They Scratch.

The thoughts. Aching to break loose, manifest and be digested. They itch. I should let them out. But every time I set about to do so, they fail me. Like people that were interested in your birthday when that really popular kid was going, but then they realized it was just a ruse. (I didn’t know until my birthday that James wasn’t coming, thanks mom for lying).

No. Seriously though. I need to let loose some of this energy. Whatever the reason. I just about ran out of meds and had canceled the last doctor’s appointment the way it conflicted with my schedule for my new job, which is great by the way. But now I go in Friday to touch base and get a new prescription, life is good.

More than that, I realize how quickly my girlfriend has become an inseparable part of me and my day. I look forward to those brief disgustingly cute exchanges we have before we both settle into the thought that we are glad we found each other. Things moved fast, in lots of ways. But, I can’t say it would have done it any differently, and I think that’s a beautiful thing.

I had a minor depressive episode lately. In it, I took up a random rhetorical analysis and disagreement online. One of the ways my depressive episodes manifest is obsession, and I was obsessed with the idea, I was going to prove somebody wrong. I dropped it. Because I’m better than that. My morals somehow triumphed, and I just walked away. Only after spending almost 2 hours to write 2600 words of why I was correct and they were wrong. Breaking apart their own words and providing an analysis of my own. I just never used it, deleted the words and mostly put it out of mind.

That’s good. That’s progress, haha, no matter how small. I’m a good person. I am. I’m tired of being so terribly humble and convincing myself that anyone would do these things or offer these things, when the fact is, I am in a minority. Everyone likes to believe they are a good person. But so few are.

I used to be Catholic. Now? Not so much. I still go to church. A Christian church, but not a Catholic one. Mass so inconsistently connected with me. Even though in high school, going to a Catholic school afforded me opportunities to go into church often and pray, sometimes by myself. But now I’m closer to God. And it’s none of my business what anyone else believes in terms of being spiritual. I do not care except for the fact that some people can be brought to a better place with that in their life, no matter the focus. I do think that’s ok. I don’t push my views on anyone, I don’t judge for anyone not believing in mine. I do get frustrated when on a surface level I think about the various arguments in policies. As a country we will always be divisive, that’s part of how a democracy operates. It needs to shift back and forth to maintain some level of balance before it inevitably crumbles from some other type of strain.

But for now. I just need to be a good person. I don’t need to incite my fellow man. I don’t need to tell everyone or even think when some people are wrong. For the most part, I can’t change that. Those people won’t change the way they think, and to be honest, if it isn’t hurting somebody, should I really care?

There’s this odd amorphous shift in the way I start viewing things. I still wince when people say something about kids need to toughen up because bullying was worse in their day. I think it’s mighty shitty of adults to straight up put blame on the victimized children. To compare themselves is inconceivable to me. Now, I do agree that if kids that are being bullied, were better equipped to deal with it, it could go better. That could mean martial arts, it could mean confidence, a lot of things. So in some ways I see the hypersensitivity, but adults simply saying bullying is part of life and that kids should just get used to it is a frustrating mentality. So there are a few things that set still set me off. I was bullied. A ton. It sucked. No one stood up for me. Eventually I stood up for myself.

There’s a lot more to that story. I wanted to kill my bullies. Literally. Firearms and the whole shebang. Not every kid can be backed into a corner and come out ok, and I think adults shouldn’t be so asinine. Now I forgot what I was originally going to talk about. It was gonna be about my shift in philosophy in an individual level. But I hit one of my triggers I guess haha.

Using that word, “trigger”, another one comes to mind. And suddenly this entire post starts devolving around me. Let’s try to bring it back.

I work in a call center now. I don’t mind dealing with people on the phone. I thought it would stress the bejeezus out of me, but it doesn’t. Funny thing happens when you empathize, truly empathize. You can understand the person on the other end. They may be weird as Hell, or have a problem, you never could, but that’s their role to call you they feel, and it is your role to assist. I don’t get the people I see as I walk around who make violent pantomimes or flip the birds to the phone after a call concludes.

