandparents were proud of me. They are proud of me.
I'm smart. I'm a nice personn. Someday.. Someday I will do something that will change the world. I know it. I feel it.
My life... is my responsibility. I am ashamed... No. No, I wanted to erase that. I can't. But it isn't the truth either. The truth is.. I had a happy, loving childhood. My parents supported me in every way possible, as did my teachers and my friends. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I have nothing to be sorry for. I am the product of my past, and the pasts of my entire family and friends. That is reincarnation. That is the ripples that go out through the world, the cosmic energy, the collective memory of the universe. the simple fact is that my atoms are here.. right here.. and they influence the world.
Good or bad.. Large or small.. Dark times or light. I am here. I am myself. And I can do no more than what I am capable of, so I shouldn't blame myself for it.
I am not a failure. I have not failed yet. I have a bachelor's of arts, I have a job, I have friends, and somewhere out there is my soulmate. I am not as healthy as I could be, but I can change that.
I have nothing to be ashamed at. I have no reason to hate myself.
the answer...
the answer is that I have to find forgiveness for hating myself.
I don't need to be ashamed. I don't need to hide myself. I don't need to speak in whispers. I need to shout it to the world.
I forgive myself.
Day 2, Sunday, I didn't exercise. I just felt dead.
Day 3, Monday. 45 minutes at 2.6 MPH, 1.5% incline. I did it immediately upon waking, which felt awesome. I also got to see another dude exercising, so I got to see how to properly do reps and rest. I don't think I'm ready for that.
Day 4, Tuesday. 28 minutes at 2.6 MPH, weight loss routine (4 minutes at 0% incline, 4 minutes at 4%, repeat). I was fine until 4 minutes before the end, when suddenly I started sweating profusely among other things. It was probably my fault for forgetting my water bottle. I also did it in the afternoon instead of the morning or night, which I'm sure had some impact.
My diet is also going downhill. I broke tonight and went out for a late night fast food run. I hate doing this, but I couldn't help myself! Still no soda, which is a plus, but I need to cut it out altogether. My willpower is just crappy.
I did buy some celery and lettuce today. A start.
Day 1:
Food intake (to the best of my knowledge)
McDonalds sausage & egg biscuit, breakfast burrito, and orange juice.
Plain Bratwurst & 1 oz lays chips (anyone else think these things taste like crap? But hey, free food)
3-4 packages of 100 calorie snacks
3 cookies & creme kisses
turkey and cheese sandwich with salad dressing
a fairly large serving of spaghetti and meatballs, with parmesean cheese and a side salad with ranch dressing.
Exercise:
43 minutes on a treadmill, average speed 3.0 mph, 1% incline
All day. All fucking day I told myself I wouldn't do the exercise. I told myself I'd wuss out, or I'd not be able to pull myself up and do it. I knew I'd miss the first day of my new life, setting a pessimistic stance going forward.
But I did it. It was at 9 PM and it fucking sucked, but I did it. It's a start. I don't know yet if I am ready to start working out first thing in the morning. But even though I probably pushed myself harder than I should've, I can say that it felt good to do this today.
I want to specify that I will not be keeping a food diary for more than a week or so. First, it gets annoying. Second, you all don't need to hear about it. Third, my memory sucks. But at least in this early going, spelling out what my daily intake is will help me get a grasp on things. In retrospect, I'm actually surprised by how little I ate today. The copious amounts of water and 6 hours out in the sun must've helped.
Hopefully the day will come when missing my exercise will be the abnormality. Until then, here's to hoping for better days.
Oh, and in the next few days I'll be posting a picture of myself, shirtless. I need to see it, and I need to track my progress. Without a scale in the house that works, my physical appearance is all I have to go off of.
To begin with... Let's wipe the slate clean. The posts below are negative, for the most part. They represent me in a bad place. Today, perhaps, I'm in a worse place. I don't know. But I do know it is time for a change.
Let me back up a week. Last Sunday, I found a copy of Wii Fit. I picked it up, knowing full well that I was over the 330 lbs weight the game will support. It's okay, I said; I would just work and exercise, getting my weight down to a point where it would work. I figured I was 340 lbs, so a month or two should do it.
