Thinking out loud

I used to be that friend that everybody went to with their problems. That's how I used to make friends, I would seek out the broken souls (at least the female broken souls) and then get them to tell me their life stories. Then I would try to fix everything for them. One of my close friends growing up actually called me her "mentor" I was a 14-year-old with the mind of a wise old man.

I don't do that very much anymore. I haven't for a long time. It wasn't that I didn't like it. I loved it, I loved making people happy and making them feel better about themselves. I'm not completely sure why I gave it up, probably because it was just too damned exhausting. In a few frustrating situations I found out that sometimes people don't want to be happy, they like being miserable, and you can't fix somebody that doesn't want to be fixed.

I also learned that when it comes to advice most people don't want it. 99% of the time when people ask for advice they're asking for you to tell them what they want to hear. They've made up their minds, now they just want somebody else to say what they're thinking so that they will be more confident with the decision they're already decided upon. It's not exactly an optimistic way to look at it, but we all do it.

I've never been very good at telling people what they want to hear, that drove some people away, and I also gave up on fixing people. I can't fix anybody, even if they want me to. When I gave up trying to be the "caretaker to the world" (as my school counselor would call it) my mental health improved dramatically. I started taking care of (and looking out for) myself. To this day that's something that sounds selfish for me to do, but I understand that it has a lot to do with why I'm as resilient a person as I am.

I also stopped giving out so much advice. My close friends all know (or at least they should know) that I would do anything for them, but a lot of times advice isn't what they want or need, which is something I didn't know why I was younger (and sometimes I forget, ask around, I tend to give out my fair share of unsolicited advice, my bad). Sometimes somebody just wants to talk about what's bugging them, to think out loud. Sometimes they just want a hug, and sometimes they don't want to talk about their problems at all, sometimes they need to get their mind off of their problems, if even just for an hour or two.

That said, sometimes I find myself falling into bad habits. I'll see a friend heading down a path that everybody around them knows isn't good for them, and I'll pull my hair out wanting to get them to change their minds. Sometimes I just want to shake them senseless, or at least until they can realize how stupid they're acting. It drives me nuts when I see somebody I care about ignore the great opportunities they have in front of them in favor of some misguided pipe dream that is only going to lead to them getting hurt.

But now, unlike before, I know that I need to stop myself. I don't know as much as I think I do sometimes, and besides, it's not my place to tell them what they should and shouldn't do. In the end the best thing is to let them go off and learn the lesson for themselves, and sometimes people need to chase their pipe dreams.

So instead of rushing in and trying to rectify the situation I'll keep my mouth shut. That's what a good friend does. I think.

Merry New Year

Compared to others, this has been a shitty year, the last six months in particular, but I know I still have a lot to be thankful for. My friends and family most of all. I wouldn't be anywhere without them. When it comes down to it, bad things are going to happen to all of us, some things worse than others, and it may feel like this really isn't your day... month... year... life or whatever. Things are going to go wrong, that's just the nature of the human condition. You have to keep in mind though, great and beautiful things happen every day. The only way you can miss out on these great things is if you let the bad things cripple you (like they crippled me a lot this year). You may lose a friend but gain another, a grandparent may pass away and someone close to you may have a child, you may lose your faith in God but gain faith in Humanity. Bad things are going to happen no matter what, even if you lock yourself in your room, but you can't experience the finer things in life if you don't come out and play.

I think part of what makes life beautiful (pardon my sappiness) is our ability to overcome the rough times that come our way. We'll be beaten down, but we keep on keepin' on, and we should be proud of ourselves for that and try to lend a hand to those that are struggling.

(Only one more paragraph of my cheesiness, I promise.)

Anyway, my new year's resolution is to be more positive about life and to tell those close to me how I feel about them. To live for the day and not as if I have another fifty years to go. I love you all, and I hope your 2008 is a successful year for you.

Incoherance

Here's a change of pace. As opposed to actually trying to make sense with my posts I'm just going to ramble on incoherently. This is the reason I hate most blogs. All people do is ramble on and on about themselves and nothing, but tonight (or rather this morning) I don't care.

I thought for a second about just talking to somebody about this stuff, but for the last week or so my mind has been touching on such non-linear subjects that all I can do is confuse people, and in turn probably scare them to an extent. Open a book, any book, now read only every eighth word. Yeah, that's what it's like in my head when I try to sleep.

My situation is on tumble dry right now. Everything has been tossed around, and I haven't even started to figure out where everything has ended up. I have a different outlook on life; I have no sympathy for others or myself when it comes to petty problems in life. I'm unemployed, and I came to the realization last week that I'm depressed.

