Ill.

I have gotten sick more times this year than any other years I’ve been alive.
I wonder if it’s a sign,
A symbol that I am doing something wrong
Or I am pushing myself too much
It doesn’t matter really,
Can’t stop until I get what I want.
So sickness, you get to take a back seat, to my life.

Sorry.

Advertisements

A Touch of Solitary

Dark nights, blank walls, and quiet rooms. I find myself here frequently. It’s a yearning for interaction, a desire to connect that settles within my heart like snow in a snow globe, just waiting for me to shake things up.

I grew up learning not to rely on people. I learned that all I needed were the worlds that I created for myself as a barrier to keep out the chill. I chose not to involve people with the goings on in my life, and it made things simple.
As I’ve grown older, I realized that it was unsustainable. Eventually, I had to venture out and face the world.  This is partly because of my aspirations, and partly because I, unfortunately, was exposed to the alternative to my fantasy, reality; given experiences that provided me then unknown satisfaction.

It’s been ramping up, my desire to connect with people, with each year that passes. I am a mixed breed of one part introvert and one part extrovert which makes things complex. I want to stay home and work, but I crave the adventure of conversation that awaits around every corner.
People are important in my life; it’s a fundamental part of myself that seeks out these relationships. Each one is providing me a key ingredient for getting through the week. It’s within them that I get to enjoy deep conversation, talking about controversial issues, conversing about the basic building blocks of the human condition

I don’t know how much is enough, or when I will be satiated with interaction but when I am not purposefully alone that I feel the chill and pull to going out and connecting.  I do take time for myself when I need it,  but it’s like going to a cafe; when you are there alone on purpose, it can be a sweet relief but when you are waiting for someone to come it can be awkward and nerve-wracking.

Life has taught me something; I can’t expect these relationships to appear out of thin air either.  If I want something I have to ask for it; people won’t simply know I need it. Last year I had expected it all to come together without any effort, which leads me down a lonesome road.  This year I know that I want to work for what I want and how important these relationships are to me.

So, to end this, I want to say that thank you all for the conversations we’ve had, the stories that we’ve told, and the experiences we’ve shared. You all are important to me in different ways, so know that you make a difference. I hope to see you soon.
And to all the people I haven’t met and talked to yet, I am thrilled to make your acquaintance.

Mixed Messages

A message is only as good as its delivery.
If given a message that is negative or critical it’s important that you include a methodology of how to fix the problem, or the message falls flat. It’s then only half a message, an incomplete phase that unfortunately can resonate within someone. It’s these messages that we receive that make a difference in how we perceive the world.

I am a critical person, not on those around me but myself. I am infinitely hard on myself, because of my belief that if I want something to change I have to be the catalyst for it.  I found that I have been giving myself these unfinished messages, these incomplete statements of criticism.   Stopping at the what I am doing wrong, and never getting to how to fix it.

In this state, life just gets heavier and becomes hard to be productive.  Things that I have been working on for months become more involved when I can’t reach the expectation I desire.  Habits I have form become weights that bind me.  It’s in these times that I have to recollect the purpose which I am working.  Positive changes shouldn’t feel like punishment, but when with a crossed message, it can feel grueling.

I realize that my posts have been concentrating on this negative aspect. These lessons I have been learning through blood, sweat, and tears are what spend the time to write.  It’s then when I continue to struggle, that I give no closure to the problem, and the weight is placed once more on my shoulders.  I continue to take the time to look inwardly to find other lessons I can learn, consequently never finishing the lessons that came before.

One or two of these things is something I can handle, but as the weight stacks I become lethargic. It’s this closure, a focus on the solution, rather than the problem that I need.  The lesson the weight is to come to terms with the issues that I face, and allow myself leeway to finish what I have started.

What I need most is to finish my messages, allow myself to end on a high note.  Giving myself a path to travel allows me some relief.  So I will give myself these words, finish the day on a high note, and give myself closure to the problems that I face.
So I will end this with the message that I can make things better, change the way the messages comes across and continue to push forward into making these messages to create a brighter future for myself and those around me.  After all, I am the catalyst of changing my fate.

On The Open Shore

I had a dream recently.

I was walking shoeless on a beach.  Each step I took, I felt the cold sand envelop my toes. The sand was soft and unbroken, each time I stepped I shattered the tension of the surface, cracking the world around it. There was though a pleasant wind that blew. The wind danced around and moved through me as if it were as familiar as a memory.