No one is being hurt. And if you can empathize, the job isn’t hard. I still get angry. I still have a cauldron full of social issues that boil over, but even in the people I can’t disagree more with, I cannot harbor an anger. Again, the caveat, that their actions or opinions are not hurting anyone. I am finding the ability to love people no matter what. As I find the inclination to love a woman more than I would have thought possible with the way things have been. And as I find the strength to love myself.

I deserve to be here. I deserve to be more. I owe it to myself. But what is more? That’s my call. Right now. That’s a wonderful boyfriend. A patient son. A damn good charitable soul and someone who can turn a call around. It doesn’t need a lot of money for me to be more. It doesn’t need a fancy paper telling me I’m qualified. My success is my happiness. And I’ll be damned, but I’m bloody happy.

Anytime I write that. You can’t begin to imagine how wonderful it is to stare at those words knowing the truth in them. Or maybe you can. Maybe that’s something you know all too well. Or believe that you could never know for any reason. I’d be right there with you half a year ago. Wondering when I could just let it all go. No life is worth losing. As someone who has been all sorts of dark places in their own mind, I consider it a statistical anomaly that the only real problem I seem to have is random binges of porn. I should be a drug addict. I should be an alcoholic. I shouldn’t be alive. I shouldn’t be happy. But, just listen to me. I am.

Now, I know I don’t carry the weight in my words I would like. And I know there are so few who will actually read this. But I’m a good person, and I love people. No matter how weird. So, if you ever need an objective opinion, a person to talk to, somebody to console you. I’m here. Don’t hesitate. I don’t expect anyone to ever take me up on this offer, but it is sincere, I won’t material needs, but I will do what I can to help. Consider that my gift to anyone who needs it. I was crazy once. Still am by some standards. But, doesn’t mean I can’t be stable, doesn’t mean I can’t be happy. I would love to help someone achieve that, so I’m here.

That may have taken an odd turn I guess. I should write more. To try to support people who might read this but not have that bit of courage to say something. Maybe I will. I certainly want to. The dark times have passed, and even should they return, I shall not fear any longer.

The Unfinished Ghost

I started writing a post a few days ago. It was actually quite beautiful what I achieved in it for as little as I had written. I thought the draft was saved, it would appear I am wrong. In an effort to at least  recreate that which was, I will write some things, though I estimate it will pale in comparison.

Life hands you lemons. Lots of lemons. People say make lemonade. It’s a sweet spin on the use of the fruit. Too bad life didn’t hand me sugar or water too. So, a grocery trip later after life’s lemon giving I sit prepared to make lemonade. Alright, that’s done, let’s have a glass. Refreshing! Now to sell it and reap additional profit. What’s that? A police man visited and informed me I don’t have the proper authorization or licenses to distribute this lemonade. The more for me I guess.

Sometimes life hits us hard, point being, and even when we try to turn it positive, we get hit again, and again… and again. We often get hit so hard so many times we can lose sight of the good life has. Maybe we bury that thought of hope and happiness because we get so tired of disappointment. I know I did. Maybe, we embrace the struggle and see beauty in the efforts, not the rewards. I like to think I do, but I do need something every now and again to keep me going.

A new friend (very recently new kind of friend) may be just this. Even if just for the moment. We went a first date, and the conversation enthralled me. So many interesting things. I really enjoyed her talking about her experience with God and prayer though. And then I got to share one of mine. It kind of reminded me how to place things again. Since then, nightly prayer. It was just a great reminder. Something I sometimes lost sight of.

These past few night’s prayers? I have asked for nothing for myself. I like that. These prayers I start out affirming my beliefs. Then I thank God for giving me life. I thank him for granting me the abilities I have and for the perspective I am gifted with. For the first couple of nights after that date, that’s all the prayer was. Now? I’ve added to it. I pray for others of course, something I lost sight of too. I ask for less suffering in this world. I offer up my own to this extent. I ask for people to be accepting of who they are and loving in how they act. I know I have this. Or at least now I do. And it is one of the BEST gifts a person can have.

