I’ve Had Bad Experiences
I was discussing earlier in the week with my brother about our friend who’s married and how his wife won’t let him go to my brother’s bachelor party because she’s afraid that he might cheat. The excuse our friend gave my brother was, “I’ve had bad experiences in the past,” and it struck me that that is a very weak excuse for controlling your partner. Okay, we’ve all had bad experiences that we don’t wish to revisit–I get that, but are you really going to use that as the basis for your future with someone?
To me this seems like a very easy get out of jail free card. You’re not ‘controlling’ you’re just ‘guarded’ and ‘cautious’ so therefore you won’t let your partner live their life or see friends. Or dress a certain way or…whatever. It’s an excuse and like most excuses it does have a basis of truth yet it ultimately is an excuse and usually not a good one. Fear of cheating is natural. Fear of having your significant other cheat and therefore neutering him is not.
Pot And/Or Weed Users And Distributors
I’ve smoked marijuana a few times and it’s never done anything for me and I found it rather stupid, however, I believe it should very much be legal. My main problem with potheads and the distributors is there’s this utopian view among some of them that if we only legalised weed that all would be right in the world–there’d be no more wars, our economy would be flushed with cash, and all non-violent offenders could be freed. Or at least that’s the thought anyway. Now, while it’s okay to hold these views it’s a bit silly. Our jails would magically be empty and all crime would vanish? Really?
I find it hard to believe that someone would honestly believe this…that is until I was on facebook. See, I like facebook because you can say whatever you want and people can either like it or not. My ex-friend posted a bragging link that, “Ooohhh Denver has very little crime whereas Detroit and Baltimore have high crime. Now remember, we allow marijuna distribution in Colorado.” It just seemed very silly and sad and I point this out that the problem is very nuanced and she replied with, “I was only stating what people reading this would conclude.” Oh, and then she deleted me. So! I can only conclude she was embarrassed.
Tangent aside, I can’t believe people would think our problems all come down to marijuana–that it’s some sort of magic plant that will make things okay. I also see the pothead contingent of this view with comedian Bill Maher. He thinks just like this as well and I can’t help but react the same way I would with a drunk uncle or [insert relative of choice here] and their nutty theories about how 9/11 was a conspiracy and that JFK was assassinated by the mafia; which is to say I simply shake my head and get on with my day.
I’m not saying that there wouldn’t be some crime drop-off, of course there would be, you could legalize murder or theft and magically see a crime drop as well. It’s a matter of a former crime not being on the books anymore, not that anyone stopped using it. People would still find some other way with which to be placed in jail. Bottom line: While the drug war is both pathetic and sad and very much reminiscent of the prohibition era in the US, legalization won’t change anything except being able to legally buy marijuana. And after the bullshit cigarette companies have added to their product I’m certain they would just do the same with marijuana–you’d have been better off keeping it illegal at that point.
Excessive Guilt And War Bonds
As I’m drinking my coffee and listening to the Eels I’m struck with the thought: It wouldn’t be very hard to get me to do what you want or at least get me to want to do what you want if only I had the means. You see, I suffer from excessive guilt; not just feeling it for saying no, but also guilt for saying yes. Or for for doing what I want. Or for doing what someone else wants. Or for not doing enough. Or…whatever. Hey, if it involves making a choice I will invariably feel guilty for doing it or for not doing it.
The really sad part is that I’m not sure how I got to this point because there was a time where I wouldn’t feel guilty for doing things that would benefit me or for doing things that helped friends out. I guess the good part in this whole equation is that I can pinpoint where it stems from: my need to help and that I don’t like letting anyone down–even when it would be to my own detriment.
There are some problems in thinking this way, naturally and chief among them is that you can’t please everybody at all times. Intellectually I know that, but mentally I still feel the crack of the guilt whip. I honestly don’t know how to break out of this loop, though, which is the real shame because I have the feeling that if I continue to feel this way that I will eventually get myself into something I don’t really want to do, but can’t back out.
What Is Love
I don’t think I’ve ever been in love. Or I thought I was, but I’m wondering how much of that was desperation/horniness and how much was genuinely love. I guess on some level I’ve felt it before. But I’m wondering why I haven’t felt that way lately or even in the last few years. Especially when someone fancied me and all I could say is, “I really like you, but that whole clinging to you was an act of desperation on my part.” Yeah…doesn’t sound very dignified in that way.
