It's 2 am and I don't want to go to sleep. I don't want to stay awake either. I'm just sorta stuck in limbo.
I'm lonely. Really. I feel so detached from everyone and everything around me lately. I see those people as just leaving. Like every time we hang out it's that phase of hanging out where it's late; everyone is tired and wants to go home; the conversation and festivities have died down and everyone wants to leave but no one really wants to be the person to spark the exodus that follows. It's the moment where you sit there half hunched over on the couch with your hands on your knees waiting for the moment to stand, stretch, and say it's getting late. Really. That's how I feel. Like everyone is just getting ready to embark on their lives and leave me sitting by myself in my car; hands resting on the cold steering wheel but not ready to drive away.
Really I just feel like I'm clinging. I try to be happy for those who are leaving, who have their dreams and lives to chase. Deep down though I just feel a jealous insensitive hurt. I can't do anything about it but I feel abandoned by the people who I care about most.
My sister says she's about to move out. My sister who's five years younger than me is ready to leave the nest and I'm doing everything I can to try and convince her to stay because I'm not ready to leave. I'm not ready for her to leave either. At that moment our childhood together will have ended as we know it. We'll both be adults and our relationship will never be the same. My family's relationship will never be the same. I dunno how to handle it. I'ms tuck between seeing my parents as parents and real people. They are getting older and I hate it. I'm stuck wanting to be 10 and have them take care of me. To have my dad be superman again instead of frail bodied.
We can't ever get that back. So I'm stuck watching everyone in my life getting ready to leave my party. I can't keep the conversation going any longer no matter how hard I try. They are all leaving and I have no one.
Obviously I still have them, they will always be friends and family, but it'll never be the same. They are married or they'll have careers, hell, they'll have kids. They'll live too far away to see as often as we have been able to thus far. even if they only live 15 miles away or 1000. They still feel the same.
Normal people would try to find a companion. Someone to love and spend their life with. That's the smart thing to do. Get attached to someone who wants to stay around for the long haul. I want that. I'm lonely. I'm 24 years old and I don't think I've ever had anything you could consider a real committed relationship. Pathetic.
I'd like to have one but I can barely handle myself. My anxiety, my stress, my self deprication. It's hard to even be committed to myself. I don't even have the confidence to go on vacation with my boys. Too much anxiety. I don't even know what I want to do with myself. My dreams have all been dashed. No more law school, dunno about teaching, wtf can I do. I don't live in a day and age where being a recluse pays bills.
I"m just detached. Lonely. Grasping at straws. Trying to keep everyone at a party that no one wants to be at anymore.
So what, find a girl? I can't even do that. The ones I like don't like me. So I should change my priorities right? I can't. I wish I could because it would be so much easier but I can't. No matter how many people tell you it's not settling, it's just growing up. It feels like settling. Yet, I can't help but feel like I'd be begging anyone I was with to settle for me. Little old anxiety ridden, pathetic, self pitying, no confidence, egotistical, opinionated, jackass me.
Shit. I don't even wanna be at this party anymore but I can't get away. So I sit here, stare at the clock on the wall and pray to God that the seconds slow down, keeping everyone here longer, so ultimately, I don't have to be alone with myself. I don't want to be alone with myself.
So please, stay..... just a little longer. I can't ask any of you to stay.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Anxiety & Hemlock, a parallel.
Hemlock. Most will know this plant for it's famous role in the life of the great Socrates. It is said that Socrates was put to death for crimes against the state and corrupting the youth in ancient Greece by hemlock. The opportunity was offered that he escape and live in exile but the ever noble Socrates chose to take his punishment. To make the story that much legendary, it is said that Socrates had to drink a lot more than normal in order for the poison to do its work. RIP Socrates.
What most don't know is that in small doses Hemlock was actually used for medicinal purposes. It actually could HELP your body. Which only fuels the old adage that too much of a good thing is bad. Really bad in this case.
I've noticed throughout my life that I have this tendency to focus on the former type knowledge about something. I view things as a negative, something to overcome, something to get through. I addressed my anxiety in such a way. It was something I had to fight. It was a negative. Something to overcome.
My recent struggles with the disorder have caused me to come out of it looking at it in a different light. It falls into the latter of the examples. Anxiety can actually be a positive in life. When kept under control and in moderation. This does not mean that I think those of us suffering through the disease should just embrace it and let it go nuts. Rather, that with the help of medication, meditation, therapy, and positive thinking, a little anxiety isn't such a bad thing.
As an explanation for this I can only state my own outlook on my life. Anxiety has been a bitch in my life. It's caused situations that shouldn't have been difficult to be a fight for survival. I've had to wake up some mornings only to feel that the next 24 hours were just me treading water, trying to keep my head above the waves. I was drowning. I hated it. It hated me. All i wanted to do was quit and let myself sink, but the thought of that scared me more than my desire to give in.
So I continued to tread. I continued to swim. I continued to fight. I got help. I got medicated. I started going to therapy. I started opening up about the things that were causing it. I've gotten to the point where I feel like I can deal with it. I'm no longer in the deep end of the pool, kicking, struggling, trying to survive. I'm in the shallow end. The water is at my waist. It's not gone but I'm able to deal. I thought that I was content with that.
Then I looked down at the water and noticed something. My metaphorical leg muscles were huge. All that kicking had made them sinewy and ripped. I was stronger than when I started. I could wade out into the pool and I could handle being in the deep in for extended periods of time without stress. Without tiring, without feeling like I was gonna drown.
That is how my battle with anxiety has changed. I feel now I can handle situations that I avoided. I feel stronger. that doesn't mean I want to jump into those stressful situations, but rather, I have a knowledge that I can handle them should they arise and I don't have to go out of my way to avoid them.
My perspective had changed. I had been drinking a little hemlock everyday and my immunity to it grew. I even benefited from it.
Anxiety is a terrible terrible thing and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I couldn't understand why God had put me in such a situation. To make me suffer through it. To make anyone suffer through it. But now, now I think I know what his purpose was. It was to show me that there was a greatness inside of me that I would have never been able to find otherwise. It was to show me that even dealing with something so extremely difficult. I had enough power and strength that I could hold on and come out of it better. That every time it flares up. It's just a motivator.
I am stronger for having anxiety as crazy as that may seem. There are days that I'll hate it and it'll be the worse thing in the world. I know I can get through those days.
There was a philosopher, I can't remember who though, said something along the lines of: That we can't possible know how big a rectangle is until we find it's limits, it's borders. We are limited by infinity because we don't know where those lines are. That's how life is. We like to think that we can do ANYTHING but the truth is. We can't do Anything until we know what we can't do. Once we know what we can't do, then we can try to move beyond it.
Anxiety helps draw those lines and it can help us move beyond them as well.
Hang in there my friends. You will be stronger for having to deal with this. You will reveal a greatness in you that you never would have been able to find without it. Keep treading.
What most don't know is that in small doses Hemlock was actually used for medicinal purposes. It actually could HELP your body. Which only fuels the old adage that too much of a good thing is bad. Really bad in this case.
I've noticed throughout my life that I have this tendency to focus on the former type knowledge about something. I view things as a negative, something to overcome, something to get through. I addressed my anxiety in such a way. It was something I had to fight. It was a negative. Something to overcome.
My recent struggles with the disorder have caused me to come out of it looking at it in a different light. It falls into the latter of the examples. Anxiety can actually be a positive in life. When kept under control and in moderation. This does not mean that I think those of us suffering through the disease should just embrace it and let it go nuts. Rather, that with the help of medication, meditation, therapy, and positive thinking, a little anxiety isn't such a bad thing.
As an explanation for this I can only state my own outlook on my life. Anxiety has been a bitch in my life. It's caused situations that shouldn't have been difficult to be a fight for survival. I've had to wake up some mornings only to feel that the next 24 hours were just me treading water, trying to keep my head above the waves. I was drowning. I hated it. It hated me. All i wanted to do was quit and let myself sink, but the thought of that scared me more than my desire to give in.
