Of trials and desperation
This will probably be long
Tonight, I sat there, thinking, and contemplating where my life is going, and it certainly appears to me that it's going nowhere. I often feel like a corporate shill, since I have brand name electronics, and I'm a middle class American who often spends more than he can currently afford (but there's always that next paycheck, right?) I'm all kinds of buzzed right now, as I just had a medium coffee from Krispy Kreme, and apparently my stomach was empty because I just stirred a protein shake so hard I flung a bunch of milk up my arm (and I also just typed bunch as "punch" the first time.)
So who am I? I'm me, but I often don't know who that is, other than a name, and occasionally a face. I know I'm not alone, and this isn't that kind of rant. However, I have yet to "find" myself, however much I don't believe in that concept. I do believe that you need to find what you need, but not who you are. Even though I don't necessarily believe that you should let things define you, they often do. I'm also referring to the arbitrary concept of thing, versus a possession. Lets assume that a "thing" is a personality trait, a concept, an idea, or even a (hopefully not too many)possession. These all define the person that you are, and if you can't find something that Matt is, or Steve is, or Bill or Amy or whoever the hell you think you are, how do you know you're that person? Maybe your name is Andrew, but you're really John, and I'd wager to say there are many more Johns than there are Andrews. Like my not so clever metaphor?
Regardless, I need that thing that defines me, and I made the Mission to Texas (official name) the Thing that Shall Define (Also official, patent pending), which is most definitely a mistake. It's not where I am, but who I am that makes up who I am. I'm looking for the great inspiration, my eureka moment wherein I decide that this is what I shall do, and how I will shape a part of the world in my own image. I've realized that I won't find that here, or anywhere else. The only place I can find it is in my head, and I need to place my head down the path that where I can wind my way there if I just learn to use the compass and map correctly. This is not to say that Texas was a mistake in and of itself, because I'm definitely much happier here than I am at home, and it's teaching me to appreciate what I have a lot more than I ever did before. However, one of my reasons for coming was entirely wrong.
I feel like I'm on sensory overload all the time, and I often come home from work to just sit here in the dark. I can't sleep, I have a hard time having restful dreams, and I certainly feel exhausted a lot. I don't expect these things, especially after leaving Ensco and the hellish work hours behind. However, these problems have followed me more closely than ever, and it's getting a little cramped in my head. My neurosis are worse than ever as well. My co-worker Boyd has a blood clot in his leg, and now I can feel my leg pulse all the time in the spot that he has the clot. What makes that even more unreal is I knew where it would hurt before he even TOLD me where it hurts. I'd like to think of that as a super power of some kind, but I certainly don't want it once I name it and my adoptive mother makes my costume from the blanket in my space capsule.
I have moments of clarity where I suddenly become acutely aware of sounds and smells, and realized I've stopped listening and smelling years ago. I'm not even sure why, but it's very disturbing to me. I don't like the idea that two of the things that I find very enticing about both Montrose and camping (one of my favorite activities EVER) are things that I no longer do. I'd like to think I'm lost in thought, but I just zombie around more than ever. I think I'm gaining ground, but it crushes me that I'm not getting there faster. I'm stuffed in a box, and the box isn't getting any bigger, any faster. Hopefully it's a cardboard box, and it will rain soon and the sides will collapse outward, but I think moving to the desert may have put a hamper on that. It's hard to transplant yourself into unknown territory and pick up your life just as if you cut the whole thing out and put it in your bag for later. It's just not possible. Everything is a start over. You know the rules, and you've played the game before, but you've joined another team, and you're still bench warming.
My caffeine addiction has become more apparent than ever. I've realized that my best thinking is done "under the influence," and that getting into the zone has become more and more infrequent. I finally realized the correlation is not only from burn out from the last two years of my life which have generally been rather shitty and a waste, but also because I cut off soda (and therefore my main caffeine source of the day.) At the same time, I've picked up coffee, which of course has MORE caffeine, and I find myself craving it continually. I'm afraid that if I get it too much, I'll become entirely dependent again, and instead of getting fat, I'll harden my arteries with the excess and have myself a merry little aneurysm (sorry, I'm playing Christmas music whilst typing this oh so cheery self revelation.)