In the last week, I've worked out exactly once -- a 25 minute jog on a treadmill at 3 MPH with a variable incline. I have also eaten at Taco Bell at least 3 times, eaten a pound of meat and sandwich fixings, and bought (and almost emptied) a bag of Cookies & Creme Hershey's Kisses. And, much to my chagrin, I've spent about $2,000 in the last 3-4 weeks. Some of it was necessities, but most of it was not. And a large chunk was spent on food. But that's a discussion for another time, although it is heavily related to what I am starting here.
So fast forward to today. After an excellent dinner at Denny's of a skillet breakfast thingy with my mother, we went to Bed, Bath & Beyond for reasons.. well.. beyond my knowledge. Mom wanted to buy some cooking supplies, I believe. Anyways, while I was there I decided to stop by the scales.
Now, my home scale is, to put it bluntly, a piece of crap. It claims I am anywhere between 335 and 340, but the measurement depends heavily on where exactly I'm standing on the old analog scale. Seeing the metal warp when one steps on it is not encouraging to say the least.
So I took the opportunity to try out the in-store models. But they weren't working. So I went for an analog model.
390.
Crushed, I went to a digital model rated for 400 lbs. Getting it to work finally, I got it to read -- 400.2
It was official. I was fat. And much, MUCH fatter than I was expecting. I always told myself that I would never weight 400 pounds. It couldn't happen to me. I was always big, and it was healthy, right? This visit crushed those thoughts. Suddenly, it became real for me. I realized it wouldn't just be a quick fix to make Wii Fit work. It would require a complete change in my life.
Call it selfish if you want. Call it conceited, or stupid. But suddenly, in my heartbreak and horror, I had a goal. I had a reason to pull my ass out of bed and work on my health. And I had justification for being worried.
So why this post? Why this new beginning?
It's simple. I don't trust myself to be held accountable. I've been told getting started is the hardest part. Well here we are -- it's time to start.
Here's my plan, as it is in my head.
My long term goal is to get under 300 lbs. This is my target. I figure it will take a couple years, but it will happen.
My mid-term goal is to be in shape for graduation. I want to be healthy. I want to be able to jog without getting winded. I don't want chairs to break under me (don't ask). Having Wii Fit usable will be nice, but it is not part of my aim with this.
My short-term goal is to start eating healthy and get started into an exercise routine. This will probably be harder for me than just saying it, but it has to happen. I can't just sit here and expect things to get better.
I'm currently planning 30 minutes to an hour, DAILY. To start, it's simply going to be walking. There's a nearby park, so I am thinking that if I walk to there and back with my dog, Bebe, that should meet both our needs. Plus, by adding in the care of my dog as a stipulation, it should help me keep on track -- she does not care what day of the week it is.
Dietary wise, I'm not sure what to change off the bat. Healthy snacks are a must, as I seem to always need to have something in my mouth. Celery and veggies are first up, sugar-free gum is a must, and I've already cut soda out of my diet. I am also planning on getting in touch with a dietician through my university. Given my love of food, balancing things will be a bitch. But I know it can be done.
So there's one more component to this: you. I may just be talking to the wind here, but my hope is that even that action will help. Therefore, this blog will become my diary of my progress. I will record the work I did, and hopefully this record, combined with feedback and comments, will keep me on track. To be frank, my plan is to walk an hour, read 30 minutes, and write 30 minutes. But those latter parts are not essential right now, and deal more with my professional life.
So there we have it. The basic skeleton of my plan for life, going forward. It's not going to be easy... Oh, far from it. But it needs to be done. I refuse to be a 400 pound fatass who spends his life staring at a computer monitor. That's not me. I'm putting my foot down.
Hopefully I will stick to this tomorrow, even though I have a 4-5 hour commitment that requires me to be up in 6 hours. To be frank, if I could I would get out of that and just exercise. I'm almost jealous of the amount of fun my mom is having doing Wii Fit. That should be me on that balance board, right?
I will change my life. End of story. I am not using the fact that it's summer as an excuse, nor any other excuse. This is my life. And I'm taking hold of it.
Wow. Today feels like a weird day. It's snowy out, I slept in, I got to read about Lancelot being a dick, and I am under 330 for the first time in who knows how long.
Around the beginning of the month, I decided it was time to make some substantial changes to my life. It would start with getting psychiatric care as the cornerstone, but I also intended to get in shape, start eating healthier, and work on my self esteem. So far, every goal I've set for myself, sans getting in shape, has pretty much worked out. I've cut almost all soda out of my diet, I'm trying to stick to 100 calorie sweets, I don't eat out at fast food save for sandwich shops, I've cut down my grease intake, and I'm eating more rice and veggies.