So I continued to tread. I continued to swim. I continued to fight. I got help. I got medicated. I started going to therapy. I started opening up about the things that were causing it. I've gotten to the point where I feel like I can deal with it. I'm no longer in the deep end of the pool, kicking, struggling, trying to survive. I'm in the shallow end. The water is at my waist. It's not gone but I'm able to deal. I thought that I was content with that.
Then I looked down at the water and noticed something. My metaphorical leg muscles were huge. All that kicking had made them sinewy and ripped. I was stronger than when I started. I could wade out into the pool and I could handle being in the deep in for extended periods of time without stress. Without tiring, without feeling like I was gonna drown.
That is how my battle with anxiety has changed. I feel now I can handle situations that I avoided. I feel stronger. that doesn't mean I want to jump into those stressful situations, but rather, I have a knowledge that I can handle them should they arise and I don't have to go out of my way to avoid them.
My perspective had changed. I had been drinking a little hemlock everyday and my immunity to it grew. I even benefited from it.
Anxiety is a terrible terrible thing and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I couldn't understand why God had put me in such a situation. To make me suffer through it. To make anyone suffer through it. But now, now I think I know what his purpose was. It was to show me that there was a greatness inside of me that I would have never been able to find otherwise. It was to show me that even dealing with something so extremely difficult. I had enough power and strength that I could hold on and come out of it better. That every time it flares up. It's just a motivator.
I am stronger for having anxiety as crazy as that may seem. There are days that I'll hate it and it'll be the worse thing in the world. I know I can get through those days.
There was a philosopher, I can't remember who though, said something along the lines of: That we can't possible know how big a rectangle is until we find it's limits, it's borders. We are limited by infinity because we don't know where those lines are. That's how life is. We like to think that we can do ANYTHING but the truth is. We can't do Anything until we know what we can't do. Once we know what we can't do, then we can try to move beyond it.
Anxiety helps draw those lines and it can help us move beyond them as well.
Hang in there my friends. You will be stronger for having to deal with this. You will reveal a greatness in you that you never would have been able to find without it. Keep treading.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
My mission statement.
My therapist posed this question to me last thursday. He asked me what my life mission or motto would be. Knowing what my desires or life motto is would maybe help me swim the currents of life a little better. Give me something to turn to or at least knowing in the back of my mind how I wanted to handle what life throws at me. I thought this was a very interesting idea so I decided I would sit down and hash out what kind of person I want to be/how I would look at life.
Mood Music- Bach playlist
As I was thinking about this in the shower after a few hours of playing ball with my boys, there was one thing I seemed to keep relating too. That was a tree.
I'd like to think that my life began was I was carefully placed in a specific situation by a loving hand (God). I was laid carefully in fertile ground and which insured that I would receive both the loving support I needed for my roots but also the freedom to spread my wings. I am still a young tree, not a sapling a bit older but far from being the strong oak or giant redwood that I would like to be.
I want to be an individual who has strongly laid roots. I want to settle in a location that is home. I want my roots to spread wide and grow strong. I want to have firm ideals, morals, and beliefs. I want to be strong enough that I can defend or declare these beliefs and opinions with enough vigor as to get my point across but not have them forced on others. I also would like to be a tree that can yield. I want to be able to open to new ideas and beliefs. I want to be able to bend but not break. I want to be open minded and compassionate enough that I may recognize others have just as valid beliefs as myself, even if they are complete opposites.
Eventually I would like my lone tree to turn into a small copse of trees. I would like to be able to provide them protection from the elements of life but also be able to allow them enough room and space to grow strong on their own. That they too may grow strong roots and be healthy.
I want to be a tree that provides protection for those who need it. One that provides relief for the weary. Fruit for the hungry and provides shade for the burdened.
I want to be a tree that is known, a tree that is admired, a tree that is beautiful and a tree that is practical.
Oh and I wouldn't mind being a handsome tree =)
Mood Music- Bach playlist
As I was thinking about this in the shower after a few hours of playing ball with my boys, there was one thing I seemed to keep relating too. That was a tree.
I'd like to think that my life began was I was carefully placed in a specific situation by a loving hand (God). I was laid carefully in fertile ground and which insured that I would receive both the loving support I needed for my roots but also the freedom to spread my wings. I am still a young tree, not a sapling a bit older but far from being the strong oak or giant redwood that I would like to be.
I want to be an individual who has strongly laid roots. I want to settle in a location that is home. I want my roots to spread wide and grow strong. I want to have firm ideals, morals, and beliefs. I want to be strong enough that I can defend or declare these beliefs and opinions with enough vigor as to get my point across but not have them forced on others. I also would like to be a tree that can yield. I want to be able to open to new ideas and beliefs. I want to be able to bend but not break. I want to be open minded and compassionate enough that I may recognize others have just as valid beliefs as myself, even if they are complete opposites.
Eventually I would like my lone tree to turn into a small copse of trees. I would like to be able to provide them protection from the elements of life but also be able to allow them enough room and space to grow strong on their own. That they too may grow strong roots and be healthy.
I want to be a tree that provides protection for those who need it. One that provides relief for the weary. Fruit for the hungry and provides shade for the burdened.
I want to be a tree that is known, a tree that is admired, a tree that is beautiful and a tree that is practical.
Oh and I wouldn't mind being a handsome tree =)
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Terrified.
I need to write. I don't know about what but I need to write. I feel like I'm on the verge of a Panic Attack or Anxiety Attack. It kinda feels like the calm right before the storm. I'm tense, I feel hopeless, and my meditation/breathing techniques feel like they are trying to bail out a sinking ship with a teaspoon.
I don't know why I'm stressed. I should be relatively happy. A lot of things are going right. I have an easy enough Job at the school which is giving me something to do for a few hours a day. It lets be get to be around the students who really brighten my day. It also gives me at least a little income to save up and pay off my bills with. It's not much but it's better than nothing. Especially with my anxiety.
I have some direction with schooling now. I've got my study helps for the GRE and have been trying to study a little every day. I know when deadlines and stuff are for applying to grad school and I have goals set. I'm pretty rusty at math because I haven't done any in 5 years and my verbal skills aren't where I want them to be, but I think I can get there.
Things are good at home. Things are good with my friends. Although I miss Jeremy and his family a lot. It's been hard having them gone especially when I've spent so much time with them over the years. Heck, things are even good with Kelly. We've talked everyday this week. No drama. I really opened up to her about how I felt towards her and I think it might have helped strengthen our relationship.
So why am I freaking out right now? Why do I feel like everything is hopeless. I'm going to fail at everything. I'm not gonna get into BYU or I will and the program won't be what I want to do with my life. I'm not going to find a career and I'm always going to be strapped for cash. Hell, even all my friends are getting married and are moving on. They are going to leave me alone. This is how I feel. I have no reason to feel that way and I keep reminding myself that everything is alright. Even if all that happens I'll still be okay. I'll survive.
I'm terrified right now that I'm never going to beat this anxiety. That the knot in my tummy isn't ever gonna go away completely. That it's going to keep me from having a lasting relationship with a spouse and children. That I'll be too worried about things to ever really enjoy anything again. It's scary and I'm scared.
I talked to my therapist today and kinda told him what I've been feeling the last week or two. That my progress has leveled off and I'm not going forward anymore. I told him that I'm planning on upping my meds. Which I found out are only anxiety meds and not anti depressants as well. Hopefully upping the dosage with help me get rid of the stress and that will have an affect on my depression. I hope it helps.
I'll be okay. I think. I just wish Kelly would call so I could take my mind off things for a while.
I don't know why I'm stressed. I should be relatively happy. A lot of things are going right. I have an easy enough Job at the school which is giving me something to do for a few hours a day. It lets be get to be around the students who really brighten my day. It also gives me at least a little income to save up and pay off my bills with. It's not much but it's better than nothing. Especially with my anxiety.
I have some direction with schooling now. I've got my study helps for the GRE and have been trying to study a little every day. I know when deadlines and stuff are for applying to grad school and I have goals set. I'm pretty rusty at math because I haven't done any in 5 years and my verbal skills aren't where I want them to be, but I think I can get there.
Things are good at home. Things are good with my friends. Although I miss Jeremy and his family a lot. It's been hard having them gone especially when I've spent so much time with them over the years. Heck, things are even good with Kelly. We've talked everyday this week. No drama. I really opened up to her about how I felt towards her and I think it might have helped strengthen our relationship.