So where does this all leave me? Quite progressed, actually. I feel better, and I think I'm accomplishing small bits, day by day, but I need to change a lot more than I already have to get anywhere. Everything I do is lived under a rule, or some sort of guise. This doesn't mean the rules are entirely bad. Some are, some aren't. I'm going to continue to work out and diet, because I like looking in the mirror and seeing the six pack (technically I have roughly 4 of the 6, still a work in progress) and I like not feeling bloated and shitty after every meal. I also like being able to run 3 miles at a 2% incline (i know, big deal, but it's at least uphill) without stopping, and still having plenty of energy if I wasn't bored. But it also means I need to not care quite so much, which I still do, and I need to stop setting gauges for my success. I know that sounds assinine, but I need to have an open ended playing field where any progress is a success, but wherein I want ever more while at the same time being happy with a stopping point. My life has always consisted of being better than the people around me, and as the years go by, those challenges are diminishing, whch subsequently is making ME less competitive. I'm slowly sinking lower and lower in terms of being on top of my game. I realize this is somewhat inevitable, but I need to be more competitive, and I know I'm more capable than most in my field, and beyond that, in many other things. I've been given a lot of talent, regardless of what being, plant, rock or scientific reaction created us, and I don't feel like I'm using it to the potential that I could. I remember back in grade school I was very competitive with the kid who ended up being our valedictorian, and that's because I set the bar at his level, and I made it. Later in school, I made friends with a bunch of people, half of which either didn't make it through college, or didn't even go, I made myself just do better than them. I also don't care how arrogant this sounds because it's my journal. But I've never set it at MY level. I merely set a bunch of goals that I think I should achieve, and never achieve them, largely thanks to the school system that only teaches us to be competitive with others but never satisfied with ourselves. So I'm setting the bar at this and laying down the challenge for myself: I will do something, and it will benefit people, or at least give them some pleasure in their lives. The quote from Walden that Robert has been posting lately has never had so much weight with me "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation" (forgive me if I misquoted at all.) I feel like I'm living that, I'm not going to anymore, plain and simple. If it takes another couple years to get going down the "right" path, so be it, but I won't sit around anymore.
Somewhere inside of me, a very ambitious person is trapped in a room, creating his master works, and they're piling up. He's completely satisfied with what he's done, but some day he'd like other people to see them, just to find out if they like them as much as he does. Unfortunately, I have yet to find the door, so I haven't seem them either, but I hear good things.
Emily tells me I need to live in the moment more, and I agree. I also need to not feel guilty for the things I do (or don't do), to not avoid things I love because they make the time go more quickly, and the quicker time goes, the sooner I'm back at work. Even though I do like my job, I'd rather not be at it, like most, but I take that aversion to extreme levels.
Alright, that's enough. I've already had enough run on sentences, as well as completely non-sensical paragraphs of bullshit. Plus my caffeine is wearing off, and I'm starting to run down (It is 3am after all.)
Tonight, I sat there, thinking, and contemplating where my life is going, and it certainly appears to me that it's going nowhere. I often feel like a corporate shill, since I have brand name electronics, and I'm a middle class American who often spends more than he can currently afford (but there's always that next paycheck, right?) I'm all kinds of buzzed right now, as I just had a medium coffee from Krispy Kreme, and apparently my stomach was empty because I just stirred a protein shake so hard I flung a bunch of milk up my arm (and I also just typed bunch as "punch" the first time.)
So who am I? I'm me, but I often don't know who that is, other than a name, and occasionally a face. I know I'm not alone, and this isn't that kind of rant. However, I have yet to "find" myself, however much I don't believe in that concept. I do believe that you need to find what you need, but not who you are. Even though I don't necessarily believe that you should let things define you, they often do. I'm also referring to the arbitrary concept of thing, versus a possession. Lets assume that a "thing" is a personality trait, a concept, an idea, or even a (hopefully not too many)possession. These all define the person that you are, and if you can't find something that Matt is, or Steve is, or Bill or Amy or whoever the hell you think you are, how do you know you're that person? Maybe your name is Andrew, but you're really John, and I'd wager to say there are many more Johns than there are Andrews. Like my not so clever metaphor?
Regardless, I need that thing that defines me, and I made the Mission to Texas (official name) the Thing that Shall Define (Also official, patent pending), which is most definitely a mistake. It's not where I am, but who I am that makes up who I am. I'm looking for the great inspiration, my eureka moment wherein I decide that this is what I shall do, and how I will shape a part of the world in my own image. I've realized that I won't find that here, or anywhere else. The only place I can find it is in my head, and I need to place my head down the path that where I can wind my way there if I just learn to use the compass and map correctly. This is not to say that Texas was a mistake in and of itself, because I'm definitely much happier here than I am at home, and it's teaching me to appreciate what I have a lot more than I ever did before. However, one of my reasons for coming was entirely wrong.
I feel like I'm on sensory overload all the time, and I often come home from work to just sit here in the dark. I can't sleep, I have a hard time having restful dreams, and I certainly feel exhausted a lot. I don't expect these things, especially after leaving Ensco and the hellish work hours behind. However, these problems have followed me more closely than ever, and it's getting a little cramped in my head. My neurosis are worse than ever as well. My co-worker Boyd has a blood clot in his leg, and now I can feel my leg pulse all the time in the spot that he has the clot. What makes that even more unreal is I knew where it would hurt before he even TOLD me where it hurts. I'd like to think of that as a super power of some kind, but I certainly don't want it once I name it and my adoptive mother makes my costume from the blanket in my space capsule.
