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 |   A journey of self-improvement - or not. |
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Sup? I'm Char. You may know me from timeless classics such as
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[Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Believin' all the lies that they're tellin' ya Buyin' all the products that they're sellin' ya They say jump and ya say "how high?" Ya braindead, ya got a fuckin' bullet in ya head |
  "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS"  Prompt: What do you want for Christmas? (Or for your next birthday if you don’t celebrate Christmas)Had a chill Thanksgiving around these parts. I didn't really talk to much of my family members because they were still celebrating on their own with their families. In fact, my grandfather, who's the only one among us who was alone today, apparently cooked himself an entire Thanksgiving feast.  I'll check in with him tomorrow to see how it turned out.Now onto Christmas? I do have my birthday in between. Kira is getting me an Apple TV for the bedroom because I work in there all day. I've been watching movies and TV shows on my iPad while working on my work laptop, but it'll be cool to have the big screen TV for that. This is actually a good prompt for me today though because my mom refuses to not get us something for Christmas every year even though we've begged them to just focus on stuff for the grandkids. So I'm supposed to think of something that we want. I've realized (finally) that it's less stressful for her if I just pick something random. I used to say, "I don't want anything" or "I dunno" when she asked. It's only this year that I've realized it adds stress to her Christmas shopping when I do that. So, I'm making an effort to just say something this year. I'm trying to think of something that's not expensive, but that also sounds practical. I don't want to say we want something that we would obviously never in life want or use. I'm thinking, like, a kitchen appliance? I don't know... like, a blender?  How much does a blender cost? I'm trying to think of something under $100 even though I think they usually spend a bit more than that.I don't cook at all, by the way. But Kira is oddly into kitchen appliances. Like, she gets really excited when she sees the kitchen section at stores. But, the thing is, if I ask what she wants me to tell my mom that we want, she'll say she doesn't want anything even though she knows we'll get something. We have a little plug-in grill thing, a blender, a microwave, a toaster, a kettle, and a coffee maker. But yeah, I'm going to try to find something that Kira doesn't even realize she would want so that I can make everyone happy. My mom, because she'll have gotten us something useful that we like. And Kira, because she'll like it. Just need to, ya know, figure out what all these kitchen appliances are...  Stoic Thought of the Day: “Remember to conduct yourself in life as if at a banquet. As something being passed around comes to you, reach out your hand and take a moderate helping. Does it pass you by? Don’t stop it. It hasn’t yet come? Don’t burn in desire for it, but wait until it arrives in front of you." -Epictetus |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: I am writing this prompt today from the current and ancestral home of the Anishinaabe people. In your entry today, research and write about the indigineous and native peoples who lived on the land where you currently reside. If you are in the United States, take time during your Thanksgiving meal to thank your ancestors and the indigenous people of your area. Interesting idea! I've never looked into this. Apparently, as many 25-30 tribes claim the area where I live as part of their ancestral lands. Primarly, the "Three Fires Confederacy" or "Council of Three Fires" which is comprised of the follwing tribes: - Ojibwe - Odawa - Potawatomi The Ojibwe are referred to as the "Older Brother" and are known as the keepers of faith. The Odawa are referred to as the "Middle Brother" and are known as the keepers of trade. The Potawatomi are referred to as the "Younger Brother" and are knowns as the keepers of fire. Here are a few interesting facts about the tribes:  The Ojibwe are the most populous tribe of the three now with a population around 171,000. Odawa is least populous with a population of only around 15,00. The Potawatomi tribe teach the "Seven Grandfather Teachings" which are wisdom, respect, love, honesty, humility, bravery, and truth. The Obijwe tribe are the originators of what we know as a "dreamcatcher" today. It was originally called a "spider web charm" and was used as a protective charm for infants. The French and Indian War began, in part, due to the Raid on Pickawillany by the Odawa tribe. During the raid, Odawa warriors stabbed an Englishman to death, scalped him, ripped out his heart, and ate it in front of the Miami tribe. After which they killed, boiled, and ate Memeskia, the Miami chief. There are many Midwest places whose names are derived from the Potawatomi language, Skokie, Waukegan, Kalamazoo, and Muskegon to name a few. As with many others, this alliance of tribes was encroached upon by European settlers. They fought against Great Britain in the French and Indian War and the Pontiac's War. They fought against the United States in the Northwest Indian War and the War of 1812.Thanks for the prompt! That was interesting. I can't wait to see what others find out about the tribes native to where they live. As far as my own Thanksgiving plans, my family luckily decided to cancel their big celebration which would have included around 25 people from a few different states. Everyone is celebrating in their smaller family units. We got stuff to cook dinner and a couple bottles of wine to go with it. This will be the first Thanksgiving we've had without either Kira's family or mine. It's the safe thing to do though, and it's the right thing to do. In my family, it came down to no one wanting to be the person who hosted a super spreader event that got everyone sick. If I'm being honest, the holidays mean very little to me. They're basically just another day. But I am used to being with my nieces and nephew for them, so that part sucks. No big deal though. Nothing a movie and glass of wine (or three) can't fix.  Stoic Thought of the Day: "Learn to be indifferent to what makes no difference."-Aurelius |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Write about tinkering, brainstorming, or the process of creation. What brings out your creativity? I felt a little better about work today after setting clear limits on what I'd be able to manage as the only person on my team around to handle things this week. I cleared my emails quickly by saying things like, "I'll let so-and-so field this question when they return Monday because they built and maintain this report. Have a nice holiday!" I was a little worse for wear last night because, as I pretty much wrote in my entry, very minor conflicts can send my brain spiraling. I start thinking about what I did wrong or what I said that caused friction. I almost need reassurance that everything’s okay and I didn’t do anything wildly inappropriate. The site can be difficult for me in that way. I don’t have any social media otherwise, so WDC is the only place where I can have someone random, off-putting interactions. Then I’m kind of like do I say something to defend myself or is someone else going to say something on my behalf? Kind of a weird situation for someone who hasn’t ever had stuff like Twitter or FB or anything. To be honest, I don’t even deal with stuff like that in real life often either. Like for someone to randomly come up to me and say something dismissive or rude to my face? It just doesn’t happen outside of someone I know who’s purposely trying to set me off because they’ve decided they’re fighting me. Grey areas in between confuse my brain because I’m just like... why are you even saying anything to me? But regardless, time to let that go with the side note that I’m not ever going to let anyone here act goofy with me or anyone else publicly without swiftly calling them out. Too close to bullying for my taste and I’m not about it. Now, onto my creativity, or lack thereof... Even when I write creatively, I use real life inspirations. Not even just my own experiences, but also things I’ve had other people tell me, conversations I’ve overheard. Everyone has a story and every story is worth sharing, whether it’s through a vignette or a poetry snippet or a full blown novel. I’d definitely be one of those novelists whose characters are technically blends of a ton of people they’ve met in real life. My creativity used to be sparked by just about everything. Real life, image prompts, movies, site contests, music, art, other people’s writing... But then university happened. After I was buried in stats textbooks and spreadsheets, I found it difficult to turn that part of my brain off and reconnect with my creative side. I would try to write a poem and it would end up being about lectures or exams. I really miss writing poetry the most. I’ve had a few failed attempts at getting back into it. I think I started the year off okay, but then the whole pandemic thing happened and my creativity scurried away again. The difficult part about getting back into creative writing is that your writing sucks when you start again. I’ll write something now and be like, yiiiiiikes. But there’s really no way out but through. I need to get back into the habit of setting aside time away from work for creative writing. Maybe that will be my goal for December. No waiting for a new year’s resolution this time.  Stoic Thought of the Day: “Above all, it is necessary for a person to have a true self-estimate, for we commonly think we can do more than we really can.” -Seneca |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Think back to a time when you felt completely at peace. What made you feel that way? I had such a stressful day.  Like I'm really close to Charlie Meltdown Mode and I still haven't decompressed from work.The situation is that almost my entire team, including my boss, are taking this whole week off because of the Thanksgiving holiday here in the States. Cool, no problem, I'll hold down the fort. Let me tell you, I'm not holding down anything. Starting at 7a.m. today, I was getting bombarded from every angle. Emails piling up, phone calls asking why I'd not answered those emails yet, Skype messages. I usually eat some fruit and yogurt or something in the morning while calmly going through my emails- not today! I was attempting to send out my reports along with my team members' reports while also trying to figure out the answers to what seemed like an infinite number of questions that I've never heard asked before in my 10 months here. Like, they were really coming at me hard. "What's this number mean?" on reports I was sending out on behalf of other people. "Why does this report have a different number than this other report that I discovered under a box of stale pizza crusts?" "Where's the source data for this PDF file I got from someone else several weeks ago?" It was constant like that until noon hit and I could move myself as 'away' for an hour and try to regroup. Once I got back from lunch, I just stopped answering my phone because I still had my whole job to do. I responded to emails and messages saying, "Unless this is an emergency, redirect your inquiry to its respective owner and they'll answer when they return from vacation." I don't know if other companies are like this, but everyone in my company acts like their request or question is legit life or death. I'm like, I can't even tell if this is actually urgent because you're all constantly panicking. The worst part is that when I get overwhelmed with stuff, I make a ton of silly errors. Nothing major, but just like forgetting to change the date on a report, attaching the wrong file to an email, forgetting to call into a conference until 23 minutes after it starts... And people love to call you out on stuff like that. "THIS REPORT SAYS NOV 16TH BUT IT'S THE 23RD. THE 16TH WAS LAST MONDAY." Yes, John, I know, thanks. The week number is accurate. The day numbers within the report are accurate. The email subject line is accurate. The only thing that's inaccurate is the regurgitated email body date that's rolled forward every week when it gets sent out.  