So why am I freaking out right now? Why do I feel like everything is hopeless. I'm going to fail at everything. I'm not gonna get into BYU or I will and the program won't be what I want to do with my life. I'm not going to find a career and I'm always going to be strapped for cash. Hell, even all my friends are getting married and are moving on. They are going to leave me alone. This is how I feel. I have no reason to feel that way and I keep reminding myself that everything is alright. Even if all that happens I'll still be okay. I'll survive.
I'm terrified right now that I'm never going to beat this anxiety. That the knot in my tummy isn't ever gonna go away completely. That it's going to keep me from having a lasting relationship with a spouse and children. That I'll be too worried about things to ever really enjoy anything again. It's scary and I'm scared.
I talked to my therapist today and kinda told him what I've been feeling the last week or two. That my progress has leveled off and I'm not going forward anymore. I told him that I'm planning on upping my meds. Which I found out are only anxiety meds and not anti depressants as well. Hopefully upping the dosage with help me get rid of the stress and that will have an affect on my depression. I hope it helps.
I'll be okay. I think. I just wish Kelly would call so I could take my mind off things for a while.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Gratitude
I'm feeling pretty good today. Yesterday was kind of "blah" but I feel re-energized right now. At least as of 2:30 in the afternoon. I thought maybe I would try to change the tone of today's post to something happier. An expression of gratitude if you will.
Perhaps the one good thing that has come out of my anxiety is the incredible people that I've had in my life which have helped me deal with it. There are way too many people to thank, friends, family, mission buddies, doctors, etc. So I'll just do one big shout out to everyone and say Thank you.
I hate Anxiety and depression. Hate it. Wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. However, I am grateful for the relationships that have come out of it and the feelings of kinship I have with others who have gone through similar situations. It's a bonding experience that comes from something horrible. It's a constant reminder that there are others around you who are going through the same things you are or who have already dealt with it and are willing to extend a hand down into your darkness.
If there is one thing I've learned from my experiences thus far, it's that being quiet and trying to deal with it on your own is not the answer. I was able to beat down my anxiety upon arriving home from my mission and ignored it. I didn't really talk about it and I thought if I just didn't worry about it, it wouldn't keep happening. I thought I had removed myself from the problem and that the illness would go away. I didn't know that the problem was inside of me and was just waiting to bubble over again. Now I know that was the wrong thing to do. It's certainly something we don't have to go through alone.
So today I am grateful. Grateful for my family and friends who've supported me. Those who've reached out to me. Those who've listened to my crazed worry-filled exclamations day in and day out. Today is a good day and I'm going to enjoy it for what it is, while it lasts. It's these moments that are stress free that I've come to appreciate most.
This made me smile:
Perhaps the one good thing that has come out of my anxiety is the incredible people that I've had in my life which have helped me deal with it. There are way too many people to thank, friends, family, mission buddies, doctors, etc. So I'll just do one big shout out to everyone and say Thank you.
I hate Anxiety and depression. Hate it. Wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. However, I am grateful for the relationships that have come out of it and the feelings of kinship I have with others who have gone through similar situations. It's a bonding experience that comes from something horrible. It's a constant reminder that there are others around you who are going through the same things you are or who have already dealt with it and are willing to extend a hand down into your darkness.
If there is one thing I've learned from my experiences thus far, it's that being quiet and trying to deal with it on your own is not the answer. I was able to beat down my anxiety upon arriving home from my mission and ignored it. I didn't really talk about it and I thought if I just didn't worry about it, it wouldn't keep happening. I thought I had removed myself from the problem and that the illness would go away. I didn't know that the problem was inside of me and was just waiting to bubble over again. Now I know that was the wrong thing to do. It's certainly something we don't have to go through alone.
So today I am grateful. Grateful for my family and friends who've supported me. Those who've reached out to me. Those who've listened to my crazed worry-filled exclamations day in and day out. Today is a good day and I'm going to enjoy it for what it is, while it lasts. It's these moments that are stress free that I've come to appreciate most.
This made me smile:
Monday, August 29, 2011
Rituals.
There is something to be said about having a ritual or habit. It's one of those things in life that make us feel comfortable. It's reliable. Whether it's that we have pizza every friday night, we tune into our favorite TV show every Tuesday, or even that at midnight every day you take your meds. I have many of these kind of rituals and habits. I usually wake up and pee at a certain time then go back to sleep for a bit. My family eats dinner around 6 pm every evening. There is football during the fall and winter every Sunday and Monday night. These are things that I love. Things I rely on. Things that I find comfort in.
One of these newer things lately has been talking to Kelly before we fall asleep at night. It's been going on since we first met. The timing has varied but after 9 I start expecting that call from her when she gets in bed. I love it. I love knowing that I'm the last person she talks to before falling asleep is me. I love knowing when she's about to fall asleep because of how quiet her voice gets. I love hearing her fan whirring in the background and the soft meows coming from her cat. It's just nice. Nice to have something like that to close the day with.
Now you may read this and go, "wow, what a chick!" or "That's kinda cute." It's gotten beyond that though. It's something that I've started to rely on. There are days when I'm busy or Kelly is busy and we don't get to talk. No big deal right? For whatever reason, it's a big deal to my anxiety. It's become a double edged sword and I really don't know what to do about it. If 11 rolls around and I haven't gotten a call yet, I start to get a little stressed. A little nervous. I'm not even sure why.
It's ridiculous really. It's unrealistic to have expectations like that. Especially when you're not dating someone or married. You don't always get to talk to people. The thing is. I have friends that I talk to daily. If I don't get to talk to them one day, it's usually not a big deal. No stress. No worry. No anxiety. With Kelly though. It can get to the point where I am not able to sleep the next night or that I feel tense until the next time we get to talk. Which really isn't fair. It's not fair to her to have that kind of pressure put on her and it's not fair to me to feel that way or to feel like an idiot about feeling that way.
The thing is. I really don't know how to stop it. My mind can constantly reassure myself that everything is ok. I mean I KNOW it'll be okay the next day. I know that most likely I'll talk to her the following day. So why does my body react this way? Why do I get this pit in my stomach?
This is the thing that makes anxiety so frustrating for me. It's that I can know for a fact that I'll be ok or things will work out but I will still get anxious and stressed. I don't know how to explain it. It's like having the flu without being sick. You can be in a completely healthy state but still throw up over and over and over. This is what this anxiety has become in a lot of ways.
So i ask myself: Why is this happening?
1. It could just because it's a habit and when it doesn't happen it feels like something's amiss. (I don't know if this is the case though. If I miss dinner with the family, or if I don't get to watch football, there is no stress. No problem.)
2. Is it because I'm nervous she's forgetting me or leaving me? (I think at some level it might be an abandonment issue. It's that I have no control over the situation. I know I really like this girl and I'm pretty sure she likes me too. I know that it would suck if she left me for someone else. I'd probably feel pretty shitty for a long while, but I know as much as it would hurt. I would survive.
Plus, there is the fact that it's not fair to her. I don't want to be clingy or come off clingy. No one likes that. I don't want her to feel like she HAS to talk to me either. I know she has a life and that's good. Any relationship I have with anyone on any level is going to be like this. I have no control over them or the situation and I can't have unrealistic expectations about it. This is something I need to work on, but I don't know if this is what's causing me to get nervous at night when we don't talk.)
3. Maybe it's a combination of 1&2.
So how do I fix it?
1. Stop talking everyday. (I don't want to do this. Why? I like the girl alot. I like everything about talking to her before we fall asleep. It's awesome and it makes me feel good about myself. Not only that, if we stopped talking everyday, that would probably mean we'd never have a shot at a relationship. Right now all we have is talking on the phone and I really want it to go further than that. I wanna date her.)
2. Get over it. (This is what I want to happen and have been trying to work on. I know such expectations of talking everyday are unrealistic. Rationally and emotionally I feel like I should be fine with not talking to her once in a while. I realize things come up. I mean I'll continue to WANT to talk to her everynight but if it doesn't happen, I should be able to understand that and go on with life till we get to talk again. So why isn't this happening?)