Let me clarify that last statement. Yes, I'm struggling with depression issues. However, I'm not all that unhappy. All things considered my life is going just fine, I just have social anxiety issues, I disappear from my friends (something that's easy when 99% of them are 2000 miles away) and occasionally I don't leave the house for four days. I know that sounds terrible, but I've dealt with worse bouts of depression. I have a lot to be happy about. I have a great family including two beautiful nephews that I love being around, despite being unemployed I'm not in financial trouble, and I have a sweet ride. I know how to deal with this. It's not fun, but I know I can handle it and I'm starting to put together a plan to work through it. Things are good, I'm just depressed... that doesn't even make sense to me. I assume this is part of the grieving process. Who knows.

Anyway, time for something different that's been on my mind tonight.

As I was laying down trying to sleep I started thinking about a certain relationship I was in years ago. This girl absolutely blew my mind, I was infatuated. I spent almost every day that summer spending time with her. Anyway, I'll spare you the rest of the story, but you get the idea. Anyway, I was reminiscing, and yearning (for lack of a better word) to have those moments back, to have somebody that fascinates me like that again, that was by far the most amazing relationship I have ever been in. But was it really?

This girl and I went our separate ways, but stayed in touch. We saw each other again months later, and I was underwhelmed. She'd change, being with her then wasn't as incredible as it was before. Then shortly before she left again we had more great times together. Then she left again. Then we saw each other again and the same thing happened. Disappointment followed by those incredible moments that reminded me why I was so caught up in her to begin with. This happened a few more times before we finally drifted apart and found new people, but every once in a while, like tonight, I reflect on the good times we had. They seem so awesome, I can't believe I ever let her get away, but that's got to be my mind playing tricks on me. The relationship definitely wasn't perfect, she had personality quirks that drove me bonkers, but I don't remember those times as well.

This got me to thinking, are the great memories we have really that great? I think oftentimes we live in that moment, we capture it and glean out all the things we didn't love about it. Maybe that has something to do with why some people always end up getting back together when they probably shouldn't. They have those great times tucked away and subconsciously forget the not so great times. I think this is where "absence makes the heart grow fonder" kicks in.

That doesn't mean this girl from ages ago wasn't worth the trouble. She definitely was, and I hope the girl I marry someday in the very distant future is a lot like her. However, we have to keep things in perspective. Nobody is perfect, you're not going to get along all the time, or even most of the time, if you allow yourself to develop unreal expectations of people you're never going to be content with things.

Seeing things as I am

"We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are."

-Anais Nin

Yeah yeah, that's me trying to be deep.

So I can't sleep a wink. I watched some MSNBC Documentaries and then a little bit of Meet the Press, which is usually good for a snore, but then I started reading. Usually a half hour of reading can knock me right out, but lately it just gets me all riled up and restless.

Anyhow, the book I'm reading is called Dog Days and it's authored by Ana Marie Cox. The story is somewhat entertaining, and it's an easy read, and I've just realized that this has absolutely nothing to do with what I want this to be about, onward.

After reading a bit I got this crazy idea to dig up my old journals from my gradeschool years and take a gander. Now I'm further from being asleep now than I was before the Sunday Night Football game.

The first one I cracked open had the date 11-29-99 scrawled at the top. Dude! Seven years ago! I was 13! I read the first paragraph and was struck by a lead pipe of irony.

"I was looking for a book today, and I found one of my old journals. It was from when I was in the 6th grade! And I read it and found out that I was a really corny guy back then. So I decided to start a new one."

I can't help but laugh at that passage, because if I were starting a new journal today I'd probably write that same passage over again. The more things change (CLICHE WARNING! Unless you have a strong stomach I would urge you to skip to the next paragraph) the more they stay the same.

But I'm not going to start a new journal. For one writing by hand is just too slow for me to handle anymore. Also, this has sort of become my journal, but hopefully this is a tad more readable.

So anyway, I've been reading through the entry's, and the first thing I realize is that I wasn't as mature back then as I thought I was. Also, for as smart as I was I could be awful dense, like the time when I was trying to get ahold of a girl and nobody was answering the phone, so I dialed *67 to block my number on the caller ID and called her again and that time she magically answered, I made the astute observation: "she sounded like she didn't want to talk to me." If I could go back in time I'd bop my younger self on the nose. Come to think of it, that'd make a fascinating plot for a teenpop sci-fi novel, but I digress.

Around wintertime of '99 and early '00 I was really good at keeping my journal up to date, with entry's almost every day. At the same time I was having a rather tumoltuous relationship with a girl that had just moved to town from Kentucky. She had severe baggage; I was overbearing and needy, it was a perfect fit. Reading over this again after all these years is actually quite entertaining. I went from being the kid that would write "boobies! yay!" to "the world hates me, I cannot go on!" to "I love her so much, I could never be without her" and back again. Through all the drama and teenage excess I can kind of watch myself grow up through it all, which is probably the most interesting part to me.

Anyhow, I'm thinking about transcribing some of the journal entry's and posting them chronologically so that both of my loyal readers can enjoy the tales of middle school adolescent drama seen through the eyes of a slightly bored and severely convused 14-year-old. We'll see what happens.

JK