I have moments of clarity where I suddenly become acutely aware of sounds and smells, and realized I've stopped listening and smelling years ago. I'm not even sure why, but it's very disturbing to me. I don't like the idea that two of the things that I find very enticing about both Montrose and camping (one of my favorite activities EVER) are things that I no longer do. I'd like to think I'm lost in thought, but I just zombie around more than ever. I think I'm gaining ground, but it crushes me that I'm not getting there faster. I'm stuffed in a box, and the box isn't getting any bigger, any faster. Hopefully it's a cardboard box, and it will rain soon and the sides will collapse outward, but I think moving to the desert may have put a hamper on that. It's hard to transplant yourself into unknown territory and pick up your life just as if you cut the whole thing out and put it in your bag for later. It's just not possible. Everything is a start over. You know the rules, and you've played the game before, but you've joined another team, and you're still bench warming.
My caffeine addiction has become more apparent than ever. I've realized that my best thinking is done "under the influence," and that getting into the zone has become more and more infrequent. I finally realized the correlation is not only from burn out from the last two years of my life which have generally been rather shitty and a waste, but also because I cut off soda (and therefore my main caffeine source of the day.) At the same time, I've picked up coffee, which of course has MORE caffeine, and I find myself craving it continually. I'm afraid that if I get it too much, I'll become entirely dependent again, and instead of getting fat, I'll harden my arteries with the excess and have myself a merry little aneurysm (sorry, I'm playing Christmas music whilst typing this oh so cheery self revelation.)
So where does this all leave me? Quite progressed, actually. I feel better, and I think I'm accomplishing small bits, day by day, but I need to change a lot more than I already have to get anywhere. Everything I do is lived under a rule, or some sort of guise. This doesn't mean the rules are entirely bad. Some are, some aren't. I'm going to continue to work out and diet, because I like looking in the mirror and seeing the six pack (technically I have roughly 4 of the 6, still a work in progress) and I like not feeling bloated and shitty after every meal. I also like being able to run 3 miles at a 2% incline (i know, big deal, but it's at least uphill) without stopping, and still having plenty of energy if I wasn't bored. But it also means I need to not care quite so much, which I still do, and I need to stop setting gauges for my success. I know that sounds assinine, but I need to have an open ended playing field where any progress is a success, but wherein I want ever more while at the same time being happy with a stopping point. My life has always consisted of being better than the people around me, and as the years go by, those challenges are diminishing, whch subsequently is making ME less competitive. I'm slowly sinking lower and lower in terms of being on top of my game. I realize this is somewhat inevitable, but I need to be more competitive, and I know I'm more capable than most in my field, and beyond that, in many other things. I've been given a lot of talent, regardless of what being, plant, rock or scientific reaction created us, and I don't feel like I'm using it to the potential that I could. I remember back in grade school I was very competitive with the kid who ended up being our valedictorian, and that's because I set the bar at his level, and I made it. Later in school, I made friends with a bunch of people, half of which either didn't make it through college, or didn't even go, I made myself just do better than them. I also don't care how arrogant this sounds because it's my journal. But I've never set it at MY level. I merely set a bunch of goals that I think I should achieve, and never achieve them, largely thanks to the school system that only teaches us to be competitive with others but never satisfied with ourselves. So I'm setting the bar at this and laying down the challenge for myself: I will do something, and it will benefit people, or at least give them some pleasure in their lives. The quote from Walden that Robert has been posting lately has never had so much weight with me "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation" (forgive me if I misquoted at all.) I feel like I'm living that, I'm not going to anymore, plain and simple. If it takes another couple years to get going down the "right" path, so be it, but I won't sit around anymore.
Somewhere inside of me, a very ambitious person is trapped in a room, creating his master works, and they're piling up. He's completely satisfied with what he's done, but some day he'd like other people to see them, just to find out if they like them as much as he does. Unfortunately, I have yet to find the door, so I haven't seem them either, but I hear good things.
Emily tells me I need to live in the moment more, and I agree. I also need to not feel guilty for the things I do (or don't do), to not avoid things I love because they make the time go more quickly, and the quicker time goes, the sooner I'm back at work. Even though I do like my job, I'd rather not be at it, like most, but I take that aversion to extreme levels.
Alright, that's enough. I've already had enough run on sentences, as well as completely non-sensical paragraphs of bullshit. Plus my caffeine is wearing off, and I'm starting to run down (It is 3am after all.)