3. I do my meditation and take my medication. (I've been doing both of these but it still seems to occur. It's not nearly as bad as it used to be a few weeks ago but it still happens and I would like it to be gone completely.)
4. Talk to her about it. (I don't know if I want to go down this road or not. It's not fair for me to put that kind of pressure on her. We aren't boyfriend and girlfriend. It's not fair to expect her to do something everyday. It's not fair to stress her out because I'm stressing out over something stupid. This is something I need to deal with. It's something that I'm going to have to get used to if I want to have any type of relationship. I need to be able to give people space and have the strength of character to just let things be. I can't control everything or change everything or expect others to do everything for me.)
So for right now I'm stuck trying to cope with it and even as I write this I feel a little nervous because it's 11:30 and I haven't gotten a call from her yet. I know things are ok because we texted earlier. So why am I stressing? I want to work on this. If she doesn't call tonight. I'm going to be ok.
One of these newer things lately has been talking to Kelly before we fall asleep at night. It's been going on since we first met. The timing has varied but after 9 I start expecting that call from her when she gets in bed. I love it. I love knowing that I'm the last person she talks to before falling asleep is me. I love knowing when she's about to fall asleep because of how quiet her voice gets. I love hearing her fan whirring in the background and the soft meows coming from her cat. It's just nice. Nice to have something like that to close the day with.
Now you may read this and go, "wow, what a chick!" or "That's kinda cute." It's gotten beyond that though. It's something that I've started to rely on. There are days when I'm busy or Kelly is busy and we don't get to talk. No big deal right? For whatever reason, it's a big deal to my anxiety. It's become a double edged sword and I really don't know what to do about it. If 11 rolls around and I haven't gotten a call yet, I start to get a little stressed. A little nervous. I'm not even sure why.
It's ridiculous really. It's unrealistic to have expectations like that. Especially when you're not dating someone or married. You don't always get to talk to people. The thing is. I have friends that I talk to daily. If I don't get to talk to them one day, it's usually not a big deal. No stress. No worry. No anxiety. With Kelly though. It can get to the point where I am not able to sleep the next night or that I feel tense until the next time we get to talk. Which really isn't fair. It's not fair to her to have that kind of pressure put on her and it's not fair to me to feel that way or to feel like an idiot about feeling that way.
The thing is. I really don't know how to stop it. My mind can constantly reassure myself that everything is ok. I mean I KNOW it'll be okay the next day. I know that most likely I'll talk to her the following day. So why does my body react this way? Why do I get this pit in my stomach?
This is the thing that makes anxiety so frustrating for me. It's that I can know for a fact that I'll be ok or things will work out but I will still get anxious and stressed. I don't know how to explain it. It's like having the flu without being sick. You can be in a completely healthy state but still throw up over and over and over. This is what this anxiety has become in a lot of ways.
So i ask myself: Why is this happening?
1. It could just because it's a habit and when it doesn't happen it feels like something's amiss. (I don't know if this is the case though. If I miss dinner with the family, or if I don't get to watch football, there is no stress. No problem.)
2. Is it because I'm nervous she's forgetting me or leaving me? (I think at some level it might be an abandonment issue. It's that I have no control over the situation. I know I really like this girl and I'm pretty sure she likes me too. I know that it would suck if she left me for someone else. I'd probably feel pretty shitty for a long while, but I know as much as it would hurt. I would survive.
Plus, there is the fact that it's not fair to her. I don't want to be clingy or come off clingy. No one likes that. I don't want her to feel like she HAS to talk to me either. I know she has a life and that's good. Any relationship I have with anyone on any level is going to be like this. I have no control over them or the situation and I can't have unrealistic expectations about it. This is something I need to work on, but I don't know if this is what's causing me to get nervous at night when we don't talk.)
3. Maybe it's a combination of 1&2.
So how do I fix it?
1. Stop talking everyday. (I don't want to do this. Why? I like the girl alot. I like everything about talking to her before we fall asleep. It's awesome and it makes me feel good about myself. Not only that, if we stopped talking everyday, that would probably mean we'd never have a shot at a relationship. Right now all we have is talking on the phone and I really want it to go further than that. I wanna date her.)
2. Get over it. (This is what I want to happen and have been trying to work on. I know such expectations of talking everyday are unrealistic. Rationally and emotionally I feel like I should be fine with not talking to her once in a while. I realize things come up. I mean I'll continue to WANT to talk to her everynight but if it doesn't happen, I should be able to understand that and go on with life till we get to talk again. So why isn't this happening?)
3. I do my meditation and take my medication. (I've been doing both of these but it still seems to occur. It's not nearly as bad as it used to be a few weeks ago but it still happens and I would like it to be gone completely.)
4. Talk to her about it. (I don't know if I want to go down this road or not. It's not fair for me to put that kind of pressure on her. We aren't boyfriend and girlfriend. It's not fair to expect her to do something everyday. It's not fair to stress her out because I'm stressing out over something stupid. This is something I need to deal with. It's something that I'm going to have to get used to if I want to have any type of relationship. I need to be able to give people space and have the strength of character to just let things be. I can't control everything or change everything or expect others to do everything for me.)
So for right now I'm stuck trying to cope with it and even as I write this I feel a little nervous because it's 11:30 and I haven't gotten a call from her yet. I know things are ok because we texted earlier. So why am I stressing? I want to work on this. If she doesn't call tonight. I'm going to be ok.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Anxiety journal
I haven't written here for a while. I don't think anyone really noticed anyways. I think I'm going to try and use this here as an outlet for my anxiety. A way of expressing myself. The thoughts and feelings I'm having that are irrational and eccentric. Maybe it'll help, maybe it won't but it's worth a try.
This past summer has probably been the worst anxiety filled 3-4 months since my mission. Which is worrisome for a few reasons. 1. While it hasn't been as severe as it was on my mission or as intense it's been happening longer now then when I was in Iowa. 2. There doesn't seem to be a place for me to retreat to in order to overcome it. In Iowa my thought was always "If I can get home, than I can deal with this and i'll be safe." Now it just feels like the pit in my stomach follows me everywhere I go most days. There are moments of relief. There are days when I feel fine and then there are days like today where I just feel like I'm not getting any better. All the progress i had been making with the meds and therapist visits are slowing down. That troubles me.
I guess I always knew that I wouldn't ever be able to beat this completely. It would always lurk there in the back of my mind but I thought I'd be able to lock it up. That I would have enough weapons against it that it would rarely, if ever, get out of control. As I started the meds and therapy, there was hope that this would happen. I started going to church, taking meds, doing meditation, thinking happy thoughts, and visiting my doctor once a week. I felt I could beat this. I'm over a month into it now and I am already starting to wear out.
The stress is better now. The meditation helps slow down any attacks and the meds really take a bite out of them. I still have to fight thought. I'm just tired of it.
When I'm out camping with my friends for 2 days I shouldn't be stressing out. I should be enjoying myself. For the most part that's what happened, but the second night out there I had an attack. I'm not sure what triggered it. Not sure if it was the pitch black room I was sleeping in, if it was because I couldn't just go home, or if it was because I was missing Kelly. It happened though and that's frustrating. My mother says I should be proud that I was even able to go and handle it, that it was a big step. I just find it annoying. My friends aren't stressed out about this kinda crap while we are together, why am I?
The same can be said of my relationship with the gorgeous blonde girl I've been trying to date all summer. Honestly, a year ago I would just have been happy that someone that goodlooking liked me and was talking to me every night. This summer its a completely different story. I like her and I like talking to her and I even want to date her. She says she wants all those things too. Which should make me completely happy. Yet, for some reason I can't get over little things. She's busy and doesn't text back often and instead of being happy when she does, I worry I've done something wrong when she doesn't. It's not healthy to have that kind of expectations for someone else. Especially when you're not in a relationship. I shouldn't be expecting a phone call or a text everyday. I blow it out of proportion though. My tummy is in knots because I didn't get a phone call from her lastnight. She was with her brothers and then her roommates at a party, enjoying her last weekend before school starts. I want her to have those experiences, to enjoy herself, to not feel obligated. My body acts differently though. It gets stressed and tense. I wake up at 4:30 in the morning and am up till 6 because I can't fall asleep for more than 10 minutes at a time. My mind keeps telling it everything is fine but it seems to think differently.
