Wednesday, January 20, 2016

I'd Like To

I'd like to say I'm perfect and that I've made no mistakes. 
I'd like to say love is eternal and ignore my own heartache. 
I'd like to say that everything is just as it should be. 
I'd like to say I don't understand what it means to feel lonely. 
I'd like to say I know what's up and exactly where my life's headed. 
I'd like to say I have no cares and it all works out in the end. 
I'd like to say that everything turns out like one big movie. 
I'd like to say I'm full of hope and things are going groovy. 
I'd like to say that I'm carefree and focused solely on the moment. 
I'd like to toss my hands up high and shout at the world "Yeah, so what?".
I'd like to. Sure. I'd like to. But it's plain to see. 
I'd like to. Yeah. I really would. But that's not true to me. 

Saturday, January 16, 2016

Miracle on Cascade Street

Do you guys wanna hear something weird? I'm sure you do. Gather 'round, kiddies.

Yesterday I went out to breakfast by myself. It's one of my little treats I do for myself just because I'm awesome and I deserve shit like that. It's also tradition before I go to my therapy session. The nearest Coney Island for a gyro meat and feta cheese omelette, french fries instead of hash browns, and white toast. Coffee and water to drink.

If time allows, it's also an extension of my daily allotment of "me" time where I get to read, listen to new music I've been meaning to, maybe write a little bit, whatever. The rule is I can't do anything important during "me" time. Although, I could make a case for the importance of all those things. Anyway, I digress in getting to the true point of the story.

This particular morning, I had a lot of time. I got my breakfast, I read my book for about an hour, I drank a lot of coffee (bottomless refills!), and I was feeling quite pleased with myself before seeing my therapist. I had to drive straight to work after my appointment, so I was set for that with all my stuff I'd need for the day. I gather up all my things, hit the restroom, and head up to the counter to pay my bill and be on my way.

One thing some have noticed about me is I'm chronically early. Like, I'm the dude that's at work 30 minutes early just because I don't feel right if I'm not. This goes for most things in my life. I'd like to be at the movie theater early, I need to be at all concerts early, shows, whatever. If there's a specific time I need to be somewhere, I need to be there BEFORE I have to be there by a fair margin.

My appointment is at 11, which means I'm at the office by 10:35a and just chilling in the parking lot. I'm looking to maybe dust off a few more pages of the book I"m reading. I don't remember why, but I needed to get out of my car briefly and stand, so I did that. When I did, I did my little habit of checking my pockets periodically to make sure everything is there (wallet, keys, money clip, phone) and.... it's not. I dig inside my pocket to be sure and am hit with disappointment. I wasn't mistaken, something is missing. My money clip is gone. My money clip that typically has $50 in it just in case i need cash, my money clip that had a $100 gift card for a restaurant in it... my goddamn, motherfucking money clip that has FIFTY DOLLARS IN CASH THAT I CAN'T GET BACK.

I frantically search the car... it's not there. It's not under the seat, it's not in the little crack between the seat and console/door that sometimes loses stuff. It's not in my car. The only other place it could be is in the Coney Island. It probably slid out of my pocket when I grabbed my phone while I was in the booth. Maybe it dropped in the bathroom. But, it's there. There's no doubt in my mind. I call the restaurant on the extremely slim chance that someone found it and decided to turn it in.

The young girl on the other end of the line tells me nobody's turned anything like that in. I can almost hear it registering in her mind that there's a free $50 somewhere in her work area if she just finds it first. They do take my number down "just in case" it turns up. I'm not hopeful. But, at the same time (and this is a big change for me), I also am okay with this idea. Yeah, I acknowledge it sucks... but it's just money. It's not the end of the world. I can get more.

My day continues as planned. Appointment, head straight to work, come home, put on my pajamas and head to bed, all that jazz. No phone call all day. I'm still at peace with it. The thought has actually even crossed my mind that I am hopeful someone needful found it - someone who was $50 shy of rent, or maybe a parent that couldn't afford a birthday present for their kid, maybe someone facing a shutoff notice for their electricity... the possibilities are endless. Whatever though - it's gone.