I've lost 10-20 pounds if the scales are accurate. That is insane, to put it mildly. I'm sure most of it is due to flushing my system with water and cutting out all the unhealthy junk, but it is still a noticeable difference. I don't feel like I have to struggle to get into some of my pants anymore. This alone is a great comfort, considering that I really, REALLY need to go out clothes shopping.
So I mentioned I wasn't really in shape still. Well, that's to be expected, as I haven't been working out. Just walking to and from classes and what not has increased my stamina such that I don't get too winded chasing after a bus, but that is still for short periods of time. I need to get it up. I fully intend to start doing that tonight.
Well... Intend is the wrong word. Promise? hope? Who knows. I'm still hesitant because I don't really have any workout clothes, but that is a stupid reason not to work out.
The following is a copypasta from the forum I've been talking about... and that I can't fucking seem to get away from.
[M]y brother is aiming to enlist in 3 months, if he can get to the right weight and physical endurance.
I feel bad for the guy. He's as smart as I am, but all his life he's been told he isn't. He is exceedingly stubborn and refuses to listen to directions, and he doesn't want to go to college. All he cares about are guns and cars and advanced 3d modeling and animation that would blow your mind to see. Many times he's tried to work out how certain mecha and vehicles and spaceships would work in the real world.
He has a bright future, he just needs dicipline. I know the military will teach him that... but I am just mortally terrified of him going off to war. Well, that, and having to become the sole sub-leaser of my current apartment with mom, which I'm trying to get out of.
(Yes, it's a dumb joke. Sue me.)
It is taking every ounce of willpower I have to keep from posting at the forum I linked earlier. I already re-activated my account (perhaps deleting it again, even as a symbolic gesture, will help?), and I've written 2-3 posts in just the last 2 hours that I have decided against and erased.
It's like a drug, I swear. I talked to some people from the forum last night, and they were sympathetic, so I think the "break" path is best for now. I wish I were better at taking jokes.
One of the problems with being socially awkward is that you are never sure how to take things. For instance: Today I called a friend, and asked if she wanted to go out to lunch. Now, in my mind, she is just a friend and nothing more, but I am constantly worried if I am thinking inappropriately, or if she is thinking inappropriately, or any manner of things. It is these kinds of thoughts that stop me from actually talking to people. So on the spur of the moment I called (after I was sure it was a class break) and got her answering machine. She called back later, and after a little bit of phone tag she said that our last lunch was a fluke due to her teacher not showing up for class.
Now I'm all stressed out. I don't even know why, seeing as how we are friends, and we exchanged e-mail for just this reason. But I am still worried that I stepped over a line or something. It's ridiculous, to say the least.
So how does that relate to the fallout of two days ago? Well, every fiber of my being wants to post to my old forum and ask them for advice, to see if I screwed up or if I am justified in my concern. I know the response I'll get -- either I'll be ignored or ridiculed, and rude jokes about sex will be made. In the end, it will be a waste of time, seeing as how the people I actually go to for social advice aren't on. Yet the urge is still there, to return to somewhere comfortable and find a sympathetic ear to listen.
I need more friends. Yet I'm afraid of screwing up with those I have.
We're one week into my medication, plus a day. God I hope this stuff helps, but I suspect a good chunk of it will just be learning how to cope.
It's 9:26 AM as I start this post. About a quarter of a mile away, my class is getting ready to start. I don't intend to go. This will be my second time missing this class.
I am not usually one to play hookie. For one thing, my academic career was almost destroyed by my missing classes back in 2001, thanks to my first run-in with a mandatory attendance policy. I was pulling an A in that class, too. More than that, however, is the realization that I am here to get an education, and I value that education. I have done everything in my power to attend classes.
Except today. And personally, I'm glad.
I am not going to bitch about my professor in this class. Really, who wants to sit around and hear that kind of verbal diarrhea? I am just going to say that as of yet, no one in the class has scored a 100% on any assignment (this is a 100-level course), and we were given a quiz the day after our major exam. This, combined with a teaching style that is like watching paint dry, already makes me indisposed to not care about this class. I'm currently pulling a low B in it. This teacher will not be getting a good evaluation.
So why am I playing hookie today? It's not like I want to. However, the professor made it very clear: If we don't have an assignment done, don't bother coming in. I don't (it's basically a grade on your ability to take notes), so I didn't go.
