"People are just people, they shouldn't make you nervous."

An account manager told me today that he has gotten the impression from people that I am outgoing and personable. I guess I have successfully fooled everyone.

I used to write a lot. I wanted to be an author. A journalist. I wanted to be an artist. I wanted to create. I had a lot of ideas. A lot of thoughts. Constant internal dialogue. I used to write my darkest thoughts in the unsecured pages of a leather bound notebook which I kept upon a shelf in my bedroom. I'd leave those thoughts there and rarely, if ever, revisit them. If I read them now, would I remark on how far I've come in my personal growth or cringe knowing that in my thoughts today, the subjects might have been replaced but the themes remain the same. Darkness, loneliness, anxiety, depression, intense fear ...of basically everything.

I am not the first person to experience these emotions. I won't be the last. But when you are submersed in the throes of anguish and fear, a perpetual litany of your worst imaginings constantly barraging your waking minutes, it becomes hard to recognize the crazy. The irrational becomes rational and you begin to believe the demons whispering in your ear that you are worthless and unworthy of good things.

The truth is. I have things to offer. I have wit, intellect, talent and ambition. And the only thing that has ever held me back in life is not my lack of aptitude or opportunity but the darkness. The fear of failure. Rejection. Humiliation.

I gave up on people a long time ago. Too much effort. Time and energy. Too much sacrifice to spend on something that oftentimes can be disappointing. Drawing a picture is rarely disappointing. Playing my guitar – also not disappointing. Being on average unheard or at worst negatively judged by another human being – definitely not high on my list of enticing options when choosing where to spend my limited amount of me time.
Fake it til you make it. I'm faking it. Hard. Today, I found out I have an interview at a big corporate client for some enterprise social media position. It could be a colossal failure. It could be a thundering success. But I will not know until I try. Do or do not.

I'm learning to embrace change and frame things positively. Because the opposite only leads to suffering. And I want no more of that nonsense. The life of a pessimist.

I just got an invite to my 10 year high school reunion. There is a tiny voice inside me that doesn't speak as loud as it did ten years ago, but that in periods of darkness finds a megaphone. Anxiety followed me everywhere and I never even knew his name until much later in life. A shadow looming. A force of discomfort that I wasn't able to truly comprehend when I was an awkward chubby teenager forced to assimilate into a culture and group of people with whom I was scantly familiar.

For the longest time, I thought there was something wrong with me in my teenage years. Why was everyone else so able to hold conversations about celebrities, manicures, abercrombie and making out. Why were people so able to speak up in front of a classroom full of people. So able to share ideas with their peers and teachers. Able to get part time jobs. Volunteer. Date. Be happy.

Why was the only thing in which I felt equipped to participate was to go home, eat ice cream and watch Star Gate with my equally socially-avoidant father?

Two reasons: 1) because Star Gate is awesome. And 2)because I was a neurotic anxious individual and I had been since birth … and maybe the past tense shouldn't quite apply just yet. But it applies less and less each day.

As time goes on I am reminded how intellectually capable I am. How adaptable I am. How successful I can be. I was voted most likely to succeed in high school but I never actually believed I would. Arguably I have succeeded and will continue to do so – depending on how one defines success.

Sometimes I want to cover my head with a blanket and forget that the world outside exists. Sometimes I want to cry alone in a corner and pretend that I'm not too old to be doing so. Sometimes I need to shut myself off for a day in order to feel like I can turn myself on again and be happy. And sometimes I think that's okay.
I want to be stronger. And I can be. The beautiful thing about human beings is that we are capable of some amazing things. 'A mind can be a great servant but a terrible master.' Don't let your negative thoughts control you. Don't let misery consume you.

There is always room for growth. Personal. Professional. Emotional. Its okay to feel overwhelmed sometimes. But its not okay to drown in your misery perpetually or let your fears prevent you from seizing the opportunities laid out before you.

Success is attainable.

I can. I will. I am.

The meaning of death.

I used to write a lot. Self-indulgent emotional turmoil. But it was me.

I used to be creative-ER. I used to have the free time to sit and contemplate the ills of society. The nuances of my brain. The nature of the universe. I used to draw, color, design. I used to be full of life, of creativity.

I have since lost the ability to even play my guitar without sore fingers. My callouses have faded along with the thoughtful, creative Becky. Because I just don't have the time for the things that used to make me ME.

I guess that means I have changed. Grown up. Become an adult.