It's not healthy. Yea, the relationship we have is a little weird and somewhat stressful. Anyone else I know would just be happy with it. Not stress over it. I over analyze it and make myself sick. I hate that. I want to be care free and anxious free.
So that brings me to right now. I'm terrified of everything and nothing at the same time. I feel stuck and I'm really not. I feel like every choice I make has to be perfect and it doesn't. I can't seem to give myself a break. Anxiety is a bitch. So when my parents ask me if I'm feeling suicidal. I'm not. (really I'm not). That doesn't mean that 3 hours ago while sitting in church feeling stressed out over nothing that I was contemplating it. Not in the "oh i'm going to do this way" but in the daydreamy "what if" sort of way. i wouldn't have to deal with the anxiety anymore. I could never do it though. I want too much out of life. I want to experience love, and children, and a profession. I could never hurt my friends and family by ending myself. It makes me feel gut wrenchingly guilty just thinking about it. I love them too much and i want to be around them too much. I just don't want the anxiety anymore. Any of it. I want to be 10 again and doing everything without a care in the world. The problem with being an adult is that we are so worried about the consquences of everything. As a child, we are just in it for the moment. I want to get back to that attitude sometime in my life. For now though, I'd be content with just being able to concentrate on what's on TV without being paranoid over when Kelly is going to call, or if I'm going to pass the GRE, or if the MPA program is really what I want to do with my life.
So yea. Anxiety is a bitch. I miss Jeremy. I dunno what I'm doing with my life. Oh, and I really like Kelly. Peachy. Somehow I'll hold on. Somehow.
If anyone out there is also dealing with Anxiety, panic disorders, or unusual levels of stress. I would love to hear how you're coping with it.
This past summer has probably been the worst anxiety filled 3-4 months since my mission. Which is worrisome for a few reasons. 1. While it hasn't been as severe as it was on my mission or as intense it's been happening longer now then when I was in Iowa. 2. There doesn't seem to be a place for me to retreat to in order to overcome it. In Iowa my thought was always "If I can get home, than I can deal with this and i'll be safe." Now it just feels like the pit in my stomach follows me everywhere I go most days. There are moments of relief. There are days when I feel fine and then there are days like today where I just feel like I'm not getting any better. All the progress i had been making with the meds and therapist visits are slowing down. That troubles me.
I guess I always knew that I wouldn't ever be able to beat this completely. It would always lurk there in the back of my mind but I thought I'd be able to lock it up. That I would have enough weapons against it that it would rarely, if ever, get out of control. As I started the meds and therapy, there was hope that this would happen. I started going to church, taking meds, doing meditation, thinking happy thoughts, and visiting my doctor once a week. I felt I could beat this. I'm over a month into it now and I am already starting to wear out.
The stress is better now. The meditation helps slow down any attacks and the meds really take a bite out of them. I still have to fight thought. I'm just tired of it.
When I'm out camping with my friends for 2 days I shouldn't be stressing out. I should be enjoying myself. For the most part that's what happened, but the second night out there I had an attack. I'm not sure what triggered it. Not sure if it was the pitch black room I was sleeping in, if it was because I couldn't just go home, or if it was because I was missing Kelly. It happened though and that's frustrating. My mother says I should be proud that I was even able to go and handle it, that it was a big step. I just find it annoying. My friends aren't stressed out about this kinda crap while we are together, why am I?
The same can be said of my relationship with the gorgeous blonde girl I've been trying to date all summer. Honestly, a year ago I would just have been happy that someone that goodlooking liked me and was talking to me every night. This summer its a completely different story. I like her and I like talking to her and I even want to date her. She says she wants all those things too. Which should make me completely happy. Yet, for some reason I can't get over little things. She's busy and doesn't text back often and instead of being happy when she does, I worry I've done something wrong when she doesn't. It's not healthy to have that kind of expectations for someone else. Especially when you're not in a relationship. I shouldn't be expecting a phone call or a text everyday. I blow it out of proportion though. My tummy is in knots because I didn't get a phone call from her lastnight. She was with her brothers and then her roommates at a party, enjoying her last weekend before school starts. I want her to have those experiences, to enjoy herself, to not feel obligated. My body acts differently though. It gets stressed and tense. I wake up at 4:30 in the morning and am up till 6 because I can't fall asleep for more than 10 minutes at a time. My mind keeps telling it everything is fine but it seems to think differently.
It's not healthy. Yea, the relationship we have is a little weird and somewhat stressful. Anyone else I know would just be happy with it. Not stress over it. I over analyze it and make myself sick. I hate that. I want to be care free and anxious free.
So that brings me to right now. I'm terrified of everything and nothing at the same time. I feel stuck and I'm really not. I feel like every choice I make has to be perfect and it doesn't. I can't seem to give myself a break. Anxiety is a bitch. So when my parents ask me if I'm feeling suicidal. I'm not. (really I'm not). That doesn't mean that 3 hours ago while sitting in church feeling stressed out over nothing that I was contemplating it. Not in the "oh i'm going to do this way" but in the daydreamy "what if" sort of way. i wouldn't have to deal with the anxiety anymore. I could never do it though. I want too much out of life. I want to experience love, and children, and a profession. I could never hurt my friends and family by ending myself. It makes me feel gut wrenchingly guilty just thinking about it. I love them too much and i want to be around them too much. I just don't want the anxiety anymore. Any of it. I want to be 10 again and doing everything without a care in the world. The problem with being an adult is that we are so worried about the consquences of everything. As a child, we are just in it for the moment. I want to get back to that attitude sometime in my life. For now though, I'd be content with just being able to concentrate on what's on TV without being paranoid over when Kelly is going to call, or if I'm going to pass the GRE, or if the MPA program is really what I want to do with my life.
So yea. Anxiety is a bitch. I miss Jeremy. I dunno what I'm doing with my life. Oh, and I really like Kelly. Peachy. Somehow I'll hold on. Somehow.
If anyone out there is also dealing with Anxiety, panic disorders, or unusual levels of stress. I would love to hear how you're coping with it.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Anxiety
This is directed at women. Not anyone particularly but all of them with the same level of importance.
It's not fair. It's just simply not fair that I can sit here on pins and needles stressed out over whether or not you like me. I can't help that I like you and I can't help but what that reciprocated back. I'm only human. On the flip side, I realize you also have feelings of stress and worries. They are probably very similiar to mine, in fact. I can't say much on this because I am only a man and I can only tell you about my feelings.
I'm 23 years old and have an anxiety disorder that none to kindly showed up on my mission. 4 almost 5 years later, i am kind of over the whole thing. Not like "recovered" more like "fed up." I'm just so tired of this shit. Mostly because it pops up in the most random of situations and out of the blue now. I've beaten it back and repressed it enough that it only leaks out over the stupidest of shit.
Which brings me to where I'm at now. I don't date alot. Never have. I'm somewhat of a flirt though. Not because I want the attention, but because I like the feeling of knowing I'm making someone else smile and that in return they are also being affectionate. I don't do it because I have some under cut need to get action. I do it because it makes me feel good and i think it makes others feel good as well. Honestly, I think I'm just a nice guy. I'm not a player. I hate those guys and I hate when people think I am.
So now, at the anciently seeming age of 23 I've decided I want to start dating. So what happens? My seemingly dormant anxiety problem has blown up all over the place the last few weeks. Im scared shitless. All because I am worried about whether or not some girl is going to like me back or if she is mad at me. Now I realize it's not fair for me to put all this on girls. They can't help that I'm crazy. ON the other hand, they can do better than standing me up at the fkin movies, or telling me they'll call me and then just never hearing from them again. They can do better than telling me I'm a jerk on the phone because 2 weeks ago I was crushing on someone else or that I have a history with other girls.
My point is. I'm 23. I have a history. I've had a few female friends. Not alot. I have though. I can' thelp that. I can't help that i've done some pretty stupid shit in my time. I'm only 23 though and if some girl is willing to give me a shot. I can promise that I can do better, that I can make them my future if they are willing to forget my past. I'm not perfect.