Anyway, I'm hoping that more people will start their holiday vacation early and the rest of the week will be quieter. With all that being said, this prompt has impeccable comedic timing. I've really been sitting here trying to think of the last time I felt completely at peace. I mean, I have my moments here and there where I'm mostly calm, but I don't even know if I know what complete peace feels like.This isn't me being negative either. If you want to know what it's like in my brain 24/7, just watch this 3 minute video inside the life of someone with OCD: [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] It's extremely accurate and nails almost all of my current personal obsessions and compulsions. He's even a writer.  My point isn't to force you to watch another video, but it's a really good one if you're trying to understand OCD in 3 minutes.My brain is like this constantly. Not just when I'm anxious, not when I'm hyped up, but every.single.second of my life is like this. My inner monologue (and sometimes outward monologue) every moment that I'm conscious (and sometimes during nightmares) is exactly like this video. And the funny part about this is that I thought it was completely normal. I thought everyone had special counting patterns and rituals to protect themselves and others from harm. I still do think some of these things are relatively normal. Like when you get a headache and WebMD lets you know that you might as well start digging your grave. Everyone's had that experience. Everyone's gotten anxious and had their thoughts run wild before. So I thought this was just part of the human experience that was difficult but necessary. I remember telling people, "I don't know how people are even supposed to focus through all the thoughts." And of course they were like, "Huh?" To which I'd say, "You know, the constant racing thoughts?" Then they'd like tell me to smoke a bowl and relax. No one wanted to tell me that I was losing it or should look into that. It was more like you should have a few drinks to mellow out or whatever. So that's what I did for a long time. My OCD was totally undiagnosed. Therapists were like... ADHD maybe? I was young at the time too, like 12 or 13 and my older friends would see these kind of meltdowns and think, "Okay, he's having anxiety... Well, here's a benzo. Take it with a drink and you'll feel better." I would just do that all the time. I had a lot of other issues going on then too, but if I got high or got drunk I could have a few hours where that was kind of deafened. I remember being like, okay, sooo... why don't people do drugs literally all the time, they're amazing? I had to get really messed up to achieve that peace though because if I was just working off a buzz I'd be spiraling like, "I feel off. I feel sick. Something's not right." If I was totally obliterated, my brain couldn't even acknowledge how my body felt and thus didn't care to flip out. Until I'm proven otherwise, I don't think that people with severe OCD can naturally achieve complete peace of mind. I mean, if your mind was like that video every second you were conscious, would you feel at peace? I sure as hell don't. But achieving that peace through bad vices brings an entirely new set of problems on yourself. Plus, they always wear off and then you're just you again. It's not all bad though. Since I've been diagnosed, it helps having the people who care about me know that I have OCD because they can pick up on thought spirals that I don't even know are happening. Like for example, I'll go to Kira and say something like, "So, when I was getting in the car today, I noticed that our neighbor was waving at me but not until like the last half second before she gave up and turned around, so-" Then Kira will interrupt me and be like, "Charlie, this isn't a big deal. You didn't do anything wrong. She definitely noticed that you weren't paying attention and just moved on. You didn't snub her; you didn't hurt her feelings. She's not angry. You're not a bad person." And I'm like,"Oh... okay, thanks." It sounds pathetic typed out, but I'll get legit intrusive thoughts about these things. You're such a shitty person. You have, like, zero social awareness. Your neighbor definitely hates you now because of how bad of a person you are. Actually, everyone hates you because of how bad of a person you are. By the way, remember that time 10 years ago when your friend said no one likes you for very long? This is why. Oh, and also, you're dying. Because you suck. And your immune system sucks too. It's like having your biggest bully in your head all the time, who knows all your secrets and every painful thing thag makes you tick. I do find some peace though wherever I can. Sometimes if I get really, really lost in a book I can zone out for a while. Same for a really good movie. Sleeping is about 50/50 for me. Half the time I have nightmares and half the time I don't. When I don't, it's such a nice reprieve and I don't want it to end. I guess I have my own versions of peace that involve trying to drown myself out with loud music or other less savory things. I always give people the benefit of the doubt because I know they're doing the best they can. Sometimes I manage to force myself to give me the same kindness. Stoic Thought of the Day: If you want to improve, be content to be thought foolish and stupid. -Epictetus |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Write about a time you discovered a new skill in yourself. Or write about the first time you put a new skill into practice. By any definition of the word 'amazing,' I am not an amazing artist. However, when I went back to school, I found myself constantly doodling in the margins during my classes. It actually seemed to help me focus more on the lectures if I sketched on my notes. This made for some very weird notes in university. I remember a few times where another student was absent from the lecture and asked to borrow my notes. Well, my notes were about 60% words and 40% doodles. It wasn't just in the margins anymore either, the words would curve around my drawings and skip over them mid-sentence to the other side of the page. I saw this Ted Talks about why people are convinced that they can't draw: [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] And yes, I know this is my second Ted Talks video in as many days, but if you find yourself with a spare 15 minutes, really check it out. It's so cute because most people have no confidence in their drawing skills whatsoever. Watching the audience draw with such trepidation in the beginning and then seeing them really get into it and have fun is well worth the time spent. Your art doesn't have to be astounding to be worth doing, and this video reminds me to just have fun and chill when I'm drawing. My art is never going to be amazing unless I put way more hours into it, but it's good enough at this point that if someone glances over my shoulder they'll say, "Oh look, a _______!" I used to do little comics of our professors. Nothing mean, just silly drawings like the ones in the video with speech bubbles of their most commonly said phrases. For example, we had a professor who would say, "What you're gonna wanna do..." about 40 times per lecture. I would take the sketch and slide it over to whoever was sitting next to me and watch them try not to laugh during the lecture. Is it a 'skill' per se? Maybe not. But it does pass the time in a boring meeting and it gets a laugh like 9 times out of 10 when I just very slowly slide the paper over to some unsuspecting person as though it contains an important message. Can't be serious all the time. Stoic Thought of the Day: “All things are cause for either laughter or weeping.” -Seneca |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Write about a moving performance you’ve witnessed. Consider musicals, theatre performances, dances, operas, orchestras, etc. Why did it have an impact on you? Just a couple drinks in tonight so I might have to actually edit this entry before posting it, which is something I almost never do. But i feel some typos coming on. I slept on and off all day today. Eventually, Kira came into the bedroom and confronted me about what was causing me to sleep so much. I went under the blankets and fell back asleep. I somehow still don't feel rested, but I imagine I'll be up most of the night after sleeping all day. I've gotta be totally honest on this prompt. I don't think I've ever been to an opera, orchestra, or anything like that. I did see the plays in school, which were mostly funny because I knew the people in real life and their fake accents were something to behold. As far as musicals or theatre performances... I very vaguely remember seeing a show once. There was a pamphlet with the acts on it when you walked into the theatre. There was intermission and all that. I can sort of see some of the costumes, wigs, and makeup that the performers were wearing. There was a big set on stage with a house at one point. You can tell that I was incredibly moved by this show based on the fact that I can barely remember it. Despite how emotional I am, I'm not easily moved or impressed by things. I don't often connect to things that aren't real, so like a movie won't really make me cry. I think a few books have made me cry. A Little Life totally wrecked my brain. I couldn't even see the words on the page through my tears. I think some TED Talks are total bullshit, but I think there are some really good ones. One of the most memorable ones was this 7 1/2 minute talk about a guy who almost became a school shooter: [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] I’m so moved by this one because it's a reminder that it's never a waste of your time to be kind and reach out to people. If they don't need you in that moment, no harm no foul. But if you're a kind and thoughtful person who regularly makes an effort to check in on people, you have no idea how much you've positively impacted the world. This is the exact reason that I'm always the first person to invite someone to come have lunch at my table when they're sitting alone at a work function or to bring someone into the group conversation when they're standing alone nearby looking uncomfortable. These aren't heroic efforts. They're baseline acts of human decency that cost you literally nothing. You have no idea what people are going through at any given time. Your simple gesture of kindness could mean everything to them. In addition to that, this video makes an excellent point about gray areas. You have someone who's abused at home and can't even escape that abuse at school because they're bullied there too. Society pushes and pushes these people and it creates evil acts. The difference between this guy and any number of demonized school shooters is that he did not have easy access to guns and he found a couple people along the way that were willing to show human decency. No one anywhere ever will convince me that Americans need access to the guns they have access to. And before any constitution warriors show up, the Bill of Rights was ratified in 1791, over 150 years before the AK-47 was founded. This is not in the spirit of what our forefathers envisioned. Easy access to weapons like this create opportunities for people who are in gray areas to slip into horrific acts. It's not just mental health treatment. It's not just meeting people with kindness. It's not just gun control. It's a combination of all of the above. But "thoughts and prayers" feels more comfy. I get it.  