When I do this, my schedule gets screwed up and the amount of free time I have just beats me over the head. It's annoying, because when I get bored I spend money and I dwell on things. I'm currently writing this in the hopes that I won't go and spend money. Also, you can probably tell from the half-constructed way I'm writing that I'm not 100% awake. Phantom Hourglass is still fucking up my sleep schedule. That's the sign of a good game, right there.
So here I am. 3 1/2 hours till my next class. Talking to all of you. I have to assume/hope that someone is out there, because I need to stay optimistic about this. But man... Hopefully today I can relax.
First thing's first: Ignore my previous comment. You know, all 2 of you that are reading this. I realized this morning that posting it was extremely narcissistic, and not healthy. Then again, maybe it is healthy for someone who has very low self-esteem, as it shows they are starting to get confidence in themselves. I do not know.
So where does today bring me? Well, to begin with I am planning to use this a lot more often. I know, I know, I say that every so often and then completely abandon it. But this time, I think I'm going to stick to it. I need a place to vent, and to rant, and the like. It's healthy. Not venting and ranting lead to internalization and repression, which can get dangerous. I saw the results of that about two weeks ago, and have since been trying to let the pressure out slowly. Last night was a big step towards that.
For the last year I've been posting at a certain place. I am not going to link to it, because as of this news posting only the people who post there know about this blog. Now, in my time at that community I have seen the management change hands, and other things happen that make me worried about the site in whole. That is my nature -- I worry about things I shouldn't. I'm also generally a nice, outgoing guy who tries his best not to insult others. These two things, when combined, lead to a personality that has been described as abrasive, nagging, whiny, controlling, or what not. I can't say I can deny all this.
Anyways. For quite a while at this forum I have seen patterns emerge that worry me as a whole, in terms of history repeating itself and totalitarian regimes. This is, without a doubt, an extreme exaggeration, but I cannot think of a better way to describe this. It's like a tempest in a teacup. Things have been getting worse as of late, and any time I bring them up (no matter the manner in which I do so) they usually get brushed off. Last night I voiced a bit of concern over things being posted without proper spoiler tags. In retrospect, I may have messed up and read the spoiler wrong, or something. I don't know. I skipped over the spoilers, because it was for a game I was currently playing (hence my quip). Now, every thing I post on this forum is pretty much read as me either getting extremely excited or extremely angry over it. I can't claim this assessment is wrong -- I do get excited over certain things, and even when I am just kind of "posting for the sake of posting" it gets interpreted as me going into a fit. This is the characterization that has been applied to me. That is my fate. So when I posted this quip, it was taken as me objecting, even after I apologized. Then came the joke rules.
I had a vague knowledge that the powers that be had instituted a "joke rule" system. I didn't know its extent and nature, because frankly I find such things to be childish. Yes, this is coming from a guy who collects toys. Anyways, out of no where 2 people were calling for me to get "punished" (my word) under the joke rule forum, and started yelling for mods and the like. I later learned they also used the "report to moderator" button. So I went and looked at the joke rules, and found it was essentially an arbitrary system whereby the powers that be can alter one's profile information on a whim. To me, this struck me as curious, seeing as how we, as a forum, chided other forums for instituting similar procedures. I again voiced my concern.
Cue a 2 page argument from me before I realized the futility, followed by 5 pages of "commentary."
Now, this alone wouldn't have pissed me off. I've gone along for the ride before with people abusing power or the users of the forums thinking they run the ship. It's the nature of the forum (which I'll explain at a later blog post, but let's just say that a forum born of anger isn't exactly a friendly environment). However, during this exchange I personally felt insulted by 2 posts that had no other content than to levy insults. These are against the actual rules, and are actionable offenses. Nothing happened, and the commentary continued unabated and without comment for quite a few pages.
It has been dawning on me for a couple weeks that my personality just does not fit with this place anymore. In the past, I've been stubborn and stuck around, mainly thanks to moderators who were sympathetic and saw many of the ills that I did. However, that seems to have disappeared. In IM conversation, I got told that if I wanted to survive at this site, I needed to start insulting back, be vicious, and all that. I said that was completely opposite of my personality. I was then asked why I was still at the forum. I didn't have an answer.
If you have stuck with me this long, congratulations. I tend to get wordy. Here's the summary.