I do think I’ve had little inklings of love, though. Especially in high school with this one girl I was crazy for for years, but it was never reciprocated or even acknowledged. Hell, it’s still not acknowledged and I’m a nominal friend these days. So it’s odd for me to go my whole life without experiencing that feeling. The feeling that consumes you that you’d do anything for that person and they’d do the same for you. I dunno. It also bugs the shit out of me because of that fact.
I think I’m on my way, though. I think. Or maybe I’m not. Still, it’ll turn out for the best.
What Is This?
I’m beginning to think that this is a mental disorder that I have. Maybe fear of commitment? Let’s run it down so it can seem very crazy. Okay, when I’m attracted to a female I’m really, really into her. But as I get to know her I begin to find things I do not like like her constant complaining about a job she only works part-time with. That kind of stuff. Or maybe how she spells a word. Yes, it’s a stupid thing to hate someone over but it goes more like this, “I thought she was smart. She can’t even spell a simple word properly. Man, she lied to me!” That kind of stuff.
It really bothers me because invariably it happens and I lose whatever attraction I had for the person and then either continue on and lie or get rid of them somehow. I dunno, is this making sense? Do mature people do this? I dunno. I think it has something to do with fear and self-loathing. Fear that someone might actually have feelings for you and self-loathing because…well…they’re obviously fucking nuts to want you. Amiright? Anyone else do this?
Hypochondria Blues
I’ll admit that I’m a self-described hypochondriac. Really, the idea that my body can and will turn on me eventually scares the crap out of me. Ditto to the randomness of disease. So it cripples me to the point I will not go out on some days and will go out on others. It’s a very weird way to think. I’m baffled by it as well. I’ve had hundreds of ailments–or at least that’s what I’ve told myself.
And I always come up with a time when I’ll feel better and start living again, “Oh, next time.” Or, “When it gets warmer I’ll feel better.” Or…anything. The thing about hypochondria, I’ve discovered, is that one thing will trip me up. If I feel a pain in my arm that wasn’t there in the morning it’s a heart attack. Or if my eyes hurt it’s a stroke because eye strain is giving me a headache. Or, like my recent worry: lupus. Yes, lupus. Why? Well, my cheeks kind of like a malar rash therefore it’s lupus. Insane? Maybe. But that’s how it goes. One thing you find odd or off in your body and you’re dying–or convinced of it. At least that’s how it is with me.
I’m not sure how other people are with this. I don’t even know how to overcome it. I’ve been trying to focus less on what I’m feeling, but in a moment of boredom or sitting somewhere silently, the thoughts come creeping back in. I suppose you could say that I need more to focus my mind on, but I don’t think someone who’s never experienced this kind of fear will understand–it’s really not that easy. My hypochondria paralyzes me into inaction. No amount of refocusing will fix that when I’m in this sort of state.
Compared to two years ago I’m a lot better, but whatever happened to me the old ‘me’ is not coming back any time soon. I don’t feel great about myself and it really drags me down into the muck time after time. So! Anyone currently going through this or something similar? Did you claw your way out of it? If so I could use all of the advice I can get. If anyone bothers to read this thing.
A Pox On Your Twitter Account!
I used to be very anti-Twitter and with good reason: it seemed like the stupidest idea ever. Well, besides toast fucking. Anyway, the idea is essentially writing down your thoughts in a 140 character nicely condensed fashion. Aaaand…I don’t work that way. Well, I do, but I don’t. My thoughts are usually books that take up vast areas of my mind and have fuck all to do with much of anything. Granted most of my thoughts fade as soon as I’m done thinking about them. That’s why I don’t do much updating here and when I do it’s in bursts.
So, why am I suddenly not hating on Twitter anymore? Mainly because I’ve vowed to give up being a snob. And I can see that it does have some value. After all, someone says something to you and you want to be nice, but what you’re really thinking is below the surface. You need a place to release that or you’ll beat your wife or kick a dog or something and that shit’s just money and time out of your pocket. It also takes a bit of creativity to post there as well. You can’t very well say, “Off to a bell tower to shoot up some people because my mother told me that my penis is the devil’s work and my girlfriend laughed at my efforts to woo her and my father beat the shit out of me.” That’s why you post, “Off 2 tower 2 shoot ppl, life 2 hard. Kthnxbai.” See? Wasn’t that much easier? Of course it was.