Anyway, I always liked this insight into a different perspective. I'd never even fathom hurting people like this, despite whatever. But we live in a world with all different personalities and types of people who react differently to traumatic and abusive situations. I hope that his story reaches those who are in dark places and helps them see some kind of light at the end of the tunnel. Stoic Thought of the Day: "Nothing is more honorable than a grateful heart." -Seneca |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Write about a “crucible moment” in your life. A challenging time that shaped you and altered your view on your life and/or the world. Many years ago, I was in individual therapy and the therapist asked to meet with Kira during one of our sessions. He wanted to get an outside perspective from someone who knows me well. Kira and I went to his office one afternoon and sat across from him on his couch. I was already uncomfortable because I wasn't sure how the conversation would play out. Kira and I were getting along well at the time. I was worried that something might get brought up in our session that would cause a rift between us. One of the first questions the therapist asked her was, "If you had to describe Charlie in one word, which word would you choose?" Without skipping a beat, Kira replied, "Angry." This caught me off guard. Of all the words in the world to choose, she instantly chose 'angry'. Not 'complicated' or 'troubled' or any number of other words that could lend leeway in their interpretation. Just... angry. The therapist said that was an interesting choice and asked her to expand on why she chose that word. She said, "Everything bad that happens in Charlie's life is because he's angry. At other people, at himself. His anger clouds everything." I was, um, angry? I mean, really, I was. I thought of all the words, you had to choose one of the most negative human emotions possible? I was offended. I thought I had a lot more depth than just simple anger. I left the session feeling like she had poisoned my therapist's image of me. Now he was just going to think of me as this angry kid whose only problem involved throwing temper tantrums. But it stuck with me in the sense that I'd always recall back to that session every time I got angry. I was determined to prove that I was more than an angry person. And yet, in the aftermath of every meltdown or episode, I would find myself saying things like, "Well, I was really pissed off." I was realizing that almost all of my negative decisions were a result of me being angry at the time. During therapy, I explored with my therapist the reasons I was so angry. He explained to me that a lot of the reasons I came up with for being angry were not legit. A lot of the things that induced rage in me would be merely frustrating to the average person. More importantly, he told me that hurting yourself because you're angry isn't a normal response. The reason I'm saying all of this is because I've spent the last several years trying to trace my anger back to its roots. I couldn't figure out why things could so easily set me off. I didn't really know why I would shake with rage at the smallest things or why I couldn't sit still and be angry. Those are mutually exclusive activities for me. If I'm angry, I pretty much get physical tics. Twitching, pacing, head jerking, shaking, cracking my knuckles, eye blinking, etc. Understandably, this behavior really worries people when they're around me. They're like, "Whoa, man, you've gotta settle down." But 95% of my rage comes out in self-destructive ways, so it's not like I'm just throwing hands every time I get angry. It's just this absolute volcano that builds up and erupts against myself. I'm angry, then I'm angry that my anger is getting out of control, then I'm angry that I'm not done being angry yet. And I have to have some kind of release, almost like a compulsion, so that I can get the anger outside of me. "Crucible moments" are the root of this anger. Throughout years of therapy and self-reflection, I've boiled it down to one thing: helplessness Any moment where I felt helpless contributed to this slow-building anger problem. I can think of specific crucible moments, but there have been so many that it's easier to just break them down into two categories: 1. Moments when someone else was hurt and I couldn't help. I'm convinced this is the primary cause of my anger. Seeing someone else getting hurt and being too young, too small, or too constrained to help is what I think created my genuine rage. For example, seeing my older brothers getting beaten and being way too young to do anything about it is the one thing that has made me consider disowning my parents entirely. I can't stand to watch someone get hurt. Now if the topic of my brothers and their abuse experience comes up, I become absolutely blind with rage. Noting too that I have intrusive thoughts from OCD, a memory can just come up out of nowhere and be very intense for me. If I'm with my parents and that happens, I have to leave immediately. I can't trust myself in those situations. 2. Moments when someone hurt me and I couldn't do anything. Then to a lesser extent, I think, there were those times when I was hurt and had no physical ability to defend myself in any way. My saving grace in those situations is that I can pretty much dissociate on command. If I don't want to mentally "be" somewhere, I can "leave." I can make nothing feel real, even myself and my pain. It's much easier to dissociate through your own pain than to dissociate through someone else's. Obviously, anger is still a big issue of mine. I've recognized that it's not healthy or helpful. I know that it causes me more problems. But there's this little thing that I just can't let go of. It snakes its way into my mind all the time. And that is that people can do whatever they want to you. One instance can cause you a lifetime of flashbacks, nightmares, anxiety, fear, and anger. But if you ever got the opportunity to confront that person, you would be met with confusion. It's not because you made up your experience. It's not that they're lying when they say they don't really remember it. It's that your crucible moment wasn't even a fucking blip on their radar. They've spent exactly 0 minutes thinking about it. It had no effect on them whatsoever. It didn't even register in their brain that it was something to be remembered. They can tell you about a detention they got back in high school. They can tell you about a road trip they took 20 years ago. They can tell you about the office Christmas party 5 years back. But when it comes to your crucible moment? They can't recall. Something that means everything to you means absolutely nothing to them. And that's what keeps me heated. Stoic Thought of the Day: "Anger, if not restrained, is frequently more harmful to us than the injury that provokes it." -Seneca |
"30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: It’s movie night at your place! Host a showing for your 30DBC friends of a movie of your choosing. Make sure the atmosphere is just right (imagine life post COVID  ) As your guests arrive, how are they welcomed? Any pre movie activities or games? What are we snacking on? Have fun with this!Welp, I feel like a hot circle of garbage today. I'm always surprised at how quickly mental health meds make me feel like shit. My body doesn't produce enough serotonin and also fully rejects my efforts to help it out. Other than the nausea and dizziness, I spent pretty much the whole day dissociating and exhausted. I think I was writing an email to NW earlier and the words showing up on the screen from my typing didn't even feel real. Then I looked up and nothing in my room felt real. Then I looked at my hands and I didn't feel real. Kira came into the room where I was working this afternoon and I was just sleeping with my head on my desk. She was like, "What's going on with you? Are you feeling okay?" Luckily, no one had urgently reached out to me at work while I was asleep. I started to feel a little bit better in the evening after sleeping on and off all afternoon, but then I had to take my meds again a little while ago so Round 2, let's go. Alright, so, movie night... First of all, my place isn't even close to being big enough for my 30DBC friends. It isn't even big enough for the 3 people who live here. I've seen some movies theatres during covid times that are allowing people to rent out an entire theatre for themselves and their friends/family. I think that would be a lot of fun in post-covid times. Plenty of space for everyone to spread out. Huge screen. Great sound. Movie theatre food, if that's what you're into. Then after, maybe a couple drinks and movie discussion time. People rarely let me pick the movie though. When I do hang out with my friends, they usually make a point of saying that I'm not allowed to choose the movie because I almost exclusively watch horror movies or slow burn indie flicks that most people find boring. After my friends told me no more horror movies, I thought I could reel them in with my indie picks, but those didn't go over well either. I'd let someone else pick. Majority rules or whatever. This is all preferable for me because I don't like being a host and I also don't like making decisions. And I'm also totally bombing this prompt because the absurdity of thinking about hosting WDC members in real life in my house in some future date where we don't have to worry about covid is making me dissociate even more. Nothing feels real because it isn't. I'll look forward to reading the other responses on this one though. Stoic Thought of the Day: "It is the power of the mind to be unconquerable." -Seneca |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Share a time when an interaction with a stranger had an affect on you. First of all, #TeamTakeYourMeds, I took my meds like an hour ago. I was feeling guilty for lying about it and then also feeling guilty for getting collective advice and not taking it. I figured taking the meds would be less of a strain than feeling bad. So, thanks for your advice and for giving me a little push. Now let’s just hope I don’t get sick and then it’ll be a non-issue with Kira. The only thing is that I’m taking it a couple weeks after I was supposed to start, so instead of knowing if it’s working or not in 4 weeks, it’ll take 6 weeks from now. The bottle says they can cause drowsiness and dizziness so I’m kind of hoping they’ll help me sleep. I’ve been sleeping like 2-4 hours every night and it’s really not enough. No big ramble today. I’ll jump into the prompt. The funny thing about strangers is that almost everyone who has affected your life was a stranger at one point. I’ve been profoundly impacted by some practical strangers though and that happened in institutionalized spaces- psych wards, behavioral health hospitals, and rehab centers. You meet people in those places for a very brief period of time, but you’re meeting each other at one of the lowest points in your life probably. It can be an incredibly intimate setting. I won’t romanticize this topic though. Most of the time, these places feel on par with the DMV. They’re clinical and stale. The staff might treat you as though you’re a bit of a pest. They’re just doing their job of making sure you don’t hurt yourself or others, and making sure you take your meds and all that. A lot of the patients you run into are just run of the mill people. Depending on the setting, they might just need to get their meds balanced out and they’re quickly out the door again. Other times they’re normal people who had surgery once and now they have a painkiller addiction that’s spiraled out of control a bit. Outpatient group therapy can be even less notable. I don’t want to use the word “boring” but just very standard, basic issues. “I feel like my husband doesn’t help out enough with the kids and I have all this pressure on me to be the perfect wife and mom all the time.” “I’m completely burned out from work. I don’t like the field I’m in at all and I don’t see the point in continuing to devote my life to working just so I can spin my wheels trying to cover bills.” Um, a lot of interpersonal conflicts with their spouses, families, coworkers. Tons of anxiety and depression issues. They’re mostly welcoming overall, but just... sterile. There will be long periods of general quiet and nothing going on, then there might be a tense moment with an argument, screaming, or fighting. Then it’s followed by another long period of nothing. But throughout the years, I have met people who caught my attention. Sometimes I’ve caught their attention first and we get to know each other during those short time frames. Years later, I’ll be lying in bed trying to sleep and I’ll think, I wonder if Jeremy stayed clean and out of jail? I wonder if Lydia ever started eating? Or just wondering how someone’s doing in general. Like if their issues have gotten better. If they finished school. If their kid is doing okay. As a general rule of thumb, I don’t exchange contact information with people in those kinds of places. Firstly, because I’m pretty private in my real life and I don’t need someone who saw me at a super low point being a part of my real life. But also because knowing them in real life would validate those experiences as real, and that’s not something I’m interested in doing. I also have a weird moral rule for myself where I don’t go out researching people on the internet. I don’t search their name along with their school or other affiliations to try to figure out what’s going on with them. I want to respect their privacy and digging into them makes me feel creepy and invasive. But probably a bigger thing is that I don’t want to run into an obituary or something if things didn’t go well for them. But you can meet some of the sweetest, kindest people in those environments. Not just other patients, but staff too. Not all of the staff treats it like a boring shift where they just want to get back to texting on their phone. Although one thing I’ve heard from staff members many times is, “Well, I’m not the one who put you in here. Don’t cop an attitude with me.” And it's like well, yeah, I didn't say any of this was your fault. I have mental health issues and now I'm here getting my meds all shifted around. People are going to get moody. But I can remember specific staff members, therapists, doctors, nurses and the like who were pulling really hard for me though. One