I'm taking a break from the forum I used to call home. I don't want people there to defend me, and I don't want to see my friends take flak. I know that this blog post will be discovered soon, hence the narcissistic comments at the beginning. But I needed to get this off my chest. Even if I come back to the previous forum, it will not be in the old capacity. That time is over. I personally supported the site because I believed in its original vision, and I still do to this day. I hope the founders find what they are looking for, and never give up their dreams, as they are good people. I hope the new administrators realize they have a ticking time bomb on their hands, and you don't need to be a student of sociology to see the place is turning into a breeding ground for anger and hate. I wish them the best of luck. It's not my place to help them or to guide them.
These last two weeks have been about getting my life back on track. I feel that leaving my old home is part of that. To my friends on that site: I will be on AIM, so feel free to get in touch. You'll find I'm a lot more personable and can take a joke better on it, when I don't have the forum interface to cloud my thoughts.
This is my farewell, guys. Call it dramatic, but it's been a good year.
Internet. Serious business, neh?
Hm.
I'm planning to make a post about how I seem to be the embodiment of Heisenburg's Uncertainty principle (whether or not I am using that term properly), but in the meantime I want to pass on a word of advice:
If it's 12:30 AM and you can't sleep, and you just happen to decide to do a bit of repair work to your computer, don't. You may just discover that in the month of new residence (which I'll have to explain someday), your computer has picked up enough dust to create ping-pong ball sized dustballs.
Obviously this lesson was learned tonight by me. I'm going to be hacking up a lung all night, because I was stupid enough to take the opportunity to dust it.
Well, let's see. I'm posting this just to get a less depressing post on the top of my blog. Nothing more.
For those interested, I can mention I'm back on anti-depressants. They haven't really kicked in yet, but I do feel better as a whole. I'm still somewhat irritable, but that will pass.
It's amazing how easy it is to get depressed. Like... really easy. So easy that I could spend all this thread wallowing in self-pity.
But I'm not going to do that. Oh, to be sure, I'm going to be venting my frustrations... but I'm not going to feel sorry for myself. I'm here because of my own damn fault, and I recognize this.
I'm down to pretty much nothing to my name, once my rent and bills are factored in. The college giving me $2k less than last semester really screwed me up. And I've been too afraid to ask around for loans again.
I skipped my prose classes all this week. Why? Because I've fallen way behind in Moby Dick, and refuse to read it.
Indeed, I've missed a total of 4 classes this week. Luckily it's all just one week, but it doesn't reflect well on me.
I still don't have a job.
My brother's been staying with me for the last 2 weeks, as he has a job down here but no where to stay. He'll be paying me for this, but I haven't decided how much, and he hasn't paid me as of yet.
My mother has been coming over with larger frequency due to my brother, and leaving incredibe guilt trips. It's been hard to concentrate.
All in all, it's been shitty.
Yet I'm not wallowing. No sir. No, I've just been sitting here, apathetic. I know what I need to do to fix things, yet I don't seem to want to do it.
Maybe now that I've laid my problems out, I will be able to .
... Part of me really wants to go and find a real job, a full-time job. I'm not sick of school per say, I just feel like I'm not contributing. I can't drop out now... but not taking a summer break was a mistake.
But enough rambling. I'm off to start setting things right. I hope.
Wow. It's been May since I have updated this? I thought it had been newer than that.
I just wanted to post a quick update to get this alive. The situation hasn't changed much for me. I'm pulling a 3.25 GPA at University, something I am proud of. I've also gone through my counseling, although I have stopped taking the medication that I was given during it due to lack of money.
I've decided to start scheduling my life. I need to schedule my bills, lest I forget about them. I need to transcribe my syllabuses so I can be sure I don't miss an assignment. And most of all, I need to start tracking my finances.
We'll see how this all goes.
Alright, a real post for today. This is being made because I am procrastinating on a paper I need to write, but also because I simply want to get this off my chest.
This semester, I've had good classes and bad classes. My bad class just happened to be because I found early on that I don't like teaching, and I waited too long to get out.
For those of you who don't know, becoming a public school teacher these days is insane. And not insane in the good way, oh no. Insane as in a bureaucratic nightmare that only a politician or a lawyer could dream up. And what's worse.. the requirements are low. It's not like they are getting rocket scientists to teach. They just want to bore the potential candidates to death first.
Teaching is a labor of love. These days, that is true more than ever. Why? Because only a natural born teacher would go through all this insane paperwork and accreditation, only to accept a horribly paying job where you are treated like crud day in and day out. I've heard private schools pay more and require less, but they also usually hire grad students or the like.