So this friend? She’s pretty great. I can’t say where she will be at any point in the future. But, I’m glad she’s here for now. I’m going to start church again. I need to. Sometimes it just takes that little push when life gives you lemons, maybe your friends have the sugar and water, maybe even some strawberries to help you put it all together. And you need no more profit than that.

I’m in excellent spirits though. This is a new place for me. In all the years of various types of suffering. Through all the events that happen. Through all my strange grief. I’m here now. I’m wanting to be part of something bigger more than ever, and I’m finally considering myself to really be on the path of happiness. Lots of stuff happening these past few months. Got a lot of people to thank. They’ll read this probably. Hopefully. I’m ready to have that hope again. Even knowing that there will be pain. There will be setbacks. There will be so many bad things all together going forward that life will not have only delivered me lemons, but cut some wounds to squeeze them in too. Life, let’s just say God even for my purposes, gives us love though, and friendship, and passion. So we get a good round of disinfectant and band-aids to fix it all.

The journey is wonderful. Pain and all. Gonna keep on going on, maybe take the scenic route a couple times too. We all have that thing that helps us get better. Anyone struggling with mental illness, do not give up. It’s a damn hard battle, no denying that. But there’s tools. There’s wonderful things that can help and can make it all worthwhile.

Am I Really So Different?

The short answer to the question if I’m really so different, is yes. Yes I am. I’m not better than anyone, but people are also not what I desire or hope or expect. I understand and respect that people can be of different mind and approach and everything. So they’re not better or worse than me. Even if they don’t adhere to my personal morals or ethics.

A few days ago I was at work (surprise). I was particularly philosophical. I was asking my coworkers things like “If an artificial intelligence was achieved, what would motivate its actions and what do you think its actions would be?” I did this in an effort to get people to compare their own motives and why an artificial intelligence would be similar or dissimilar from themselves. I had some other questions too of course, I’m always pondering at work.

Amidst these thoughts and discussions I help a customer. She learns about what she needs and expresses appreciation for not trying to sell her the “newest thing”. I explained that people are entitled to different values and beliefs, and I try to accommodate that, even if it means I sell nothing. In an essence, I tell her, I’m honest. She talks a bit about personal matters and I listen. This is a role I fill quite frequently actually in retail. Guess I just have one of those personalities that people can confide in. I am pretty awesome after all!

Anyway, she notices a little boy, about 8 or 9 waiting on me by the cameras, and says “I think you have a gentleman waiting on you, I’ll stop borrowing your ear. Thank you so much for your help, I wish everyone were a little more like you.” I reply with “Thank you, I appreciate that, you have a wonderful night ma’am”. “You too” she says “and a better tomorrow. And a wonderful blessing on your life”. I laugh and say “you too”.

I’m touched after that. Some days don’t have interactions like that, but I think to myself, “Now this, this is why I’m okay working in retail”. And I turn to the boy.

“Yes sir, you look like you been waiting on me, what can I do for ya?” (I often change my language or demeanor to better fit the person I am talking to, I guess maybe that’s my “hip” approach, I don’t know haha) He wants to know if “this” Godzilla is the new Godzilla. I tell him it’s the newest one I know of, but I haven’t seen it, because I am partial to the originals. He pushes and asks about certain scenes from the one he’s pointing at, trying to figure out if it’s the one he’s wanting. I shrug with a smile and tell him it’s likely but I haven’t seen it. His dad comes up at this point. “I see you found someone, did he tell if it’s the right one?” I laugh, and I tell him the same thing I just told his son. We end up having a discussion about the older Godzillas. The father seems genuinely impressed and asks if we carry any of the old ones. I tell him we used to, before the new film released, and that it’s still likely to find the multipacks online. He gives a hearty laugh and says “We might just have to do that.” looking at his boy he continues “Then you can see what real Godzilla films are like” and tousles his hair.