I look to see where I was, but the horizon filled white with fog; I could not see far enough to know. Looking about, all there was were the valleys of displaced sand from the path I already took.  I could not go back, but I did not know where else to go.
So I trudged slowly listening to the sound of the waves and the wind.  I approached the sea, but the wind became biting and unrelenting. Pelting sand at me, with every strike feeling like leather cracking across the skin. The flurry made seeing more difficult; I covered my face for protection, how was it I was to find my way? I listened to the waves to guide me in this storm.

I kept walking, and the wind kept blowing.  Suddenly my feet felt wet, as the sand became robust and easier to traverse. The wind stops, but so do the waves. I follow the wet sand, hoping to find the sea. I listen and look, but there are no waves and no wind just wet sand beneath my feet. I keep walking until I see a shadow, and I am swallowed whole.

How to Define A Line

It has come to my attention that I have trouble defining who I am. It is something that I look to others for insight.  Using others a mirror of sorts, looking for feedback. I can tell you that when everything is right, this isn’t a problem, but when thing takes an unexpected turn sometimes, my whole identity is shaken.

It’s not as dramatic as it sounds, it takes time for the layers of me unravel.  The longer the detour, the more I have trouble with this.  Only after unraveling everything I am gets called into question. Who am I?  What do I mean to other? What role I play in their lives? How do they see me and is that how see myself? These are questions I have asked myself FAR too many times.  I try to be as self-aware as possible.  Knowing my faults and working on them. I have a worry I cannot see everything, and that I am missing a glaring imperfection in my personality.  I am hard on myself for that reason, looking for errors so that I can fix them.  That is under the juvenile pretense if I can fix myself enough people will love me.

It’s silly and ridiculous, the notion of needing to be good enough for love.  I can give a long history of reasons as to why I feel this way, and knowing enough about people gives me the insight that that idea is purely internal. I know it’s wrong to feel this way, but my other concern is the feeling come and goes as it pleases, not to when it pleases me.

At this point, I have trouble with who I am.  Doubt is born within my heart and mind.
I am smart, but I don’t get treated like I’m smart so maybe I’m not.
I am fun to be around, but no one seems to want to be around me so maybe I’m not.
I am dependable, but no one depends on me so maybe I’m not.
It’s these ridiculous things that I hate in myself.  It whispers in my ear, telling me that I am not, and I will never be.

I am consistent, having learned to fight through it. I found traits based on my perceptions.
I am healthy.
I am a deep thinker.
I am serious and have a dry wit.
Adding to my lists, I am creating a building that requires no one to keep it standing.

I don’t know if cutting people out of this process is a right or wrong, but I do know it does help with sanity when I can lesson the load on I expect from others.  Self-esteem is not my strongest trait, alternatively, self-efficacy is.  I may not be the most confident with who I am, but I am confident with I can do. Anything I put my mind to.

Maybe I am too caught up with the man in the mirror and should be more concerned with what he does than who he may be.

Funny Boy

I have a serious nature by default, one which I inherited from my father along with a sarcastic tone.  That’s not to say that everything has to be serious, but the words that I speak carry a dry wit, a calm sensibility, or an almost ridiculous notion on every utterance. Truth be told, I can’t help it. It’s a consequence of my always overthinking nature – which as I have said before gets me in more trouble than it’s worth.  Now, that is to say; I do have my moments of comedy. But in the grand scheme of existence, I default to talking about the nuances of life instead of saying something funny.

It’s problematic, as you might know, to constantly bog down a conversation with reality.  It makes for conversations that carry too much weight and (much to the chagrin of social scientists everywhere) people don’t want to talk about that type of stuff all the time.  Against my best efforts, my conversations can become humorous and light. Which are always a joy to have but I don’t know how to get there except frequent happy accidents.

What can I do, this reflection all came to head with the fact that I became unfunny, which to some isn’t a huge difference. But, it was something that I had taken for granted.  For the life of me, I couldn’t comprehend how the change happened. What was left is seriousness and the weight it carries.

Usually, that’s not usually an issue; I am young and healthy so I know how to wear the weight, it’s just that my favorite thing in the world is people’s smiles.  Now try to get someone to smile when you are talking about the various problems of life and history.  Usually, that only makes a handful of people happy.

Humor is, at least to me, is about taking the world and changing it in such a way that sad thoughts can become a happy one. My goal in life is to understand pretty much everything this world has to offer and that includes what makes people happy.

Now I am not going to say that I have to change my serious nature; it keeps me on track and surprisingly calm about most things in life.  What I do need is to lighten up a little, allow things to be stretched and skewed a little bit. That little twist is sometimes the thing that changes crying from sadness and crying from laughter. So wish me luck on this endeavor, god knows I will need it.