I remember most vividly was many years ago, before I had even started university. I was inpatient and had just been given notice that I was getting out the next morning. I was sitting on the bed in my room there and the guy who ran group sessions came in and he kneeled down in the floor in front of me. He was like, "Listen to me. You're young, you're smart, and your life doesn't have to look like this. Apply the thoughtfulness and sensitivity that you give to others in group to your own self and your own decisions." And I promptly didn't do that. But it meant a lot to me at the time that he had stopped in to say goodbye. More than that though, his words made me feel seen and heard because he had framed my sensitivity as a strength, and I wasn't used to that. So often society has made me feel like my sensitivity is a weakness. So I really appreciate that guy for helping me see something that I thought was negative about myself in a positive light. And I hope he's doing okay. Stoic Thought of the Day: "People are not disturbed by things, but by the views they take of them." -Seneca |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Write about origins. You can take this literally as in where your family originated from (your history, culture, traditions), or you can focus on your own origins as a person. I had a super blah day today. I wasn't feeling work at all, and for the first time since I started working, my boss mentioned it to me. He was like, "Come on, struggle bus. I need you to be the little engine who could." But it still made me uncomfortable, like shit, he's noticing that I'm not mentally here. I was feeling really depressed this morning. I didn't know why, but I started linking it back to my friend who ghosted me last week. Maybe because I usually talk to him when feeling down and I couldn't do that. Not sure. Either way, I was like fuck it, I'm just gonna totally go off on him. Might as well, right? He's not responding anyway. So I was like basically like, "Hey there, fuck you." Along with some other choice words. Of course, I didn't feel better at all. I felt worse then because I basically handed him all the ammunition needed to be like, "Oh, hey, Charlie's an abusive psycho." But I think Elle - on hiatus  's comment on that entry is totally accurate. This is a person who's fully aware that I have borderline personality disorder that's heavily triggered by getting abandoned like that. It's 100% on purpose to flare up my mental illness and get a reaction, and my dumbass is like, "Sure, here you go." After reading everyone's comments yesterday, I decided that I'll start my meds. I'm not going to say anything to Kira about it. I'll just take them and if I do get noticeably sick, I'll fess up to it. Buuuut, I'm not starting quite yet. It's really hard because this is my longest stretch in a while of being pretty much totally unmedicated. I like being able to drink whenever I want and recreationally take whatever else I want without having to worry about interactions. Once I start taking a daily med like that, I have to actually be careful with alcohol and other things. I have a tendency to mildly OD by mixing things without even thinking about it. Earlier this year I had surgery so I was taking opioids and nausea meds for that. Then I casually threw in xanax and muscle relaxers and spent an entire night alternating between passing out and vomiting. It was good times. Obviously I need to get on a daily med though given the fact that I'm having daily issues at this point. Felt like I was doing okay-ish before this month. I can't really remember though. Speaking of Elle though, she'll be great for this prompt. I don't know a whole lot about my origins. I know there's English, Irish, and German in there. I never really looked into it because I don't talk to the paternal side of my family, like, at all. My maternal side doesn't know much beyond a couple generations back. As far as my origins as a person... not really sure what I can say that I haven’t already belabored here before. I grew up in a very rural area and I was raised pretty strictly Catholic. In fact, my first signs of OCD emerged as Scrupulosity, which is basically religious-themed ocd. I was a kid then, but I felt immense guilt all the time. I’d have panic attacks during confessional. I was convinced I was the worst person in existence because I’d thought or done something “bad.” Even things that are completely normal, like masturbation, would send me into a spiral of ritualistic praying and crying. I thought I was definitely going to Hell since I was such a piece of shit 11-year-old. The adults around me did absolutely nothing to quell my worries. In fact, I specifically remember a conversation with the priest and my parents where he told me that my body is a temple, you know, that whole spiel from Corinthians. And that by intentionally destroying it through cutting, I was actually slapping God in the face and angering him. Oh man, the horror of my childhood thinking that this omniscient, omnipotent being was furiously angry with me and waiting to condemn me to Hell for being such a bad person... The reason it’s relative to my origin is that it was pretty much my whole childhood until I got kicked out as a teenager. It colored every part of my life. The religion indoctrinated me to believe that I was unworthy, that I was indebted for my life itself and I should be thankful for everything that happened because I was undeserving in the first place. It taught me to be submissive, to not ask questions, to not raise concerns. It kept me quiet when I should have spoken. Needless to say, I eventually got out of the church. I’ll never, ever go back. To this day, I still struggle with feelings of extreme guilt that make it difficult for me to say no. I still feel those feelings of worthlessness. When I get overwhelmed with dissociation and stress, my brain still tries to gravitate back to it. I’m happy that people can get calm and peace from religion, but it was pretty much a traumatic part of my life. It’s bad for my mental health now. And it’s sad to me that when I think of my origin, I have to be reminded of all these things I went through in the name of religion. I have to be reminded of being a child and having adults angrily be like, “This ultimate sacrifice was made for YOU and you’re so UNGRATEFUL.” And I’m like 6 years old just thinking, wtf, I didn’t even do anything to anyone. I do credit religion with turning me into a masochist though, so there’s that. My sadistic partners thank you. Sometimes I see religion working for someone and I’m like, man, why can’t that be me? It’s scary to me because I see a lot of people who say that they turned to God as adults, like 40, 50, 60 years old or even older. In my twenties I look at the and I’m like, yeah... I’m screwed because I already did that. I already invited Jesus into my heart and lived in the presence of God. I did all the sacraments. Baptism, confirmation, eucharist, reconciliation. I’ve done everything. I can’t wake up at 40 or 50 and say, “Oh hey, life is kind of a mess and this religion stuff isn’t half bad. Let me accept Jesus into my heart and oh now all of my past sins are forgiven. Now I’m vibin’ with the Lord and I’m under constant protection. My best homie, God, has a plan for me so now my suffering feels bearable.” That ship has sailed for me. I can’t wake up and have this revelation. I said all the Hail Marys, I did everything I was supposed to do and I felt absolutely nothing except guilt, shame, and anxiety. I’m gonna wake up at 40 or 50 and have to off myself because I’m going to have no other place to turn. Like I said, I’m stoked that religion works for some people. It makes me happy that at least someone receives the prize that was promised. I’d venture to guess that a lot of the very religious people I know got that way a bit later in life. There’s nothing wrong with that. I just have my doubts that they were hanging out at 15 like, “Yeah, God really be out here having my back right now.” But for those of us who were absolutely demolished under the thumb of religion at the root of our origins, the perspective might be different. Also, the Catholic Church is infested with pedophiles and I’m glad we’re about done pretending it isn’t.  Stoic Thought of the Day: It's not like you killed someone. It's not like you drove a hateful spear into his side. -Tool |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: In your entry today, plan yourself the perfect day. Who would you see? Where would you go? What would you do? How do you spoil yourself? So, I was supposed to start a new mental health medication like 10 days ago, but I didn't. My thought process at the time was that I wasn't sleeping well and I didn't want to add new med side effects to the mix until I balanced out my sleep schedule. All good, except I didn't say that. ^^ Instead, I said I started them right away like the doctor instructed. A few times since then Kira has asked how the meds are going or commented that I seem to be tolerating them well. She said that because I typically get really sick when I take a new med that messes with my brain chemistry. Like, laying in bed, not eating, dizzy, nauseous, headaches... Kind of like a mild stomach flu. And sometimes it lasts for like 2 or 3 weeks. Every time she's mentioned it, I'm like, Oh shit, that's right, I'm supposed to be taking those. She reminded me over the weekend to not forget my meds and I was like, "Oh right, thanks" then I just took one out of the bottle and pretended to take it. As I put the cap back on the bottle, I just slipped the pill back in. Anyway, Kira got a call from my doctor today and he said he wanted to check in on my meds to see how it's going. She was like, "Oh yeah, he seems to be doing really well on them." Then she put the doctor on speaker phone and I was like, "Uh, yeah, all good so far." The point of me saying all this is that I'm afraid to start taking the medication now. First, I'm afraid that I'm going to get caught lying about it and they're going to be pissed at me. But also I'm afraid that if I suddenly fall ill now they're going to make me get a COVID test since stomach issues and headaches can be a sign of the virus. And I don't want to do any of that. The reason it's hard to just say, "Oh, I didn't start taking it yet" is that I have an extensive history of not taking my medication as directed. Like, to the extent that at one point she was keeping all of my medication on her and watching me take them/checking to make sure I actually swallowed them. Ya know, like they do in the hospital. I don't want her to think I lied about it because it's a seriously contentious issue with us. But, in my defense, the reason I lied about it is because they were so adamant that I start taking the medication immediately. I tried to say I'd start them later the next week or something because I didn't feel well, but the doctor was like, "No, you go ahead and start tonight." So, I dunno, if anyone has any advice there I'm all ears. Okay, moving on. I'm sad because back in September we had a prompt about what we would do if we could do anything for 24 hours and then reverse it: "Invalid Entry" Now it's the middle of November and my answer is pretty much the same. I would visit my family and friends who I haven't seen since March. I have young nieces and nephews, one who I've never even held or anything, and the others who have totally forgotten who I am because they're like 2 and under. Eight months is a really long time to not see someone when you're 2 years old. It's hard too because the rest of my family are still seeing each other. I just know that they're all going to get sick with all the family events they do together. They asked me if I'd drive over to go to Thanksgiving dinner next week. I was like bro, no... On my perfect day, this virus doesn't exist. I'd like to have my nieces and nephews visit the city where I live so we could go to the aquarium. I think they'd dig it. My perfect day would be like wake up, go to a breakfast diner because I've not had restaurant food since March. Then go with my family to the aquarium and maybe the children's museum. Then after lunch, all of my family leaves and goes back to their state. Because then I'm getting ready to go to a show with Kira and all my friends. I haven't been to a concert in so long because I was in my senior year of university last year and I had to take summer classes too. There was so little free time. I think I only went to a handful of small shows and NO festivals. After the show, we'd go bar hopping and get completely plastered, as is tradition. The night would bleed into the morning as those nights tend to do. I won't think about the next day because the hangover isn't part of my perfect day. If anything, this virus has taught