I get this warm feeling. He shifts his shopping contents all under one arm and presents his hand for a shake. “Hey, thanks for helping my boy, most people don’t take the time. I want you to know I appreciate it.” Taking his hand to shake, I tell him it’s not a problem, I’m here to help, even if my higher ups insist that I’m here to sell. He laughs and I excuse myself, letting them know to find me if they need anything else.

They find me several more times. Each time looking for an “old” or classic movie that I happen to know about. And each time the father says something to the effect of finally a person who knows movies and likes the good ones. I’ll be honest, for two of the requests, I was familiar with the title, but had to use my equipment to look up certain facts or actors or other things. He didn’t seem to notice, but I let him have the appreciation, it was nice to feel gratitude.

And I’m enjoying the night. Talking about philosophy, great interactions and gratitude with these people. But then at one point another coworker joins my current assignment. So there’s three of us altogether. The discussion I was having previously about ethics and morals and my view on respecting people’s views, is shifted to partying. Let’s say I was talking to John, and Sam joins us. Sam starts talking about how John should go with him next spring break. I laugh as my intellectual conversation has come to an end.

Sam starts talking about how easy it is to get women to show their “Bs”, pronounced “bees” talking about their breasts obviously. Maybe the kids just say Bs now? I don’t know, immediately I get uncomfortable. Despite being a huge pervert, I not only have no interest in hearing about this matter at work, I have no interest in engaging in this activity. I feel like that’s disrespectful towards women.

Eventually Sam catches on that I’m not talking on the matter. And starts asking things like if I like to party. Only with close friends, I clarify. The matter of sex comes up. I explain I’m not interested in meaningless sex, I find an intellect much more attractive. Briefly I give in to the stories about girls and explain that I have had offers of sex from random girls, not that it was so blunt, but it was pretty obvious. One in particular had clung to me at an event I was participating in and tried insisting I escort her to her hotel room. There was some more subtext among other things, but it was obvious she wanted to get me in her hotel room. I declined, she pouted. I have a few stories like that actually.

I guess I think more of girls and women. Go figure, didn’t think that was so rare, a tragedy, that. “So you would decline if a girl asked to give you head at a party if you had a few?” Sam asks. “yes, definitely”. I think to myself that in my manic episodes it might be possible, but I’d rather not entertain the idea, given that I respect women. They question if I’m even straight. I explain I can find women gorgeous, but that doesn’t mean I’d have random sex with them. They ask me to name 3 celebrities I find attractive. First one I name is Scarlett Johansen (she’s gorgeous). They both nod in agreement. I couldn’t name any more I tell them. I don’t usually do that whole thing. They create a scenario in which I’m now being offered sex with her, being the honest person, I say, probably, but that’s an extreme circumstance and I would probably be uncomfortable with it.

They leave me be. Keep talking about how you just need a cooler of beers to get girls to show their “Bs”. Quite frankly the entire discussion and exercise frustrated me. I guess I respect people more than that. Women aren’t just something to ogle. And yes, I do ogle them. I don’t feel bad for that, it’s more or less nature. But I don’t make that the focus of my interaction with women. I certainly don’t aim to make that the focus.

So, night started strong and ended terrible. I don’t like being confronted by people about being an outcast really. I especially don’t like my perception of romance and respect and interest more in the mind, being challenged. Yes, there is a certain “type” of woman I would find attractive, but that’s not enough. Maybe attraction starts it, but I wouldn’t just have sex just cause. And I wouldn’t have a relationship with someone just because they were gorgeous.

Guess I’m just different. Not better, as hard as that is to say. But different. I like that I’m different though. I appreciate who I am and who I have become. Maybe I’ll stumble into some girl soon that would be ideal for me (unlikely, but you can’t blame a guy for hoping).