I'm tired of trying to be perfect. I'm tired of this anxiety. I'm tired of feeling broken. I am Jason. 23 year old Jason. No better, no worse. Im trying to move forward, I just wish my body would let me, but I suppose we all have demons.
Damn demons.
It's not fair. It's just simply not fair that I can sit here on pins and needles stressed out over whether or not you like me. I can't help that I like you and I can't help but what that reciprocated back. I'm only human. On the flip side, I realize you also have feelings of stress and worries. They are probably very similiar to mine, in fact. I can't say much on this because I am only a man and I can only tell you about my feelings.
I'm 23 years old and have an anxiety disorder that none to kindly showed up on my mission. 4 almost 5 years later, i am kind of over the whole thing. Not like "recovered" more like "fed up." I'm just so tired of this shit. Mostly because it pops up in the most random of situations and out of the blue now. I've beaten it back and repressed it enough that it only leaks out over the stupidest of shit.
Which brings me to where I'm at now. I don't date alot. Never have. I'm somewhat of a flirt though. Not because I want the attention, but because I like the feeling of knowing I'm making someone else smile and that in return they are also being affectionate. I don't do it because I have some under cut need to get action. I do it because it makes me feel good and i think it makes others feel good as well. Honestly, I think I'm just a nice guy. I'm not a player. I hate those guys and I hate when people think I am.
So now, at the anciently seeming age of 23 I've decided I want to start dating. So what happens? My seemingly dormant anxiety problem has blown up all over the place the last few weeks. Im scared shitless. All because I am worried about whether or not some girl is going to like me back or if she is mad at me. Now I realize it's not fair for me to put all this on girls. They can't help that I'm crazy. ON the other hand, they can do better than standing me up at the fkin movies, or telling me they'll call me and then just never hearing from them again. They can do better than telling me I'm a jerk on the phone because 2 weeks ago I was crushing on someone else or that I have a history with other girls.
My point is. I'm 23. I have a history. I've had a few female friends. Not alot. I have though. I can' thelp that. I can't help that i've done some pretty stupid shit in my time. I'm only 23 though and if some girl is willing to give me a shot. I can promise that I can do better, that I can make them my future if they are willing to forget my past. I'm not perfect.
I'm tired of trying to be perfect. I'm tired of this anxiety. I'm tired of feeling broken. I am Jason. 23 year old Jason. No better, no worse. Im trying to move forward, I just wish my body would let me, but I suppose we all have demons.
Damn demons.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
The Day the Earth Stood Still
Through sheer boredom the other night I decided to pop in The Day the Earth Stood Still. Not the ridiculously long old black and white verision but the new bastardized, Keanu (My name means cool breeze going over the mountain) Reeves verision. It's not amazing, it's not completely awful, but I wouldn't waste your time with it unless you have nothing better to do.
ANYWAYS, my point here is that during the height of the plot some noble prize winning old dude argues with the Alien that humanity can change their ways. The alien disagrees but the wise old fart tells him that humanity can only change when they are forced to the prepice of disaster.
and that's what struck me.
I am completely like this. I only make significant changes when I'm faced with utter destruction. Okay, so I've really never had my life threatened (except for the time I almost stepped on a rattlesnake, or the time I locked myself in the trunk of my car for 30 minutes and was only saved because my mom got a prompting, or the time I was driving with cassie and a giant ass car flew through the air and nearly killed us all, or that time Jack Bauer saved us from the nuclear blast on 24) but there have been significant moments in my life which have caused me to change.
and lately I'm feeling like I want to change again but I don't have the will power to do so without something drastic happening.
So do I create a catalyst of events I have no control over in order to change, or do I continue to try and change even though I've been trying for years to know avail, or do I just give up.
If only the earth would stay still for a while while I decide.
ANYWAYS, my point here is that during the height of the plot some noble prize winning old dude argues with the Alien that humanity can change their ways. The alien disagrees but the wise old fart tells him that humanity can only change when they are forced to the prepice of disaster.
and that's what struck me.
I am completely like this. I only make significant changes when I'm faced with utter destruction. Okay, so I've really never had my life threatened (except for the time I almost stepped on a rattlesnake, or the time I locked myself in the trunk of my car for 30 minutes and was only saved because my mom got a prompting, or the time I was driving with cassie and a giant ass car flew through the air and nearly killed us all, or that time Jack Bauer saved us from the nuclear blast on 24) but there have been significant moments in my life which have caused me to change.
and lately I'm feeling like I want to change again but I don't have the will power to do so without something drastic happening.
So do I create a catalyst of events I have no control over in order to change, or do I continue to try and change even though I've been trying for years to know avail, or do I just give up.
If only the earth would stay still for a while while I decide.
Monday, January 17, 2011
God save us all.
There it is. Sitting there. It's inviting. It's addicting. It carries itself with a come hither look that seduces you the moment you lay eyes on it.
Then....
You pounce. You tear into it wantonly. Inhibitionless. It's beautiful. It's horrifying. It's enticing. You embrace it and smother it with adoration. It yeilds to you. You possess it and it gives itself freely. Every thought and twitch of physical exerition it gives way. Pure bliss. Sexual, carnal, satisfying bliss.
The moment passes. You become conscious again. Aware. Then it sets in. You stand back in shock. Disgusting. You are disgusting. Vile. Weak. Helpless. There's no way that just happened. But it did.
Whimper... Denial....
Never again. You'll turn your back on it next time. You won't give in. You hide it. Bury it. Lie to yourself. No one knows, and the ones who do don't care. You're safe. Ashamed. Hurt. You're fine.
Deep down you know.....
It'll happen again. It always does. It's hidden in the back of your mind. Hanging there. Waiting. Singing it's siren song softly. Unaware. You sail quietly back into it's waters. Playing cat and mouse with disappointment.
This is how I feel when it comes to flaws. I consistantly indulge in things I know are bad for me. Debates. Disappointment. Dating. Lies. Gluttony. Jealousy. Drama. Sins.
I can't get away. I try to lie to myself. Somehow I'll avoid them next time. I won't partake. The forbidden fruit won't tempt me. The siren's song won't have any affect. I know that it's bullshit. I'll give in. One way or another, I'll give in. I don't have the character strength to deny myself for too long. I'm carnal. Animalistic. I give into my lusts for the sweet nector of rebelliousness they drip. Then I find myself coated by the pits and residue of the fruit. Shocked, horrified, disgusted, angry, hurt, disappointed.
"WTF!?" I exclaim, "How did this happen again?" "FML."
I suppose we all feel this way about certain things. We spend lifetimes trying to overcome them. At 23, I'm just sick of them already. Can I please move on? Let myself move on?
The answer is no. My character flaws are built in with my good characteristics. We can only improve but never remove. We are stuck with blemishes that never truly fade.
Nietzsche was right. What sets us apart from the animals is guilt. That somehow, in our memory, unable to forget, our guilt helps shape us. Defines certain aspects of ourselves. For good or for bad, that's just how it is.
God help us all.... You're the only one who can fix us.
Then....
You pounce. You tear into it wantonly. Inhibitionless. It's beautiful. It's horrifying. It's enticing. You embrace it and smother it with adoration. It yeilds to you. You possess it and it gives itself freely. Every thought and twitch of physical exerition it gives way. Pure bliss. Sexual, carnal, satisfying bliss.
The moment passes. You become conscious again. Aware. Then it sets in. You stand back in shock. Disgusting. You are disgusting. Vile. Weak. Helpless. There's no way that just happened. But it did.
Whimper... Denial....
Never again. You'll turn your back on it next time. You won't give in. You hide it. Bury it. Lie to yourself. No one knows, and the ones who do don't care. You're safe. Ashamed. Hurt. You're fine.
Deep down you know.....
It'll happen again. It always does. It's hidden in the back of your mind. Hanging there. Waiting. Singing it's siren song softly. Unaware. You sail quietly back into it's waters. Playing cat and mouse with disappointment.
This is how I feel when it comes to flaws. I consistantly indulge in things I know are bad for me. Debates. Disappointment. Dating. Lies. Gluttony. Jealousy. Drama. Sins.