me that the quote I have at the end of this entry is so true. All year we've had to manage something that was completely out of our personal control. We've had to manage people who aren't as careful as us, people who refuse to take basic precautions. We've had to come to terms with the fact that we can't control those people. We can't control the virus. The only thing that's actually in our control is our own actions. It has been really difficult, especially for those of us who are highly emotional and quick to anger. I very rarely go out anywhere, but when I do it's really hard for me to not start a fight with people who aren't wearing masks or are wearing them around their chin. I just keep reminding myself that I don't want to be exchanging bodily fluids with the person. I think all of us have demonstrated next level patience this year with everything that has happened. And we've all probably had many moments in our head like, Let it go. You can't control that person. Just handle things that are within your control. It helps sometimes. Stoic Thought of the Day: "We should always be asking ourselves - is this something that is, or is not, in my control?" -Epictetus |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Write about the biggest risk you ever took. What was the result? Ah, so many thoughts and feelings seeing this prompt... I'm impulsive. I do a lot of dangerous shit. I'd say the number one reason I lose friends is because they get sick of worrying about me. I've had that conversation more than a few times. "I'm not just going to sit around and watch you get yourself killed." "If you don't care, I don't care." It's rough. I'm getting better. One thing I'll say with certainty is that your bar for 'risky' gets raised substantially when you need something. I mean, it's surprising what we'll do in the name of survival. You'd do things totally out of character, beyond risky, if you felt like you needed to. I can think of so many situations where I did something dangerous and had that sinking feeling like... oh no. I'll pick one that wasn't overly disturbing for the sake of anyone who reads this. So, I was like 16 and I was bouncing around from place to place, getting help from random people. Most of my days were sketchier than I would have liked. One of my friends was supposed to pick me up downtown one night and he was pretty late. I had my backpack so I leaned it against the side of a building and I was lying back on it waiting for my friend to show up because we were supposed to go to some party. It was probably like 10:30 or 11 o'clock at night. Some guy comes up to me and he's like, "Hey, kid, what are you doing?" I looked up thinking it might be building security. He was just like standard middle age dude. White hair, goatee, glasses, probably 5'11, 200lbs, wearing dress slacks with a collared button up tucked in. There were a bunch of bars and restaurants in the area so it's not like the sidewalks were empty or anything. Well, I didn't respond because I was like I don't know you, so whatever. He walks over and bumps the sole of my boot with his shoe and he's like, "Kid, I'm talking to you." I'm like, "Mind your own fucking business. Keep walking." He starts laughing and he's like, "You want a hot meal? I live right nearby, just on my way back from [somewhere I didn't know the name of, but assumed it was a bar]." I told him I was waiting for a friend so I was good. We went back and forth for a couple minutes with him saying shit like, you know, "You're all bones. Come on. Let me get you a hot plate. I know you're hungry. I'm a nice dude. Nothing weird going on. Just a nice guy. Wanna help you out. You're too young to be out here alone this late." I don't know if I was just really hungry or if I was sick of waiting for my friend or what, but I made this snap decision like, "Yeah, you live right here? Okay, yeah, let's go." So we're walking together and I notice immediately that his place is a bit farther than he'd told me. I think he said he lived a couple blocks, but it was more like 6 blocks or something. I was kind of getting this uneasy feeling, but the conversation was chill. You know, lighthearted. Exchanging first names, asking me where I'm from and that kind of stuff. As I'm walking with him, I notice other people on the sidewalks kind of glancing at us. For reference, when I was 16, I looked maybe 13 at most. I was like scrawny, tiny. So I'm a little uneasy, but he's telling me about his job and his wife who he says he separated from a while ago and they're trying to finalize their divorce and all this stuff. He's got this apartment downtown now and she's back in the suburbs with his kids. She won't let him see them. Basic family drama bullshit. All normal. We get to his apartment building and we go up to his apartment. He lets me in and flips on the lights. Everything looks normal, if not a bit empty. Like no dining room table or anything. Just a two-seat couch in the living room and a small tv in front of it. Then he's like, "Here, you can put your stuff in my bedroom." And he's kind of directing me like, "Yeah, straight back. Down the hallway." I don't know what it was, but you know when people say the hair on the back of their neck stood up or whatever? Well that happened in that moment. I think I almost got like a cold chill. I felt really scared suddenly. He noticed and he was like, "Hey, everything's cool. You don't need to be worried. I'm a nice guy." Kind of that whole spiel again. He's like, "Come on, let's take your stuff back here and I'll heat you up some soup or something. You like grilled cheese?" I knew then it wasn't normal because, obviously, it's like why does my shit need to go in your bedroom? All I have is a backpack. I can just drop it in the doorway. But he was really like directing me to go so I started walking to the back of the apartment down a short hallway. We get to his bedroom and he flips the light on. No bedside tables or dressers or anything, just a bed and a metal bar headboard and bed frame. He tells me I can just toss my backpack onto the bed. And as I do that, he slams into me from behind knocking me onto the bed. We start kind of like fighting or wrestling with each other and all of a sudden I hear click. I look up and he's got my right wrist handcuffed to one of the metal bars on the bed frame. Of all the times in my life that I've panicked, this wasn't one of them. I felt like a gazelle that had been caught by a cheetah. You know how they just lay down? It was like I instantly accepted my fate, and I remember so vividly my thought process was just like, Damn, Charlie, you seriously messed up. That really sucks. Almost like I was just disappointed. I didn't scream or fight or do anything. I just laid there with that feeling. He was just staring at me with a completely blank expression. It was totally silent. And then as quickly as he'd cuffed my wrist, he laughed and said, "I'm just fucking with you, kid" and uncuffed me. Then he walked out of the room into the kitchen and started rummaging around in the cabinets. I still had no reaction at all. It's crazy to say now, but I didn't even leave. In fact, I left my backpack on his bed. Just walked back out to the living room and sat on the couch. I felt like this massive void inside of me. Just utter emptiness. I didn't feel anything except this hole in me. He didn't say anything. He made me soup from a can that comes out in one can-shaped lump. He brought it over to me and apologized for not having a table or at least a TV tray. He said he was planning on buying a bigger place once his divorce was finalized. He went into his bathroom while I ate. He came out a little while later and took the bowl from me and started washing the dishes. I stood up and I was like, "Hey, I should go because my friends are probably waiting for me." And he was just like, "Okay, don't forget your bag." So I walked to his room, watching my back this time, but he stayed at the kitchen sink. I was like, "Well... thanks for the soup." He was like, "Yeah, no problem." Then I just walked out. Once I got back down to the street level, everything felt surreal. Now I know I was feeling derealization, but I didn't have that word at the time, so I started aimlessly wandering around downtown. Not really thinking about or feeling anything. I wound up at a different friend's house. I had helped him move in a couple weeks before that in exchange for some pills. He was living in a tiny studio apartment with just a mattress on the floor. His boxes were still packed and just stacked up where we'd left them. His girlfriend was mega pissed because I woke them up at like 2 or 3 in the morning. I asked them if I could sleep there and he was kind of like, "Um, we don't really have anywhere for you to sleep." They didn't even have a couch or anything. I was like, "Please, I'm so tired. Can I just lay down on the floor?" His girlfriend luckily softened up then and said of course. So she gave me one of their pillows and a blanket. I just laid down in the hardwood floors and instantly passed out. Like the fastest I've ever fallen asleep. And that was it. All in all, a fine result. Plus I got some soup out of it. But it was just a strange situation that I never quite worked out. I don't know what happened in that moment between me and this dude. I've thought about it since and I'm leaning toward thinking the guy might have actually been a police officer. I mean, who else can produce handcuffs that quickly and snap them on so deftly? But I don't know what his actual intent was. I don't know if he really was just messing around with a sense of humor that I'll never be able to comprehend. Or if he was trying to teach me a lesson like, "Hey, dumbass, don't go with random people because they could easily hurt you." Or if he had intended to actually hurt me, but wasn't able to follow through once the opportunity presented itself. There's no real way of knowing, but not one of my better judgment calls to say the least. Stoic Thought of the Day: I came as flowers, I came as nice. I came as dirt, and I came as its price. -Modest Mouse |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: What does “a good life” mean to you? Ya know, I don't think I really have the answer to this. I was in group therapy one time and the session leader posed the question: If you had no mental health struggles, no past traumas, how would your life be? One of the guys answered first. Really smart and well-spoken guy. He said that he thinks he'd get further in his career faster if not for his mental health issues because when he falls into a depressive episode, he's not productive at work. He feels like he's missed out on promotions and other opportunities because his work output and attitude are inconsistent. The session leader turns to me then and asks, "What about you, Charlie?" I didn't know the answer then, and I don't know the answer now. What would my life be like if all of my experiences weren't mine? Anything I could say would be an exercise in creativity. I was trying to earn brownie points at this time in therapy, so I tried to answer anyway. "Well, I wouldn't have panic attacks. I would sleep better... I wouldn't have compulsions." Another group member interrupted me and said, "But, Charlie, all you're doing is using a lot of words to say that you wouldn't have mental health issues if you didn't have mental health issues." The group leader stepped in and said, "That's right. In this scenario, we've already established that you don't have mental health issues, no compulsions, no panic attacks. The question is how would your life look in that scenario?" When I saw this prompt, that group discussion immediately jumped to mind. You don't get to have a good life. You get to have the life that you're handed, and you do your best with it, but that doesn't make it a good life. I don't care about a good life. I care about being a good person. Because that I can control. And I'm not even in the ballpark of perfect, but I've designated a few rules for myself that align with my idea of being a "good" person. I stand up for people who can't stand up for themselves. I have always stuck my neck out for the underdog. I used to get in fights in school because I couldn't stand to see someone being bullied. I would always stand up and throw myself into the middle of it because I would rather get hurt myself than to watch another person get hurt. To this day, I stand up for people regularly. When people are gossiping about someone at the office, I jump in and say things like, "Hey, we have no idea what's going on in their personal life. We shouldn't be judging each other so harshly." Even on the internet when I see hatred or negativity toward people, I jump in. Is it an exercise in futility? Yes. But if even one person who is hurt by that hatred sees