And the whole snobby thing…’ehh…I hate snobs and snobby behavior while at the same time exhibiting some of it myself. Yesterday I was texting a friend and made a reference they didn’t get and I just felt like facepalming. Really. It was that bad. I don’t do that normally, but this time it sort of rubbed me the wrong way in a, “How can you not get this? You are a geek. You should know this,” sort of way. Again, I don’t normally get that way, but this had been happening a lot with this one person. So I’m trying to get rid of it. Poof. Out with the wind.
I guess you could sort of see this as ‘selling-out’ on a principle, but I’ve ceased to be 15 and seeing any deviation in former opinion as a sell-out. If I ever become a Republican scumbag then I’m selling-out. “But it was so fun becoming rich and selling out my fellow man and so inexpensive, too!”
Always Connected
When I first started getting online waaay back in 96/97 I kept staying on the computer because it was fun, interesting, and allowed me to chat with people in far off places like…Canada (I kid). Now that I’m older and I’ve gotten into a groove that fits and it’s become a routine I’ve found I’m liking being online less and less. Having a Blackberry and iPhone have really opened my eyes to this sort of…intrusiveness. This ability for anyone to message me, contact me, or get at me from anywhere I go. Sure, it’s fun. But I dunno, this novelty is sort of wearing thin on me.
Let’s be clear: I cherish my friends, even the ones I’ve met online. Really. I do. I just feel like I don’t get a lot of ‘me’ time, even being at home all the fucking time I’m still not alone. Also, I don’t hate not being alone, being alone sucks. It truly does, but so does being messaged every day. Again, I don’t mind it usually, but now I notice myself cringing a little bit now.
I’d quit all this–facebook, AIM, message boards, etc. Except it’s become a habit, a routine, a substitute for any sort of social life since I’ve isolated myself really well from the outside world. I’m in the process of changing that, of course, but at the moment if I cut all of these strings I’d lose a good chunk of my ‘life’. Sad, yes, but that’s what anxiety disorders tend to do.
So you see, it’s a conundrum. I hate it, but I also find it necessary. That and my friend Beth has promised to kill me if I delete my facebook. While I do appreciate being able to keep up with my friends and with everything I’m kind of annoyed with the whole thing at the moment. It’s not very healthy and it sure isn’t helping me to become a better person.
I find myself becoming more annoyed and angry every day and that’s just not good. Not good for me, not good for the people that annoy me, and not good for my outlook. So, being online has become a ‘job’. A job that I dread and wish to escape from every day, but then get sucked back into and don’t know how to escape.
I’m A Bad Wed Logger
Oh, I am. I’m rubbish. I can’t keep consistently posting for the life of me. I could do it for maybe a week or so, but longer than that and I get fatigued. I think it’s the idea that I have to constantly have a streaming line of thoughts for entries and honestly…as much as I think…half the shit would be gibberish or in-jokes only known between me and my friends. Which isn’t fair to you, my adoring non-readers, who I love so much.
So…what’s going on in my life? Oh…I might be getting an iPhone because I’m a sucker. Also, my brother’s back with his girlfriend (maybe) for the 4 billionth time which irritates me to no end. Mainly because of all of the drama associated with him and the psycho. Then he gets all mopey about it. And I get to hear about it and how bad she is for him. Then a week later I get to repeat the process all over when any sane man might’ve killed them both by now. Fortunately I am insane and put up with shit like this.
Hmm…oh, winter sucks. But you already knew that, right? Unless you’re a ‘ski bum’. A term which I’ve always hated, because skiing seems like the thing you would do if you’re rich. Mainly because you could actually afford the goofy-ass equipment that it took to become a ‘ski bum’. So really you’re just an asshole with deep pockets. Oh, sure, you could rent some, maybe, but it’d never be good enough.
I also have a stiff neck from probably looking at the computer more than is humanly acceptable. Unless you’re Korean and an MMO freak. Those guys have me beat on ‘doing as little as possible physically’. Anyway, I want spring to get here. PA winters are some shit. Granted it’s nothing like New Yawk or Connect-i-cut, or Vermont (yeah, no strange accents or names from them). But it still sucks the peen of a mighty monkey. And while I’ll never claim I have SAD–I do have SAD-ish bits with anxiety and cabin fever and such. Soo…on with the warmer weather. My balls could use the relief. Anyway…that’s it for this entry. I hope you’ve enjoyed not reading it as much as I have typing it.