I've decided it isn't the teacher's fault. She's a nice enough lady, in her own way, although I can't ever see myself being friends with her. However, the class is structured horribly. It's loose, and is a thinly veiled attempt at having us fill out paperwork with some busywork in between. This is not the kind of environment that should be presented to teachers upon first entering the system. More power to those who make it... It's just not for me.
So here I sit, putting off writing my final paper on this class. I'm currently failing by 2 points, and a fully filled out packet would net me 20 at the most, which would bring me to a C. I explained my situation to the professor, but I left out the part that I didn't come anywhere near to completing the official requirements. I could claim easily that health problems or the like caused me to not complete them, but that isn't the truth. The truth is that by that point, I had stopped caring. I wanted this class to be over with and forgotten about, never to be touched again. It was a mistake.. A horrid mistake that is now going to haunt the rest of my college career. I don't know if I am okay with that, but at the same time I don't think I can change it.
Put in simplest terms, I used teaching as an excuse to go to ISU, because I didn't want to appear to be throwing away my life. Now, at the crossroads, I see that was a far worse mistake. And I don't have the courage to fess up to it.
What a night. Spurred on by an upset body and a positively throbbing twisted ankle, I had two sets of dreams. I thnk they are interrelated, and already they are growing fuzzy. Wait. 3 dreams.
Dream 1: In the fictional town most of my dreams seem to be set in these days (I'll explain it sometime). I left my job, or school, or something, and ended up in Japan. I got to watch a team assemble a Rube Goldberg device, although I never saw the end result. There were about 10 people working -- the lead was wearing a suit that looked like the little robot guys from Megaman Legends. I went to thank him, and a lanky guy (I think he's in my Eng. 130 class) told me to be careful.. but I just bowed and said thank you. I think I had asked to help at one point, and was turned down. When I got back home, everyone was worried because I was gone for 2 weeks without warning anyone.
This dream also may have incorporated Harry Potter elements, namely the castle. I don't think much magic was involve, just the setting.
Dream #2: This may have been a continuation of the first. It was on a beachside, where the upper floor of a building was on a boardwalk. We spent time talking, socializing, and the like.. Until it was time for the place to close. Only.. it wasn't. Their particular thing was closed, and the front door was closed, but the bar and the upper doors weren't. This led to much confusion, and laughter from whomever I was talking to over people thinking the place was closed.
Dream #3: I was with a group of at least 4-5 women and a couple guys. We were having a hell of a time, the building we were in was right off a train switchyard. We were all heading somewhere... One guy was pushing for us to get on the train faster, to move on. Due to the partying, however, the train pulled up and I was still getting ready. I think I was getting dressed. I saw out the window that the train was moving, and a shadow was chasing it.. A human running down the platform. I get dressed, and walk out to the main room that we were in.. And my friends started appearing, one by one. They said something to the effect of "We wouldn't leave you behind." Or, at least, I think that's what they said. I can't remember.. I hope they said that. That's what I felt.
This part's harder to admit. Next... One of my best friends from childhood showed up. He said hi, I introduced him. Everyone mingled and the like.. then my friend called attention to the group, and said how he was having a sex-change operation. He talked about how you could already hear his voice rising, and inflections forming in it. I think I glanced and caught a shot of him in his underwear -- we were outside, mind you, with the sun beating down (I think an artifact of the real sun on my face). Before I could react or see everyone's reactions, I noticed there were still 2 people out on the tracks, seeming oblivious. Now, the tracks were like 6 wide.. and being dream tracks, defied all laws of physics. They were all at different heights, and looking down I saw oncoming trains. I couldn't see exactly what track they were on. Everyone started yelling for them to move, to get off the tracks, to come to them.. A blare from the train told them to stay where they were. They started running towards us, one stumbling and the like, the other oblivious. At the last moment, the first (a guy) grabbed the second (a girl) and dove literally inches away from the track as the fast moving diesel hauler flew by, kicking up dust at them from the track. By moving, they had moved onto the track the train was on. What's weirder is that immediately after, an Acela came by on the uppermost track, going full speed, and then skipping tracks without a switcher, flying and landing perfectly on the track the diesel just went by on. If the two hadn't moved, the Acela would've gotten them -- on either track.
Before any more could really be looked into with this dream, I woke up. My dreams tend to run in narrative form, so this is generally the order if not the details.