that someone has their back and feels a little better for half of a second, it's worth it to me. I allow myself to be sensitive and empathetic, even when it makes me look and feel weak. I can't even begin to estimate the amount of times I've been called a pussy or a faggot in my life because I'm being sensitive or empathetic. Toxic masculinity is so deeply ingrained in our society. I remember specific incidents in school where a group of people would start picking on someone and then one of them would say, "Oh, we better stop or nancy boy over here is gonna start crying" in reference to me. Clearly, it hasn't stopped me from being in tune with my emotions. I try to do no harm. One of the reasons why something like getting in a fight or having a friend ghost me upsets me so much is because I try so hard to not hurt people, physically or emotionally. I don't want to be someone who hurts people. I have a theory that, at the very least, you should just leave people alone. If you disagree with their lifestyle, their choices, their religion, whatever... just leave them alone. I live by the idea that it isn't my place to control other people. And so I follow that. The bare minimum I can do is leave someone alone, and anything I do beyond that should be positive and helpful- not harmful. There are days I can't stand myself. But generally speaking, I just self-reflect often, apologize as needed, and accept people and things as they come. Is it a good life? I don't know that it's important to me either way. If I behave as a good person, my life can have good value, regardless of how I personally feel on any given day. Stoic Thought of the Day: “All cruelty springs from weakness.” -Seneca |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Describe an epiphany or "a moment when you suddenly feel that you understand, or suddenly become conscious of, something that is very important to you" that had a profound effect on your life and/or personal opinions. Pretty much exhausted with myself at the moment... My friend still isn't talking to me. I don't know if it's the timing of getting ghosted with my week going kind of wonky on me, but I'm really not handling it super well. I'm super embarrassed by how, like, desperately I'm trying to figure out what I did wrong. I always resort to using emotional pleas with people because I am an emotional person, but also because they always work on me. I tried to to tell them like, "My BPD is getting really triggered because I can't handle getting abandoned by people." And, "You promised you wouldn't do this to me." And, "Please at least tell me what I did wrong so I can try to fix it. I don't want to torture myself over the infinite possibilities of ways I've fucked up." Radio silence. Now I'm like big yikes because I obviously look totally insane repeatedly texting someone who's, ya know, not responding. I just really don't handle that like sudden drop in communication well regardless of who it is. I have no problem with owning up to my bullshit, but I can't do that without knowing what I've done wrong. I would also never do that to someone. People have done completely inexcusable things to me and I'll still respond to them because they're still a human and they still matter. So, now that I feel as small as a fleck of dust, I'm going to try really hard to just let it go. It's hard because I'll get like a wave of anger or confusion and I'm used to being able to text that person and get a response, so I'm like maybe if I just word it in the right way. But, yeah. Just bad. STFU, Charlie. Alright, let's talk epiphanies. I must really believe in giving myself a long leash because it takes several epiphanies before I actually implement any change. I had many sudden realizations leading up to me going to college. I was mixed up in drugs in a bad way. The whole year before I actually got myself registered, I would have a sudden uncomfortably cognizant moment where I'd be like, "This isn't working, my dude. Gotta try something else." And then I'd get high and not worry about it again for a couple months. You know, this topic is a struggle for me because my mental health was so much better back then. Like, not even comparable. My mental health really started breaking apart during my years in university. I think a large part of it was not escaping through drugs as much. I had to suddenly face all of these issues that I'd kept buried for a long time. During college, I half exposed and dragged these things up through stints in rehab, hospitals, and outpatient therapy. I never followed through with any program fully, primarily because of $$$$$. But that left all these exposed nerves for me to deal with alone now. So that's what I do now. I'll have flashes of memories I never would have had in my days of heavy drug use. Just eating a bagel in the morning and suddenly hit with a flashback. Initially, this would cause a lot of panic attacks, but I've slowly become numb to these things. Now I dissociate easily, just totally disconnect myself and feel like not even a real person, which I assume is my brain's way of protecting those exposed nerves. Those initial epiphanies though are what made me register for classes. "This isn't working" slowly evolved into "What might work better" which evolved into me signing up for community college classes. I was still not ready to profoundly change my path though. That first year of classes I was balancing old habits with my new responsibilities. It took several more epiphanies for me to actually engage in what I was doing and take it seriously. I think I'm thankful for those epiphanies, which were really just brief moments of cognizance in the haze, because they motivated me to try to do something more with my life. I started taking university super seriously and had a good job lined up at graduation. It's really all a college student could hope for. But I do have that voice in the back of my head that's like, "You were doing better before." I know I probably wasn't actually doing better before, but it 100% feels that way. And maybe my early/mid-twenties would have been an issue anyway. That's what one of my therapists told me... that a lot of mental health issues emerge in your twenties. Maybe it would have happened regardless. I mean, I already had mental health issues, but the constant day-to-day struggle wasn't there- at all. I only cared about one thing then and it made my entire life streamlined. Nothing else mattered. Now I have a million things to worry about and I have to be cognizant for all of it. I pretty much don't enjoy it. I just want to be a normal person. I don't want to be me. Stoic Thought of the Day: Well I want a better place, or just a better way to fall. -Modest Mouse |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Write about a disagreement you had with someone. What happened? Was the conflict resolved? Ha, wasn't this prompt just handpicked for me... Where was this a few days ago? Honestly, I have a tremendously difficult time getting along with people consistently. I'm at the point where I understand that I'm the common denominator, but I still don't fully understand what I'm doing wrong. Pretty much all of my interpersonal relationships are messed up. Like, we'll get along super well and talk constantly and then suddenly we're fighting and both super emotional. The only people this doesn't happen with are people that aren't very emotional at all. We still fight but it's not explosive or anything. I think it's probably because having borderline personality disorder makes me feel emotions way too intensely. So I'm very reactive when someone upsets me. It's so hard for me to just sit with those emotions and not act on them. Most recently (yes, even more recently than the fight), I woke up this morning with a text from one of my friends saying, "Don't talk to me." That's it. Just don't talk to me. No explanation, nothing. We haven't talked since earlier this week and the last conversation didn't end poorly as far as I knew. And by the way, I should pause here to say that this person is also a WDC member who's rarely here, but just in case they do read this just to say... please respond to my shit so I can fix whatever's wrong. I swear I'll listen and not act crazy. And also .But anyway, my point is even when I'm trying to not have disagreements, I just have them. I know normal people could get that message and just kind of let it go or give the person space. I have so much difficulty doing that. I hate being abandoned and I'm just like please communicate with me and let me answer for myself. I don't even care if someone is pissed off at me, but I need the chance to like plead my case. My typical method of resolving conflict doesn't work though. Depending on my mood, I can go one of two ways when I'm dealing with conflict. I'm either very submissive, quick to apologize even if I don't think I did anything wrong, basically just "what do you need to hear to stop being angry at me?" Alternatively, if I'm in a different mood, I can just suddenly snap and get super emotional- whether that's rage or crying or something else. The reason it doesn't work is because if I do the first one, people don't think I'm sincere. They can tell I'm just saying what I'm supposed to say, like going through the motions. The second way doesn't work because I'm not thinking rationally at that point and even if the other person tries to calm me down it's basically too late. I've done a lot to try to gain better control of my emotions. One of my therapists introduced me to a feelings chart  like this so that I could better identify and express what I'm feeling. You start at the center of the wheel and pick your primary emotion, then you go to the second level and pick another feeling you're having so that you can go to the final level and say what's really happening.For example, if you're angry you start there, then the next level you might say that you're angry + irritable so your actual emotion = annoyed or aggravated. I use it for things like, "I feel sad + ashamed, so what I'm actually feeling is guilt." Or, "I feel surprised + confused, so I'm feeling disillusioned." It's not perfect, but it does come in handy sometimes. I've definitely had arguments where I'm like, I'm so angry... I mean, I'm just disgusted... "I'm REVOLTED." And the other person is probably like "?????"Of course, this doesn't help me control my emotions. It just helps me identify what's actually happening in my brain so that I can try to explain it to someone else. I've also done dialectical behavior therapy which is meant to help regulate your emotions. I've done it both in individual therapy and group therapy. Um, therapy hasn't ever worked for me. I hate to say that because I try to advocate for mental health treatments, but it's just never reached its intended purpose for me. Likely because my emotions and thought patterns are so disturbed that I can't give it the chance it needs to work. I just tell half truths because I don't want to dig into stuff or talk about it. My conflicts rarely get actually resolved. I do the whole rollercoaster thing so we just go back to loving each other without really coming to any kind of resolution except, "I love you and I'm done fighting for now." Then there's a blissful honeymoon period followed by another fallout. It's as healthy as it sounds. One thing I can add is that I've had a lot of political disagreements in recent years. Some things that people say make me feel *looks at emotion wheel* mortified and hostile. I’m constantly reminding myself that I care about the person and their politics shouldn’t completely cloud that. It gets truly difficult depending on what they’re saying or doing. For years I was fairly successful at taking the person for all of who they are and not letting that get in the way. It was like religion to me. We don’t have to agree. We can all do our own thing. The pandemic has made it so much more difficult. I had a coworker tell me last week, “See! I told you covid would disappear after the election!” I told them I don’t understand what they’re saying; our covid numbers are a nightmare. I’m genuinely *looks at emotions wheel* perplexed by these types of conversations. I don’t even have the will to have disagreements about these topics anymore. They broke my brain. Now I just feel *looks at feelings wheel* powerless. I can’t wait for things to go back to “normal” if they ever can. Then the only disagreements I’ll have to worry about are the personal ones I have regularly with every single person I care about. What a relief that will be. Stoic Thought of the Day: "If my fear has kept me here, only my fear can set me free.” -La Dispute |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Imagine you are invited to a party celebrating your favorite book. The dress code asks you to dress up