Certainties

It’s 105 F out, I’m sleep deprived, and I’m late on a blog post. How’re y’all doing?

You know, my mind is buzzin’ with ideas when I’m not in front of the computer. Soon as I sit, I’m as blank as a failed metaphor.

So two things that have been rolling around my mind the past few days. One, I woke up in the middle of the night and for some reason my addled mind strayed from the normal inadequacies and self restraints to none. No failings, need-to-do’s, remorse, or the like. For a brief, half awake moment, I stood in awe of who I was. All that I was able to accomplish. I tallied all the skills I had learned over the years. And further, the greater lessons from those skills. Then I extracted the larger life achievements I’ve earned or persevered through. How I was doing so well and shouldn’t feel that shame I impose on myself. I was good enough and I should accept myself as such.

And like that, poof, the catharsis disappeared. Some sadness, some hope, some longing, and some confusion; I dunno, the experience shook me.

Next up, certainties. I don’t think people realize the rules they impose on themselves. I also doubt they understand how those rules act as anchors for our identities. You know we make those rules as we go along in life soon as we can think for ourselves. Maybe even before then. Rules like, I want to be a good boy/girl. I want to be rich, I want to be loved, I don’t want to hurt anyone. And for each of those, you effectively declare that, as a person, your identity is such that you prefer this one option over its opposite. Further, with or without knowledge of it happening, you build your entire life on top of this one personal truth.

I’ve got a few personal truths I stare at and wonder, “Do I leave well enough alone, or do I challenge that at the risk of unraveling my person?”

I am really really good at being autonomous and self reliant. My whole life is based around it. Still, there is a part of me that wonders about looking for love. I’ve had my moments and my romances, each with a wonderful high. They are how I subsist. Yet, there a part of me (the bored part, I’m sure) that would like to forge something deeper with a nice gal.

That said, I am nigh positive it is my ADHD mind just wanting another adventure. Romanticizing the benefits without acknowledging the costs. I know plenty of people my age who regret the marriage, marriages, or the time they committed to the investment.

Anywho, gotta run and go do homework. Forgive my abruptness.

Finger Drumming

I have no idea what that title is in reference to. One can fear context. I fear context.

The tech guys are here. Internet is but a new cable install away. While I wait, I’m multitasking by being on the phone with banking customer service. Nothing huge. Just another chore in dealing with corporations. Goddamned bills, goddamned bill-pay. Meh, might as well write here while waiting for instances to resolve themselves. That way I can honestly say I’m spending my time efficiently.

First week of college started this week on Monday. If my experience with college is correct, the first week is deceptively easy. As the semester drags, so too does patience with the process. Pretty sure all parties feel that pain and deal with it in whichever way they see best. Me and my adjusting to academia, well, I’ll write about my sins in a paragraph or so while I frame up my history with school. Grab a beverage, this’ll take a moment while grandpa Steve spins a yarn.

Once upon a time, in the mid nineties, was my first foray into higher education. My K-12 experience was spotty in quality. Lots of moving and relocating. Relations with peers, teachers, and institutions were all about a year’s time before the family would move then move again. We’d relocate, fresh start, learn a new routine, and wait for old problems to reappear before prompting a reset of the process. None too stable. But I’m here to write about it, so stable enough, I suppose.

Anywho, I posit the experiences left me with a less than optimal respect for peers, teachers, and institutions. After all, how much effort should be invested if they were to be gone in a year or so? So, me being me, I measured doses of effort accordingly from my K-12 experience. Given the history, my newfound adulthood, and my yet to be fully developed brain, my first stint with academia did not go so well.

I thought I knew what I wanted to do with myself. I was gonna become an art icon. Once I became a rock star artist, all my problems would disappear. Armed with an inflated sense of self, little world experience, and reckless youth, I set about my task . . . But, wait, what’s this reckless youth? Why does it feel so good? What are these feelings?

Yeah, I got distracted. There was the usual drugs, sex, and rock-and-roll. Exploring these new sensations was a thrill, to be sure, but eclipsed responsibilities. I paid school lip service and weighted its importance low on my list of priorities. Grades and efforts dwindled. And soon thereafter, student loans. And soon after that, freedom.

To be continued . . .

Still Down

Yeah, internet’s still out. And look at this, I’m doing just fine. Who’d have thunk it?

I’ll make a call here in a few days. I don’t look forward to the tedium of tech support, who does, but I guess I will. Admittedly, I do debate if I should just shut it off altogether. I’ll mull the should I/shouldn’t I and take my sweet time in doing so. And, in the between time, I will explore options outside the house. I get that having to go to a coffee shop or a library for internet is less convenient, on the other hand, gets me out of the house and away from isolating. Might be a good inconvenience. A necessary one. A little more time, I’ll decide. No rush.

Though I’m wary of admitting so, let alone typing as much here, but I’m feeling better. Do double dip depressions happen? ‘Fraid so. Hence the cautious tone. For the now, I’m relieved to be in an even state of mind. I can recognize positive things once more. Even appreciate them. Sorely welcome.

A weird after effect of climbing out from a funk is a sudden and strange desire to take on all the projects. Fuck, why not a few extra for good measure? I’ll tell you why not, because there’s only so much a person can do. I cannot be all things and master all skill sets. Believe me, I’ve tried. And the relics of each failed attempt haunt me to this day. So, as with the sadness, we practice an even hand on the happiness. Sow us some stability.

School starts tomorrow. This will officially be the start of my final career change in life. More on the particulars later. For now, it’s a little scary, a little exciting, and, dare I say, freeing? Next post, I promise to write some on direction and trajectory. Right now, overthinking feels like a hazard. Piecemeal feels like the best strat to bring me peace… me… ale?. . . I suppose I’ll work on the craftsmanship of that thought, too. You know, as long as I’m putting things off.

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