Whee! My first session's done. That went well, despite the lady reminding me of my previous bosses. -.-
While she couldn't say anything definitive, she outlined that I seem to have a multi-layered problem. Depression, anxiety, and complications of ADD. Whee.
I promise you, if anyone is reading this, that I will get to the water poem, or reflection, or whatever I have thought about! Time is doing wonders on those thoughts, but the memories don't fade -- and if they do, I can just go see the fountain again.
I'm debating getting photos of my family for similar reasons. My memories and images of them aren't fading... but I fear they might. I found out my dad was a natural redhead today, for instance -- all this time I thought his hair was brown, like mine. I thought my youngest brother was an anomaly. The things you'll learn, eh?
My soul is caught in an interesting trap right now. On one hand, I don't want to do jack. The looming homework, the reams of paper do in the next 2-3 days.. I don't want to touch it. I want to hide in my apartment, and find any excuse not to do them.
On the other hand.. I'm reading a novel that is making my heart soar. It's not the novel itself.. it's the thought of reading. I haven't felt this way in a long time, and I am infinitely grateful to my English 100 teacher for the feeling. I hope that I can call her a friend outside of school. I think I can... I just don't want any kind of integrity issues to pop up. It's nice having intellectual friends that you can talk to in the flesh once again.
So right now, my soul wants to cry out, to enjoy the day, to be free of its burdens. Reality and my own issues are keeping it back... and it kind of sucks. If I let myself go, I won't get anything done. If I hide in fear, I won't get anything done. So I'm trying to walk the middle line.. and remember that I am doing things that I enjoy. I keep telling myself this with the books -- reading them means getting to engage in dialog, which is the ultimate goal. It's just so much damned reading, due to the week off the teacher had to take. I'm trying to catch up.. I am.
I also need to clean my apartment one of these days. I read a recent story about the worst roommate ever, and it kind of made me feel bad. The hope is that I'll get my act cleaned up, and I'll feel better. We'll see.
(I want patio furniture as well, to sit out on my porch-esque slab of concrete and watch the lake from a safe spot. )
Last week, I didn't think my life would have a happy ending. This week, I feel better about it. We'll see how the counselling goes -- I've been clinging to it as a chance for release, and a chance to see what's what. I keep saying I'll get screened for meds, but I don't know if that's what I want. But one battle at a time.
Forgive the rambling nature. I'm just trying to keep things straight in my head.
Today the fountain in front of the English hall was turned on. I spent about 30 minutes staring into it, contemplating its as a metaphor, on its scientific basis, on chaos theory, on the litter around it, on the things it had witnessed..
I was, and am, compelled to write a story on the experience. I haven't been compelled to write like that for a while.
In the end, I got in a conversation with a custodian that was getting it working. He was talking about how high maintenance it was, and how students would put bubbles in it, and the fish smell. I said I was glad it was here, and he agreed -- he liked it too, and thought it was worth it.
In the end, I shook his hand and thanked him. I felt I needed to.
Well this is interesting.
Today I refused to get out of bed. Don't ask me why, but it felt good laying there, hearing my snooze go off every 10 minutes, and seeing how the eternity of time kept shrinking between. I enjoy the feeling when time seems to stand still, where I can think about everything and a day , look over, and see only 2-3 minutes have passed. It's rare these days that I get to feel that way.
I then overslept once the alarm passed the 1 hour mark.
So about 45 minutes before my first class, I turn on the radio...
I've already decided I won't go to my first class. Looking over my schedule, I haven't missed any points for not attending, so I feel confident that if I miss one, it won't be a huge blow. However, I just can't face my teacher. I have not turned in an assignment like I was supposed to, and therefore I just can't face her. I was thinking of skipping most of today... But that would be pointless.
So I turn on the radio. And guess what -- they are talking about depression. And not just situational depression, mind you, but full blown clinical depression. One of the hosts talks about how she can't stand to even do anything or leave the house, and how she has to fake it on the radio. I sat there with my jaw open, listening to these people being so frank -- with things that exactly match what is going on in my life. They even recited a story about Lincoln's depression.
I was in counselling for a year last year to fight my depression. It helped, but only marginally, but I didn't have the means or the desire to go on medication. Now is a different ballgame. Yet surprise surprise, I have put off making the call to set up an appointment. It's not fear, I don't think -- I don't fear counselors anymore. I think this is just good old depression, rearing its ugly head.
I need help. I'm going to go call now.
... And the appointment's made. Next Monday.