as your favorite character. Who or what do you dress up as? Bleh. I'm just crawling out of my skin today. I'm having a significant amount of trouble keeping up with the challenge at this point. When I drop out of 30DBC, it's almost always because my mental health is suddenly in a free fall and I have to give up everything except trying to stay, ya know, alive or whatever. I'm trying to stay with it right now because I don't want to fully succumb to the episode I've fallen into. I'm trying to keep doing things outside of work like reading and writing my entries. I think it's important to have those things. I don't get why my brain is the way it is. I was supposed to start taking new antidepressants last Thursday, but I haven't. I don't want to deal with the side effects on top of everything else I have going on. I told myself I would start them Monday night, but then all that drama happened and now I'm literally too depressed to take antidepressants. Is that irony? It's not even about the fight. I mean, maybe that was the initial trigger, but I don't know. I actually saw the guy after work today. I didn't let him come up to the apartment, but I brought his things down for him so that Lauren wouldn't have to see him. It was mildly contentious at best worst. He did apologize again, but then kind of ruined it by making a comment about how I have yet to apologize. I told him I have nothing to apologize for and he showed me that he has a couple bruises from me "freaking out for no reason." I just shrugged and asked if he had everything he needed. He said he did so I turned around and started walking back toward my apartment, but when I was walking away he said, "That's why nobody likes you, because you're PSYCHOOOO!" There was no one around to even hear him. I didn't turn back around, I just went inside. I think it's fine if he gets the last word. Hopefully he's gone for good now. I was happy with that resolved, but it didn't stop the spiral. I was having a bunch of intrusive thoughts and I kept having to do compulsions to try to get them to go away. I try really hard not to do compulsions in front of people because I feel like they get angry at me when I do. Not that I'm doing anything weird per se. I mean it is weird, but it's not like inappropriate. It's more like tapping, pacing, counting. I get physical tics, like twitching and shaking my head. Kira and Lauren were in the kitchen cooking dinner so I was in the bedroom with the door shut just totally giving in to the compulsion because I wanted to try to calm down so I could eat. Kira walked in to ask me something about the food and caught me mid-compulsion which was really embarrassing for me. Especially because she immediately asked what I was doing. I said I was just cleaning up the bedroom. Then she launched into this big lecture about how I'm not supposed to be doing compulsions. I'm supposed to just let the intrusive thoughts come and go like the doctor said. Of course Lauren overheard all of this because our place is tiny and she was like, "Oh no, is he doing compulsions again?" in like the saddest, most empathetic tone ever which infuriated me. I was already embarrassed, but as stupid as it sounds, my compulsion got interrupted so I had to start over and finish properly. I was extremely agitated and I didn't know how to say that I had to finish after denying that I was doing it at all. So I just started screaming like, "Get out. Get the fuck out. Leave me the fuck alone" and I slammed the bedroom door and locked it. I was so anxious and high strung I kept messing up the compulsion then. I kept counting wrong or doing the wrong thing and I had to keep restarting from the beginning. By the time I was finished, I was emotionally exhausted. I just collapsed on the floor and I kept thinking, I don't know how much longer I can do this. It was just awful. Obviously I'm still feeling rattled because I haven't even touched the prompt yet. I'm waiting for Em, Jim, and the other judges to just DQ me and tell me to blog elsewhere, which would be totally fair.  But, let me think... If I were going to a party, I would probably want to be comfortable. I would dress as Holden from The Catcher in the Rye. So essentially like my WDC avatar which is the cover of the book. Red hunting hat with ear flaps is perfect for winter. That alone would be enough to identify the character for anyone who has read the book. If you're ever bored, there's actually a 76-page paper analyzing the fashion J.D. Salinger uses in his writing. The answers to the prompt should be interesting because fashion often isn't the highlight of a book. I mean maybe if you choose The Great Gatsby. But it isn't usually the focal point where I'd be able to pick a character out based on someone being dressed as the character. I'm probably thinking too inside the box though because I read mostly realistic fiction or horror/thriller with realistic elements. Someone who reads sci-fi or fantasy might have more obvious options. Stoic Thought of the Day: "I think you saw me confronting my fear. It went up with the bottle and went down with the beer.” -La Dispute |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: What is your favorite meal to make when you are really hungry? Yeah, I dunno, I can't. I don't know what's going on with me. I've just been spiraling out today. I'm assuming it's a combination of the fight yesterday, not sleeping much, and being in pain. I found myself just ruminating a lot this afternoon. It got worse and worse while I was working until I couldn't get any work done anymore. Then I started getting even more agitated because I wasn't being productive. All of that anger started turning inward and my thoughts started getting way off track, like I started thinking about things they didn't even happen this week. I started feeling really self-destructive and like I needed to self-harm so that I could try to get a grip on the spiral before it got too out of control. But I've been trying to cope in other ways so I tried journaling first. It didn't work though because as I was writing about how I was feeling, my emotions were spiraling even more out of control. I was having a few different conversations at the time and I started spinning out/shutting down on everyone. I could only think about self-harming. I have OCD and it feels similar to needing to do a compulsion. It's like you can't even distract yourself with something else. The need just builds up and the longer you put it off the more intense your anxiety and emotions get until you just buckle and give in. I've been trying to use an OCD technique which I learned in therapy. The basic idea is that you postpone doing a compulsion for as long as you can and then maybe someday you can postpone it indefinitely. I'm having mixed results. All of this was a long way to say that I didn't have dinner today and I'm slightly hungry now. I have a different perspective on hunger after not having food often in my teens. When I get "hungry" now it's more like eh, I could eat. It's not like really hungry because I already had both breakfast and lunch today. I like breakfast foods at night if I'm hungry, but not so much in the morning. I also eat a lot of Mediterranean food because it's the best. Stoic Thought of the Day: "There are moments here, only yours and mine, tiny dots on an endless timeline.” -La Dispute |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: What is your blogging style? In your response, consider the following questions: What is your process of writing a blog entry - do you plan it out in advance, or just start writing? Who is your ideal reader? How did your unique blogging style emerge? Has your blog changed over time? So, um, I was not very stoic today... To give some background information... Well, wait. First, I got in a fight today. However, this was completely not my fault. I know this is unrelated to the prompt, but this is my blog so bear with me while I vent about this situation, or just skip down further.To give some background information, Kira's best friend has been living with us for several years. I'm fine with her living with us, but I've had an issue this year with her boyfriend. The issue started because my wife's friend, Lauren, wanted to go back and forth between my apartment and her boyfriend's apartment that he shares with a few other guys during the beginning of the pandemic. This was back in March when the state first locked down and you weren't allowed to do like anything non-essential. I told her she could not go between our place and Erik's place during the pandemic. Like, just no. Either go move in with him and see him all the time, or stay here and don't see him at all. I pay the bills so I feel like I'm fully within my right to say that. Well this really pissed Erik off because he felt like I was telling his girlfriend what she could or could not do. Since then, it has been nothing but problems. He's accused her of cheating on him with me, he's called me a faggot a bunch of times. And yes, I do see the irony in calling someone a faggot while simultaneously saying that hooked up with your girlfriend. Regardless, I've been growing increasingly weary of this situation. They've been breaking up then getting back together at least a couple times a month this year. He and I have almost gotten into multiple fights. Basically, this whole thing has just been building up for months. This morning I was working in my bedroom and I was on a conference call when Lauren dipped her head in the room and told me that she and Erik were fighting again and he wanted to come pick up some of his belongings that he claimed she had in her possession. I kind of waved her off like whatever because I'm in a meeting. An hour later I was in the kitchen making lunch and Erik shows up. He's super agitated right off the bat because he and his girlfriend are fighting. Now, I have no intention of fighting or getting involved in any way. But then he walks into my apartment and goes over to where Lauren is standing and he's like, "Move, cunt." I'm not one of those people who is offended by words. I think you give them power and they become offensive. But this still really pissed me off because it's like you burst into my apartment during my lunch break and start calling people names and acting aggressive. Just, no. So I walked over and I was like, "Yo, you're not gonna come into my fucking apartment calling people names. Get your shit and get the fuck out. Now." He didn't say anything at all. He just turned away like he was going to get his stuff, so I'm like okay cool, and I turn to walk away too. But as I'm turning away, I see in my peripheral vision that he's swinging on me. I kind of dodged out of the way so he hit like the back of my neck/shoulder, but he was trying to sucker punch me in the back of the head. Like wtf. In my own house?? Even though I wasn't hurt, I got furiously angry that he tried to do this. I knocked him to the ground and started dragging him toward my apartment door to kick him out. As I'm doing this, Kira and Lauren start screaming, like seriously screaming like I'm murdering him or something. I wasn't even hurting him. So I get to the front door of my apartment and I swing it open to throw him out and when I did that, my neighbor across the hall opened her door too. She's a single mom with a little kid, he's maybe like 8 or something. And she looks at me and screams, "Stop! Stop it! I'm calling the police!!" Me and this guy were both like, "Noo, don't. Everything's fine." He was like, "I'm leaving, I'm leaving" and just kinda took off. Then I'm standing there with my angry neighbor and both girls in the apartment behind me in varying states of panic. I've only met my neighbor once since June and it was when she was with her kid and he showed me his little dinosaur toy in the hallway. I just felt bad about the whole situation. She was obviously pissed off and said she shouldn't have to deal with my bullshit in the middle of the day, and I was just like, "Yeah, I know, I'm really sorry. It won't happen again." She just went back inside and basically slammed the door. I went back into my apartment and Lauren was like hysterically crying even though nothing happened and no one was hurt. I told her she has to either leave this dude for good or move tf out because I'm not doing this anymore. It's complete bullshit to have to literally drag someone out of my apartment in the middle of my work day because they're getting violent for no reason. Now everyone's super annoyed with me and not really talking to me. Kira said that I always have to escalate every situation by losing my temper. She must have talked to Logan because he messaged me later and said that I always give people the reaction that they're looking for and like that if someone wants to provoke me I'm easily provoked. I