Today rolls around. I get out of my PJs and into work duds. I work. I come home and get back into PJs immediately because that's just how I roll. I am thinking about heading out to a Redbox and maybe grabbing some shitty dinner. As I'm loading up my PJ pockets... there's something weird. My left hand pocket (which is typically reserved for my keys exclusively) has something in it. And, you guessed it! My money clip. No joke... and there's 8000% no way I didn't have it when I was at the restaurant and lost it. I slept in these PJs all night too and my money clip would be pokey kind of and wake me up. It also wasn't there when I put my keys in the pockets that morning as I ran out to my car to start it so it was warm.

For some reason, something like a mini-miracle happened. I was given good karma from the Universe. God decided I needed that $50 after all. Allah decided I am worthy of his many blessings. Whatever you wanna say made it happen... it did. It kinda tripped me out - but I can't help but think (in some weird type of confirmation bias) it's my reward for being so cool about it. I also kinda think it's like some sign that I'm on a good path and it's indicative of that. Or a reward again for making good choices.

I can't explain it. And, once again, I'm okay with that.

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

I. Just. Don't...

The other night I was driving home in some terribly shitty weather. We're talking icy roads, whiteout conditions and all that jazz. Our first real snow of the year and it was kind of dumping on us. I don't enjoy driving in snow as it is, so that didn't help any. My drive from work is, on a good day, maybe 30 minutes. Remember, I drive slow even when it's nice, I try not to be in a hurry unless necessary. On this night, it took me an hour and a half to get home. There were a couple moments when I was legitimately scared that something horrible might happen to me.

As I was driving, I kept thinking to myself about all the things we don't say to people for whatever reason we give ourselves. The people we don't tell how important they are to us. The people who don't tell how much we love. The people we don't tell how much we appreciate. The people that we live for - whether they know it or not.

I thought about other kinds of people too. People that we might have done wrong. People that we wish we could give apologies too but feel the proper time has passed. People we've ignored in their suffering. People we've turned out backs on for one reason or another. People that, for one reason or another, just aren't part of our lives.

I thought about these people and I thought about the things I would like to say to them. I thought about people that were in that category that aren't here any more to tell those things to. I thought about the possibility of me no longer being here to tell the ones left their importance and it all seemed very clear: I need to do this for these people whether they appreciate it or not. I need to do this for these people even if they don't take me seriously. I need to do this for me just as much as them because they deserve it and I don't want this burden.

As I was driving home and thinking these things it seemed like the most important thing in the world. I wanted to come home and reach out to everyone that I had thought of directly and immediately. I wanted to make phone calls, I wanted to send texts, I wanted to write e-mails, I wanted to send letters... but it was too late for all that and I was too tired. I needed to sleep.

So sleep I did. When I woke up the next day, everything was still on my mind. It stuck with me. But, a guy's gotta work and he doesn't have time to be calling around all day or writing messages. So to work I went and thought about it all day and again on my drive home (but this time less treacherous).

My drive in this morning was another scary one and, again, the thoughts persisted. I thought about it all the way in to work, I thought about it all day at work, and I thought about it on my (again, scary) drive home. Clearly, I'm still thinking about it.

So, whoever is reading this, I pose this question to you. Why, when I do sit down to even write a message, or make a phone call, do I stop myself? Why can't I do it? I wish I had an answer, but I don't. I. Just. Don't...

Thursday, January 7, 2016

The past couple months have been, to say the least, difficult. But, I'm not going to leave it at just saying the least. That's not the point of this blog.