Free time is limited and I use mine more for socializing with a dwindling pool of friends. Spending time with family and working on my career.

Career. Corporate life sucking necessity.

My creativity stagnates out of necessity too. Time is limited. It is also relative. But these days time relatively seems to pass a lot faster than it did when I was 5.

And certain things come to the surface of life as being more important than others. Family. Friends. Boys. Sex. Money. Health.

Time is defeated by all of these items.

Christmas is nice because it reminds you that you were once young and full of life. Potential. No worries. Easy. Life was good. If you were lucky.

Tradition. People don't like change. And the older you get the less you want of it. And the more you crave the old days. The days where you had less to worry about and you only remember the good times).

Five years from now I will look back on this day and think how much I miss being 25 and full of life. Today I look back five years and think how much I miss being 20 and full of life. Naive as hell. But damn I had flawless skin and an enormous amount of potential.

Is there an equal amount of pain in the world as there is pleasure? There is a lot of disease, suffering, corruption, war, poverty. Is there an equal amount of love, joy, celebration, tenderness, and caring.

Or is it human nature to ignore the suffering of others and take what you can get? Religion teaches you to look past your differences. But it also teaches you to bomb buildings. It's as much a dichotomy as the rest of the universe. Light dark. Ying yang. on off. Proton electron. Good evil.

Is there no such thing as good and evil. Is it as relative as time?

We are doomed to repeat our mistakes until we learn from them.

Will there be consciousness outside of this body? Will there be life after decomposition? Atman Nirvana Heaven Hell 6 feet under ... so many different answers to one simple question.

And you never know until you experience. Much like most things in life.

My 23 year old self is dead. But I exist after death. My five year old self is long dead. I exist. Who am I in relation to those people? Am I just someone who remembers them? Who has limited brain space that recalls certain moments of their lives from the internal perspective. Will there be someone like that after my body is gone from this earth?

What is a soul. Where is it located and how much does it weigh?

Are human beings just the biological cells of one bigger organism called Earth? In that case are we a bad virus that she cannot seem to kick and will inevitably lead to her downfall? Is Earth just a biological cell of a solar system, galaxies the universe.

Is a universe an individual among many other distinct universes... trying to relate to these other universes which are so different yet so similar in nature.

Do the laws of physics change from universe to universe. Do the laws of society change from culture to culture.

Are we really that different from the men we kill at war. We all value the same things family, love, happiness. And yet its acceptable to kill. To torture. To hate.

If football rivalries can cause riots... we haven't really come that far as a species. Simple games bring out our worst qualities of hatred and competition.

Competition is the nature of BEING. Evolution. Survival of the fittest. Competition for resources.

I really don't think human beings are any more enlightened than our neanderthal ancestors. We may have hit the industrial age. The technology age. The information age. We maybe be more knowledgeable about our world... but I don't think we know as much as we think we know. And I think we take for granted most of that which is considered common knowledge.

Technology drives us further apart as it brings us closer together. It is making the world a place of black and white with little grey. Politics screams republican or democrat. Religion tells us good or evil. Facebook tells us Like or block. We have become a people who share knowledge in as succinct a manner as possible. 140 characters or less. Which leaves little room for exposition. For thought. For GREY areas.

I think the universe is grey and we humans are more in the dark than we have ever been.

What is the meaning of life. no one seems to know much. And as we learn more we are only given more questions as to the nature of the universe.

Maybe the meaning of life is different to different people. Maybe it really is 42. Maybe there is no meaning and its a cosmic joke to think that we will search and search until our deaths upon which we stop existing.

Maybe its better to stop thinking and just accept the world as it is laid out and assumed to be. The society we live in. Let others dictate our worldview. Its easier. It leaves room for free time. I could play more guitar and learn to paint. But I wouldn't leave this world satisfied. I'm not sure I ever will. But I will keep on searching for answers. Because my meaning of life is about asking the questions and trying to understand.

Sandwiches and Dirty Laundry

Why are there no songs about just feeling pretty okay and content? Prozac takes all the art out of life. Sometimes it's worth it to be a nervous wreck just to feel the depth of emotion that inspires one to create. All I create these days are sandwiches and piles of laundry.

Although something can be said for both of those things. One might argue that there is art/beauty in the disorder of dirty laundry piles and messy rooms. Or that creating a great sandwich is a real art. Not sure what they would say about creating a mediocre PBJ.