don't get it. I thought I showed a ton of self-restraint in the situation. Someone swung at me from behind in my own house and I didn't like go ham on him or anything. I definitely lost my temper, but I'm pretty sure almost every person would have done the same. They told me that because I mostly dodged out of the way I could have just told him to leave and said I'd call the police if he didn't. But that didn't really cross my mind in that exact second. I mean, it just isn't how I reacted. The frustrating part to me though is that I'm the only one who has anything to lose in the situation. I'm the only one whose life would get super derailed by getting arrested. Like, I'm the only one with a good job. He doesn't have to care because he works menial jobs that he quits after two months. So, I don't know. I'm trying to kind of decompress and think about how I could have handled it better, but at the same time I keep getting pissed all over again because I feel like I’m being treated as though I totally lost it, but I didn’t. Then I just start thinking that I might as well have hit him because then I’d at least feel a little better and people are going to be annoyed with me regardless. Blah, I need to sleep. I don’t really know what I’m trying to say except that I feel frustrated because instead of being on my side they just say I could have handled it better and that we were “both” in the wrong. We all know how much I love the “both sides” thing right now. Alright, sorry, vent over. This is actually a good summary of my blog though. It’s like 50% upset rambling about my life and 50% answering prompts. My style started as vignettes during the first Soundtrackers challenge. Then it became more straightforward with me answering prompts and also acting like I’m writing in a personal journal that no one’s ever going to read. I don’t really have a blogging process. I just jump into writing and I clearly don’t edit my entries at all. That’s why I’ll get semi-incoherent at times. There are times where my entries are written exactly as I’d talk when telling a friend something that happened. I might get caught up in the situation because I’m upset. It probably isn’t optimal style-wise, but it’s mine. I hope it’s easy to follow more often than not, and on a day like today when I’m upset, I just have to let myself get things off my chest before I can pull myself together for the prompt. And speaking of prompts, they’re a starting point. I’ll answer every prompt in my entry, but it’s not like that’s the only thing that’s going on with me. Other things take precedence in my blog sometimes because they’re taking precedence in my mind. If a prompt doesn’t fit me or doesn’t fit a specific day, I’ll find a way to wrap around to it while still saying what I need to say that day. My ideal reader is definitely someone who has an open mind. I try to be sensitive, but I don’t live the most, um, palatable life? I certainly don’t try to be offensive at all, but if you have a tendency to be easily turned off by kind of gritty or darker stuff, I’d certainly not recommend my blog. There are a lot of things I don’t write about because I don’t want to worry people much or disturb them at all. That being said, I really appreciate and value perspectives that are different than mine. I don’t have a lot of very experienced/older people who I can talk to in real life when I’m lost or confused. I can’t go to my parents and ask for help because we don’t have that relationship. My grandmother was kind of my go-to person when I ran into an “adult” problem. I could always go to her and be like, “I think I messed up. Am I bad person?” She was always super honest, but she also had incredible emotional capacity. Just like a deep well of love and caring and compassion for other humans. Every time something happens now, good or bad, I wish I could tell her. When I got my job offer last winter, my first thought was, "Oh I can't wait to tell Grandma." I still do that five years later. I always wonder what she would think of me or what she would say to me. I try to imagine what advice she would give. It hurts so much to barely be able to remember her voice. But I find pieces of her out in the world now. My blog is one of those places where I've found human compassion and empathy. I've received messages from people I've never talked to before, telling me how they relate to what I've said or giving me honest advice that comes from a place of worry and caring. And I'm reminded that those traits my grandmother encompassed didn't die with her. There is still genuine love and caring in the world. It doesn't feel the same. It's not like someone shoveling endless love into the parts of me that are missing. But no matter how brief or in what capacity, it makes me think of her and fills me for a moment. That's why I blog the way that I do. That's why I overshare when I probably shouldn't or allow myself to dwell when I should just move on. By being vulnerable and open, I find new pieces that fill some of the empty spaces. Stoic Thought of the Day: "If I do not miss a part of you, a part of me is dead.” -La Dispute |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Write about something you own that is weird, wacky, or downright silly. Where did you get it and what significance does it hold for you? Ah, well, I hate to be me but I’m not really a keeper of things. Do you remember when those minimalism books got popular a few years ago? There were a bunch of books about decluttering your life, tidying up, and throwing things out if they don’t “spark joy" or whatever. Anyway, I've been doing that pretty much forever. I think this is a habit from moving a lot and having little storage space. If I’m not using something, I don’t need to have it around taking up space. When I move sometimes I discover something I haven’t used in a year or two. I usually don’t even remember that I had it. In those situations, I get rid of whatever it is because what’s the point in having things around that I don’t even remember having? So as you can imagine, my space is pretty bare. The only things I keep that I don’t use a lot are my journals and important documents. I have a small bookshelf just with my favorite books and records on it because I’ve sold the rest. Other than that, all I have is my clothes, electronics, furniture, and dishes. I wish I could say that I have some wacky dishes, but it would be a lie. I have a matching dish set. I don’t collect anything. I have a lot of pens and notebooks but nothing of note. I don’t know if it’s from having OCD or not, but I wouldn’t bring something silly into my house. I know this because I’ve been forced to do those white elephant gift exchange things for family holidays and I’ve never brought home anything I was gifted. Last year I ended up with a cat book that just read “meow” like 7000 times. It was cute and silly, but when it came time to leave it’s not something I would bring with me. I ended up discreetly giving it to my niece because she got a kick out of it. To bring something silly like that into my house would be like asking me to go outside and bring a leaf into my house. Like... what am I supposed to do with it? Maybe if I had a house with plenty of space for storage I would eventually get into the habit of keeping more things regardless of their usefulness. But I kind of doubt it because it doesn’t mesh with my personality I don’t think. Stoic Thought of the Day: " Be tolerant with others and strict with yourself.” -Marcus Aurelius |
| "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: Tell us about the most memorable adventure you've ever been on. Did everything go according to plan, or did anything unexpected happen? Whaaat’s up? Anyone else super stoked to see VP Elect Kamala Harris strutting onto stage in all white as a nod to the suffragettes? Love to see it. We have a long way to go, but every step in the right direction is important. Maybe first woman president soon?  Adventures, hmm, I’ve had a few. It’s the memorable part that trips me up. I’m not known for my profound capacity to remember things, and even less so when thinking on little to no sleep. I actually started to do those very mild insomnia hallucinations today. You know like when you think you see movement out of the corner of your eye or whatever. I thought I saw my cat walk by and but he wasn’t there when I looked. Then I looked the other way and saw that he was asleep on the couch next to me. Minor shit, but definitely a heads up that I need to sleep soon. I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping because my pain levels are flared up really bad and then I’ve been checking in on the election results all week on top of that. I’m hoping I can actually sleep tonight like more than 30 minutes here or there. But also trying not to put too much pressure on myself to sleep otherwise it will never happen because I’ll psych myself out. Come on, brain. Think of an adventure. I guess I don’t see planned vacations as an adventure really. Like, it is and it isn’t. It’s maybe a slightly adventurous activity, but adventure to me implies some kind of hazard. My brothers and I used to do a lot of adventurous things as kids. We’d explore things without really knowing where we were or what we were doing. One such time we were on a family trip to a cabin in the middle of nowhere that had no electricity or anything. The goal was basically just to hang out and disconnect from life, I think. Anyway, us three boys wanted to go explore the area after lunch. Our mom gave us that whole motherly spiel like, “Don’t venture too far. Stay on the path.” My brothers, however, were Boy Scouts at the time and they were constantly trying to outdo one another and be the leader of the pack. We were walking along a path near the woods around the cabin and they started fighting over the compass because they both were eager to be the one to call which direction we should take. I’m significantly younger than my brothers so I was just following along behind them as they were fighting over the compass. The middle of the three of us got fed up and ended up just throwing the compass as far as he could into the woods because that makes total sense to resolve a fight. All of us instantly panicked because my parents had just gotten them the compass for scouts recently and they knew we’d be in trouble for losing it. We couldn’t just go back without it, so after a quick meeting they decided we had to go into the woods and find it. I was like 5 years old at the time so I just aimlessly wandered in behind them and pretended to look for it although I was pretty sure if anyone found it, it would be one of them. The farther we got into the thick of the woods, the less and less aware of our surroundings we became. After a good half hour or so of walking around staring at the ground, the three of us reconvened. They decided we should just go back and not mention the compass. Then they’d just say it must’ve gotten lost somewhere along the way if and only if our parents brought it up. Decision made. Cool. Except I then saw their facial expressions as they began to take in our surroundings. We were in the middle of a ton of tall trees, brush, and brambles. I could feel my throat kind of tighten up because I knew that none of us knew where we were. These woods weren’t like the ones on our property at home. We weren’t familiar with them at all. This was also at the peak of summer heat, like the beginning of August. We had a little canteen of water, a Swiss army pocketknife, and no compass. After arguing about whose fault this was, my oldest brother got the brilliant idea to just walk in a straight line. “We’re bound to find our way out if we just walk in one direction for long enough.” And long enough we did walk. It felt like hours and hours to me. As the little brother, I was being exceptionally whiny. “I’m hot. My feet hurt. I’m scared.” You know, the works. To his credit though, the brilliant plan did work. After what felt like 4 hours, we found a clearing in the woods that led us to the gravel road which went to the cabin. The only problem was that the spot where we came out was like 2 or 3 miles from the cabin. If I remember correctly, I ended up just lying down in the middle of the road and crying because I couldn’t walk anymore. So then my brothers had to alternate carrying me on their backs the rest of the way to the cabin. The craziest part is that my parents had no idea. Again, I was like 5 years old so my time perception was probably off. It was maybe like 2 hours rather than the 5 hours it felt like. But regardless, our mom just glanced at us over the top of her book and was like, “Hey boys.” No fucks given. Stoic Thought of the Day: "There is no easy way from the earth to the stars.” -Seneca |
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