A lot of changes have gone on. Some shitty, but mostly positive. I decided to do something about what has been a mostly secretly miserable existence that I've been living for the past 12 years or so and do something about it. Stop living in misery, stop bottling up feelings, stop hiding yourself away from what you're feeling, and stop hiding away from your true self. It sounds easy enough, but for someone who's been extremely careful with who he actually reveals his true self to, it's been a challenge. See, I want the real, true Adam to be visible to all... whether they like him or not.
I've never been a ray of sunshine. I never will be. But, there was a time when I was who I was and most people liked me. Then my dad's health started to deteriorate and the charade started, I guess. The game of hiding emotions began. Why? Because nobody likes someone who's constantly worrying, someone who's constantly on the verge of tears, who can't even focus on anything truly positive because he's worried he's going to lose his best friend and dad any minute.
Besides, emotion show weakness and nobody wants to appear to weak. Particularly if you're a dude.

All that emotion stayed bottled up and emotion is like anything... it goes bad after a while. It doesn't matter what it is. It gets rotten. It turns to poison. Yeah, I could keep it under control most of the time. But sometimes the facade would slip and that was never good. I wasn't being true to myself and because of that, I didn't like myself. When you don't like yourself you remember everything negative anyone has ever said about you and start to believe it. You replay it over and over in your mind and start to see everything through the tinted fog of disappointment. Not in a magical sense, but your attitude really does determine your reality. Because of this... I mostly only saw disappointment in things.

Then my dad died. I didn't know what to do. I'd never felt so lost in my life. I couldn't let anyone know though and the game continued. Because all I focused on was disappointment, negativity, and let down... that's all I saw and furthered my misery internally. After a while it just becomes "the norm" and you get numb to it all. Like working in a factory... you just do your thing, shut down, and go on autopilot. Sure, things will crop up here and there that change it up a bit... sometimes good, sometimes bad, but it always go back to the same routine. For me this routine of life turned into a case of apathy. Life was gray and there weren't different shades of it.
New car? Oh, I guess that's cool. Dog bit? That kinda sucks. Win the lottery? Eh, whatever. And so on.

Yeah, I cared about people. I cared about stuff. But after so many years of hiding it I didn't know how to express it. And, once again, the cycle continued. Meanwhile, all this poison is building up inside me. I was a prisoner in my own mind.

Somewhere though all this, I figured something out; alcohol. Booze gave me an excuse to let the poison out. Booze gave my an excuse to express that emotion that had been building up. Booze allowed me everything that had been built up and locked away to come out... the good, the bad, and the ugly.

 I never made it a daily habit or anything, but once I got started it seemed next to impossible to stop until I was ready to turn in for the night. Alcohol allowed me to stop being selective with showing people what I wanted to show and let shit fly... but I wasn't in the driver's seat. Sometimes I'd be affable, charming, goofy, funny, whatever. Other times, I'd be a poison tip lawn dart in the neck. Crude, offensive, standoffish, and unlikable.

So that's been going on for what seems like most of my life and it caught up to me. I'm disgusted and ashamed of myself for it taking an event like it did to make me realize the error of my ways and my past behavior... but all you can do is learn from your mistakes, address the issues that have presented themselves, and hope for the best. I've been doing that since late October and will continue to seek ways to continue to stay on my path of excellence - one of which includes seeing a therapist and, in the meanwhile, giving up drinking for the time while I sort shit out in my own head.

The other part, you're reading. Or maybe nobody is and I'm just writing to myself. If I am, that's fine. Because I'm finding that writing is helpful and I've got a few ideas kicking around that need expressing, so I think I'll continue to do this and eventually get into less serious, heavy stuff. But, if I could ask anyone that reads this to take something away from this long rant, it'd be this: first and foremost, don't bottle shit up. Like I said earlier, it only gets rotten and turns to poison inside you. Poison that eventually leaks. Find an outlet, find people that you can talk to, don't be afraid to be yourself because you're probably pretty goddamn awesome - even though you might not realize it and someone might think you're way more awesome than you even thought possible. Secondly, if you need to talk to someone, if you need help sorting shit out in your head like I do, then do it, dude. There is no shame in asking for help, everybody needs it from time to time.

Alright, folks, that's all I have for now. I promise you I'll be back at least weekly with something for you to ruminate on. Writing is part of my release, and I need to keep it going to keep the demons at bay...