I can't get away. I try to lie to myself. Somehow I'll avoid them next time. I won't partake. The forbidden fruit won't tempt me. The siren's song won't have any affect. I know that it's bullshit. I'll give in. One way or another, I'll give in. I don't have the character strength to deny myself for too long. I'm carnal. Animalistic. I give into my lusts for the sweet nector of rebelliousness they drip. Then I find myself coated by the pits and residue of the fruit. Shocked, horrified, disgusted, angry, hurt, disappointed.
"WTF!?" I exclaim, "How did this happen again?" "FML."
I suppose we all feel this way about certain things. We spend lifetimes trying to overcome them. At 23, I'm just sick of them already. Can I please move on? Let myself move on?
The answer is no. My character flaws are built in with my good characteristics. We can only improve but never remove. We are stuck with blemishes that never truly fade.
Nietzsche was right. What sets us apart from the animals is guilt. That somehow, in our memory, unable to forget, our guilt helps shape us. Defines certain aspects of ourselves. For good or for bad, that's just how it is.
God help us all.... You're the only one who can fix us.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Christmas Eve
Michael Caine can say it much better than I can. Merry Christmas to everyone. Thank you for being in my life!
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Awareness
I want to be an inanimate object. I wish that had been my existence. My little tally market in the chasm of time.
I wish I could have been Da Vinci's canvas, Ben Franklin's glasses, Davy Crockett's powder rifle, Aristotle's quill, or Shakespeare's stage. Hell, I could even settle for Elvis' toilet.
It pains me to know that such random objects hold more value in existence than I do. Without them, who knows what the world would be like today. At 23 years old, what have I done? What am I going to do? Probably nothing. The odds are, I, won't be of significance. Just like most individuals who've come and gone from existence. There are a few sprinkled out across history that have made their marks and with the help of a few objects, have changed time. Maybe, I could have been one of those objects. I wish I was.
One could argue, that there are just as many objects as individuals whose existence has come and gone without any real worth. Well...... the beauty about being an object is, at least you aren't aware of it.
What I wouldn't give, to just not be aware for a few moments.
I wish I could have been Da Vinci's canvas, Ben Franklin's glasses, Davy Crockett's powder rifle, Aristotle's quill, or Shakespeare's stage. Hell, I could even settle for Elvis' toilet.
It pains me to know that such random objects hold more value in existence than I do. Without them, who knows what the world would be like today. At 23 years old, what have I done? What am I going to do? Probably nothing. The odds are, I, won't be of significance. Just like most individuals who've come and gone from existence. There are a few sprinkled out across history that have made their marks and with the help of a few objects, have changed time. Maybe, I could have been one of those objects. I wish I was.
One could argue, that there are just as many objects as individuals whose existence has come and gone without any real worth. Well...... the beauty about being an object is, at least you aren't aware of it.
What I wouldn't give, to just not be aware for a few moments.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
When I go down
You give me hope and hope it gives me life. You touch my heavy heart and when you do you make it light. As I exhale, I hear your voice and I answer you, though, I can hardly make a noise. From my lips, the words I choose say seem pathetic, but its a fallen man's praise. Because I love you. Oh God, I love you. - Relient K
I've been listen to alot of Relient K lately. It's amazing how spiritual their lyrics are and yet, it's put in a way that almost anyone can relate to.
I suppose what I relate to so well is the feeling that I'm constantly messing up. Lately, (and by lately I mean 4 years) I've felt like I'm just one big mess. I don't know exactly what I'm doing. I've said this often. I suppose this place is my outlet for those feelings. Relient K seems to speak to the inner turmoil my soul feels.
I am always trying to balance myself between being a little wreckless and human with being the spiritual kid my soul wants me to be. More often than not the latter gets surpressed. I used to be a very spiritual person but now I wonder if I lost it, or if I've tried so hard to fake not being it, I've taught myself how not to be.
Deep down, I believe in God and it amazes me how willingly and mercifuly forgiving he is. So I write this to him in hopes he might know the intentions of my heart:
Dear Heavenly Father,
It's Jason. Excuse me while I stutter through this but I feel you should know my gratitude. Thank you for being consistently there. I know I have often times doubted it, but those are only during harden heart times. I can't even lie to myself about it because i'm constantly reminded of what you have done for me and what you do for me.
I don't know why I'm doing what I'm doing. I couldn't tell you. I don't want to be this person and yet, I don't seem to have the strength to be the person I used to be. I'm sure I look foolish tripping over the same obstacle and skinning my knee over and over. I'm sure you knew I would do this, yet, you wish I could have learned the first time. I think you know better than I that maybe the scars that will develop from these trials will be a reminder for me throughout my life. Perhaps I can always look at my knees and remember that while I'm foolish, I eventually learn to overcome things. For now though, I seem to be stuck in the bleeding and painful stage. I have oftena sked for strenght and wisdom to overcome, but, I have ignored what help has already been given because I don't have teh strength to utilize it.
I am pathetic. I am helpless. I am short sighted. I am worldly. I am not what I would have myself be. I will be someday though. It might not be soon. I might have to make several more mistakes. I may have to hit rock bottom. I promise though, that eventually, I will be everything you see me. I will fulfill that potential.
Please continue to have faith in me. To watch with a frustrated but caring eye. I will rise and I know it'll only be with your help. Save me a bandaid, some anti bacterial, and a seat in your mansion. I will be scarred up and bruised but I will make it.
Sincerely Jason.
When I go down I lift my eyes to you. I won't look very far, cause you'll be there with open arms.
To lift me up again. - Relient K
I've been listen to alot of Relient K lately. It's amazing how spiritual their lyrics are and yet, it's put in a way that almost anyone can relate to.
I suppose what I relate to so well is the feeling that I'm constantly messing up. Lately, (and by lately I mean 4 years) I've felt like I'm just one big mess. I don't know exactly what I'm doing. I've said this often. I suppose this place is my outlet for those feelings. Relient K seems to speak to the inner turmoil my soul feels.
I am always trying to balance myself between being a little wreckless and human with being the spiritual kid my soul wants me to be. More often than not the latter gets surpressed. I used to be a very spiritual person but now I wonder if I lost it, or if I've tried so hard to fake not being it, I've taught myself how not to be.
Deep down, I believe in God and it amazes me how willingly and mercifuly forgiving he is. So I write this to him in hopes he might know the intentions of my heart:
Dear Heavenly Father,
It's Jason. Excuse me while I stutter through this but I feel you should know my gratitude. Thank you for being consistently there. I know I have often times doubted it, but those are only during harden heart times. I can't even lie to myself about it because i'm constantly reminded of what you have done for me and what you do for me.
I don't know why I'm doing what I'm doing. I couldn't tell you. I don't want to be this person and yet, I don't seem to have the strength to be the person I used to be. I'm sure I look foolish tripping over the same obstacle and skinning my knee over and over. I'm sure you knew I would do this, yet, you wish I could have learned the first time. I think you know better than I that maybe the scars that will develop from these trials will be a reminder for me throughout my life. Perhaps I can always look at my knees and remember that while I'm foolish, I eventually learn to overcome things. For now though, I seem to be stuck in the bleeding and painful stage. I have oftena sked for strenght and wisdom to overcome, but, I have ignored what help has already been given because I don't have teh strength to utilize it.
I am pathetic. I am helpless. I am short sighted. I am worldly. I am not what I would have myself be. I will be someday though. It might not be soon. I might have to make several more mistakes. I may have to hit rock bottom. I promise though, that eventually, I will be everything you see me. I will fulfill that potential.
Please continue to have faith in me. To watch with a frustrated but caring eye. I will rise and I know it'll only be with your help. Save me a bandaid, some anti bacterial, and a seat in your mansion. I will be scarred up and bruised but I will make it.
Sincerely Jason.
When I go down I lift my eyes to you. I won't look very far, cause you'll be there with open arms.
To lift me up again. - Relient K
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Election day!
This representative is one that will restore honor!
Don't you get tired of hearing that? Every election we see candidates throw trivial words around like they should be significant. Restoring honor? At what point in history was the golden age of honor? Did I miss it? How do you restore something that has been half-assed throughout history?