Balance is the key to real happiness. Neuroses are the key to real art. Or it is at least one of them (Please note: I'm not attempting to inspire an elitist esoteric debate about how real art is defined.)

Art is emotion. Emotional roller coasters are distressing, but there is something beautiful in being at the peak of both happiness and depression. To ride the middle is like riding the boring train ride that circles the amusement park and comes right back to where you started.

I just want to draw a picture or write an incredible wordsmithing masterpiece that portrays exactly how I feel. But these days I only feel stable, rational, content, and unemotional. And there is no art in that.

Such Great Heights

Everything looks perfect from far away...

"People are just people, they shouldn't make you nervous."

My life has been one widespread epidemic of anxiety culminating in my inability to function as an adult human being. Fear is my only constant in life.

They tell you to immerse yourself in the triggers of your anxiety. To "feel the fear and do it anyway" and then you will eventually get over it.

I confront my fears every day and it doesn't get much easier. I must be doing something wrong.

My mother loves the show The Dog Whisperer. Cesar Milan works his magic by training dogs to eradicate self-destructive behaviors. Today he was training a German Shepard to no longer be afraid of people. He used a collar that vibrated during doggy attacks of panic and it eventually corrected the undesirable mental state.

Maybe what I need is a vibration collar. Or maybe just a Neurotic Young Lady Whisperer.

~o~o~o~o~

Introversion does not fit into American society.

I've all but convinced myself that I would be happier isolated in a remote location with zero human interaction. Or at least as happy as I am with.

I'm not sure whether it is not true.

~o~o~o~o~

Fear is the path to the dark side. Sounds like I would be a terrible jedi.

Brain games

Brain games

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The only thing that there's just too little of.

The possession of above-average intelligence is an arguably isolating condition.

If I were to ever procreate, I would want to pick an intelligent sperm. But then I would worry that my progeny would be doomed to a lifetime of awkwardness as smart people are generally the most neurotic.

We all have our strengths and weaknesses. Weakness: bad joints. Weakness: people phobia. Weakness: self-deprecation. Weakness: hypochondriasis. Weakness: chocoloate. Weakness: cynicism.

Or would cynicism be a strength?

I guess it depends on who you ask.

Definitions is where we the people get in trouble.

Our society is set up such that there is good and evil and nothing else. Guilty or not guilty. There is no such thing as 25% guilty. At least not in our justice system. There is no gray in the world. It is all labels. Society=labels.

You are male or female and thus have the corresponding gender role characteristics involved therein. You are Christian or not. Buddhist or not. Atheist or not. You like kids, or you don't. You support health care bills or you don't. You are hippie. You are gangster. You are indie scene.

And we are all pretentious.

And so sure of ourselves. Because in everyone's mind, they are in the right. Their opinions are the correct opinions, otherwise they would not subscribe to them. There is so rarely room for any other opinion but their own. Humans do not tolerate moral conflict well.

Wrapped up in our unique identities. And we are all correct. And we cannot respect any other opinion but our own.

~~~


Why do we get so bent out of shape when someone disrespects us, and then we turn around and do a similar thing out of the same fear and indecision that was experienced by the original wrongdoer.

Is it american society that makes us dishonest to the point where we NEED to spare another person's feelings? Or is that a universal human condition?

~~~~

All persons view the world differently. Unless they don't. Maybe the normal people view it normally. And the reason I have not found anyone with my worldview is because I am the sole seer of worlds. Ours is the only reality of consequence. What makes me believe that thoughts arise in other people's brains? How do I know these people exist...the only thing I know for certain is that I am in existence.

Can we delude ourselves into believing we are crazy.

What if there were more crazy people in this world than sane. And how would you know that there isn't?

~~~~

Why is Fuck a bad word? Because mommy and daddy told me it was the first time I used it at them? What makes it so bad? is it not just four letters strung together. it creates meaning. But meaning is used differently among different individuals.

Why is frak any better or worse?

If you call a gay man a bundle of sticks, would he get offended? What if the sentiment behind was dripping with hatred?

~~

How do you navigate a world with so many diverse peoples. So many variables. What ifs. Hows comes. Where for. In what respect.

Respect.

What the world needs now is respect. Sweet respect.

Just because there is love does mean not respect is.

The more love we have, the more attachment and thus inevitable suffering. Love leads to eventual heartbreak. Respect leads to a general well-being amongst the human race.

The song got it wrong. Respect-- its the only thing that there's just too little of.