Friday, September 26, 2014

Why It Scares Me

"I blog because I have a lot to say for someone who lives under a rock. With dirt, and shit."

As somewhat of a disclaimer, This blog is probably going to bum everyone out. So if you don't wanna read that garbage, please don't. This is a blog that is meant to keep my brain in my head.

I honestly haven't been able to sleep in probably 2 weeks. I just lay here and watch the shadows move across my ceiling. And slowly lose clothing to my bed because tossing and turning is hard work. It gets hot. So as a feeble attempt to get some sleep, I am writing this down to get it out of my skull, down on paper, and maybe help someone who may be feeling the same.

I see a lot of the same people on an every day basis at my work. And one of the guys is quite the smart ass. But, I think on a very basic level, he is one of the nicest people I know. Anyway, The other day he walks up to me and says "You know Jake, you seem really unhappy. What's going on? Why aren't you happy?" I suppose that on the draw, I probably said; because I am at work. But the truth of the matter was; I have no idea anymore. People ask; well what makes you happy? I don't know. Getting the rare full nights sleep. Eating the rare good meal. Having time to listen to the music I want.
I guess that a lot of people probably get caught in this trap. Maybe they tied their happiness to a significant other, maybe it was to a friend or a group of friends, and eventually those things dissipate. So they end up drifting with crowds, dabbling in drugs, sex, maybe alcohol, could be anything in order to find a quick fix on happiness. Because isn't that what we all want? To wake up and be happy to be awake. I sure would. That would be nice to be happy to be awake.
Perhaps the other thing that could be altering with my (and maybe others) happiness would be how they cope with things. Tragedy, loss, death, whatever. If you asked me how I cope with things? Shit. I don't even know. I used to drink. A lot. That always ended up worse than before. I guess I have tried confiding in others a time or two. But being a burden on someone else is never a thing I felt comfortable with. I guess now I just put my big headphones on, listen to sad music, and stow myself away in some dark and dismal place. Both physically and mentally speaking. My  philosophy on it is; I'll keep all my emotions right here *motions to chest* and one day; I'll die.
Upon thinking about it, I guess I'm unhappy because I don't try anymore. I used to be very involved in music. But people have the tendency to ruin music for me. Whether intentionally or not, other "fans" can smear a good image. I used to like longboarding, but a few nasty spills keep me at an arms length. I don't know. I work so much that any spare time I have I invest into TV series. 
Truthfully, I'm okay with that. I don't need to be out spinning the tires 100 MPH anymore to feel accomplished. Not anymore. Maybe I'm just getting older. Maybe that's okay.
If I'm being totally honest, there is one thing that has bothered me for so long, and I have sorted of stored it under my bed. This may seem like an anti-whatever and it is anything but that. I am just going to put this out there, because 1. I feel like it. 2. This is my blog and I can do whatever the shit I want.
I guess this beef can seem somewhat dated, and it is. And it's stupid of me to still think about it. But it has bothered me, and I know it's concerned others. But I'll just tell it as it went. I remember on my last day as an LDS missionary they had us have an interview with the mission president before departing to go back home after two long years of service. And I remember sitting in that room with someone who I horribly disrespected. And he didn't say much about me being successful, and that's fine. But the only thing he really said was "Your next goal in life is to get married. you NEED to get married." And that kind of burned into my brain. So, I went home. And after the water stilled I was pretty determined that I was going to go on dates and work towards getting married. Because that was my next goal; apparently. So I tried. And I learned pretty quickly how much I fucking hate women. I realize that I am not prince charming. And I have always gone for the "Ruggedly handsome" look, without realizing that you need to be handsome in order to pull that look off. And my dad doesn't have some huge estate or yatch for me to inherit. But I have come to realize that what I do have is something that money can't buy. And that's my willingness to put everything I have on the line, be constantly reliable, be fiercely loyal without question, and to have absolutely golden intentions. But for whatever reason, no matter how hard I tried, I always managed to find myself walking home alone. And kicking my own ass along the way. I could never pin point what I was missing. So I always chalked it up to the fact that I was overweight. And probably less than good looking. But as I became obsessed with the fact that it was my "Goal" to find a significant other, and I was failing pretty miserably at it. So it took me on this downward spiral pretty quickly. I guess the biggest part of that is that I felt like I was letting God down, I was letting myself down, and I was letting those I loved down. Because I couldn't achieve this one goal. Shit, I couldn't even land a damned date, for crying out loud. So down and down we went. And here we are, almost three years later. Dateless, mostly faithless, and pretty hopeless. I guess it would be more than asinine to point fingers at my mission president, and more importantly the church for my unhappiness. Nobody forced me into stupid avenues. Nobody came up and said "Jake. You're a failure." I only did that to myself. But I think that you are getting the gist of what I am getting at.
Perhaps if my goal when I got home was to figure out what I want to do with my life, and chase that, things would have been different. But here I am with little ambition to change what's become of my life. I guess I sort of obsessed over that "goal" And after constantly letting myself down, it left me with little hope that I can achieve any goals at all. So I followed it down. And I'm still sitting here.
The truth of the matter is, I'm pretty okay with who I am. I'm fine with all my habits, good and bad. I'm fine with the fact that I am figuring me out. I guess it's everyone else worrying that has got me worried. I know that I don't want to be this way forever. And one day, things will work out. And I will wake up pretty happy. So don't send out any sirens in my name. And don't think this was a cry for someone else to do the leg work on my love life. Because it's not that either. I guess I just felt like you deserved an honest answer as to why I have been burying myself for so long. And why I don't (Or never did) have pep in my step. (I think) I'm okay. I may be clinically depressed, but I'm more convinced that I was just born pissed off.
I have never told anybody any of this stuff. But I felt like it should be put out there. For whatever reason.
I guess I wanted to put it in that way for anyone else who may be feeling down on themselves. In their love life, in their faith, in whatever. Trust me, you are not alone. And it's cool to question those parts of yourself. I do it all the time. One day, whenever that is, shit will work out in your favor. Don't be afraid to take the time you need to get yourself in order. I've been doing it for years now. And I still feel like I am at square one.

"I leave the memory up atop the balcony.
I tear this flower from the back of the dress.
It’s best this time, I bet, to just forget and let go.
Paint it the shade of where the lip bleeds and blur it out.
I blur out everything else, just blur out everything else.
And let go, and let go, and let go."

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