Thats not even the part that bugs me the most. It's that once they throw around these arbitrary words, we are supposed to vote for them because of it. Well they are going to restore honor, so obviously I'm going to ignore all their policies and vote for them anyways. What the hell is that? It's a cop out, and the worst part is that it works.
All parties do it. All candidates do it. I'm not pointing fingers at people but the system as a whole. I find it pathetic that rather than talk about whats wrong and how we are going to fix it. We'd rather yell out virtuous words while smearing the person across the aisle.
So this Election day pay close attention to all the candidates yelling valor, honor, honesty, truth, change, and all other sorts of words while sinning against every one of them.
Don't you get tired of hearing that? Every election we see candidates throw trivial words around like they should be significant. Restoring honor? At what point in history was the golden age of honor? Did I miss it? How do you restore something that has been half-assed throughout history?
Thats not even the part that bugs me the most. It's that once they throw around these arbitrary words, we are supposed to vote for them because of it. Well they are going to restore honor, so obviously I'm going to ignore all their policies and vote for them anyways. What the hell is that? It's a cop out, and the worst part is that it works.
All parties do it. All candidates do it. I'm not pointing fingers at people but the system as a whole. I find it pathetic that rather than talk about whats wrong and how we are going to fix it. We'd rather yell out virtuous words while smearing the person across the aisle.
So this Election day pay close attention to all the candidates yelling valor, honor, honesty, truth, change, and all other sorts of words while sinning against every one of them.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Screw Halloween
I hate parties. Let me define parties. The large gathering of people that are around the same age as you and usually are centered around lack luster occasions. The ones where everyone puts on store bought smile and small talk is made amongst the peers that you know best within the mass of people. Hate em. Nothing could ever feel so fake to me. No I don't want to meet anyone new in such an environment. No I don't want to pretend to either.
I'm just not the type of person who likes that kind of thing. I get mildly annoyed that having such a "sour" attitude is considered a bad characteristic. Not like I can help it. I will never be comfortable in such a situation. I will never be able to cut loose and be myself. I'm not even going to apologize for it anymore.
I love family gatherings, I love Monday Night Football, I love hanging with my boys, I love chilling with a small group of people.
Most of all I love sitting at home in my room where I don't have to feel self conscious. Where I don't have to be smart, be attractive, be funny, be happy. Where I can look like shit and feel like shit and be okay with it.
Screw Halloween. Screw these lack luster holidays which have lost their sense of wonder before I was ever really able to appreciate them. Screw married kids at my age when I can't have it. Screw professors who can wipe out all my confidence without a second thought about it. Screw having no direction. Screw success.
Give me time to just be me for a while, please?
I'm just not the type of person who likes that kind of thing. I get mildly annoyed that having such a "sour" attitude is considered a bad characteristic. Not like I can help it. I will never be comfortable in such a situation. I will never be able to cut loose and be myself. I'm not even going to apologize for it anymore.
I love family gatherings, I love Monday Night Football, I love hanging with my boys, I love chilling with a small group of people.
Most of all I love sitting at home in my room where I don't have to feel self conscious. Where I don't have to be smart, be attractive, be funny, be happy. Where I can look like shit and feel like shit and be okay with it.
Screw Halloween. Screw these lack luster holidays which have lost their sense of wonder before I was ever really able to appreciate them. Screw married kids at my age when I can't have it. Screw professors who can wipe out all my confidence without a second thought about it. Screw having no direction. Screw success.
Give me time to just be me for a while, please?
Friday, October 15, 2010
Saturday, October 2, 2010
The Race
THE RACE- D.H. Groberg
Whenever I start to hang my head in front of failure's face,
my downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
A children's race, young boys, young men; how I remember well,
excitement sure, but also fear, it wasn't hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope, each thought to win that race
or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
Their parents watched from off the side, each cheering for their son,
and each boy hoped to show his folks that he would be the one.
The whistle blew and off they flew, like chariots of fire,
to win, to be the hero there, was each young boy's desire.
One boy in particular, whose dad was in the crowd,
was running in the lead and thought "My dad will be so proud."
But as he speeded down the field and crossed a shallow dip,
the little boy who thought he'd win, lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself, his arms flew everyplace,
and midst the laughter of the crowd he fell flat on his face.
As he fell, his hope fell too; he couldn't win it now.
Humiliated, he just wished to disappear somehow.
But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face,
which to the boy so clearly said, "Get up and win that race!"
He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit that's all,
and ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
his mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again.
He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace.
"I'm hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn't try to race."
But through the laughing crowd he searched and found his father's face
with a steady look that said again, "Get up and win that race!"
So he jumped up to try again, ten yards behind the last.
"If I'm to gain those yards," he thought, "I've got to run real fast!"
Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight, then ten...
but trying hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.
Defeat! He lay there silently. A tear dropped from his eye.
"There's no sense running anymore! Three strikes I'm out! Why try?
I've lost, so what's the use?" he thought. "I'll live with my disgrace."
But then he thought about his dad, who soon he'd have to face.
"Get up," an echo sounded low, "you haven't lost at all,
for all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
Get up!" the echo urged him on, "Get up and take your place!
You were not meant for failure here! Get up and win that race!"
So, up he rose to run once more, refusing to forfeit,
and he resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn't quit.
So far behind the others now, the most he'd ever been,
still he gave it all he had and ran like he could win.
Three times he'd fallen stumbling, three times he rose again.
Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.
They cheered another boy who crossed the line and won first place,
head high and proud and happy -- no falling, no disgrace.
But, when the fallen youngster crossed the line, in last place,
the crowd gave him a greater cheer for finishing the race.
And even though he came in last with head bowed low, unproud,
you would have thought he'd won the race, to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad he sadly said, "I didn't do so well."
"To me, you won," his father said. "You rose each time you fell."
And now when things seem dark and bleak and difficult to face,
the memory of that little boy helps me in my own race.
For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all.
And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
And when depression and despair shout loudly in my face,
another voice within me says, "Get up and win that race!"
The race sucks but I'll be damned if I don't cross that line eventually.
Whenever I start to hang my head in front of failure's face,
my downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
A children's race, young boys, young men; how I remember well,
excitement sure, but also fear, it wasn't hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope, each thought to win that race
or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
Their parents watched from off the side, each cheering for their son,
and each boy hoped to show his folks that he would be the one.
The whistle blew and off they flew, like chariots of fire,
to win, to be the hero there, was each young boy's desire.
One boy in particular, whose dad was in the crowd,
was running in the lead and thought "My dad will be so proud."
But as he speeded down the field and crossed a shallow dip,
the little boy who thought he'd win, lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself, his arms flew everyplace,
and midst the laughter of the crowd he fell flat on his face.
As he fell, his hope fell too; he couldn't win it now.
Humiliated, he just wished to disappear somehow.
But as he fell his dad stood up and showed his anxious face,
which to the boy so clearly said, "Get up and win that race!"
He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit that's all,
and ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
his mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again.
He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace.
"I'm hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn't try to race."
But through the laughing crowd he searched and found his father's face
with a steady look that said again, "Get up and win that race!"
So he jumped up to try again, ten yards behind the last.
"If I'm to gain those yards," he thought, "I've got to run real fast!"
Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight, then ten...
but trying hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.
Defeat! He lay there silently. A tear dropped from his eye.
"There's no sense running anymore! Three strikes I'm out! Why try?
I've lost, so what's the use?" he thought. "I'll live with my disgrace."
But then he thought about his dad, who soon he'd have to face.
"Get up," an echo sounded low, "you haven't lost at all,
for all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
Get up!" the echo urged him on, "Get up and take your place!
You were not meant for failure here! Get up and win that race!"
So, up he rose to run once more, refusing to forfeit,
and he resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn't quit.
So far behind the others now, the most he'd ever been,
still he gave it all he had and ran like he could win.
Three times he'd fallen stumbling, three times he rose again.
Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.
They cheered another boy who crossed the line and won first place,
head high and proud and happy -- no falling, no disgrace.
But, when the fallen youngster crossed the line, in last place,
the crowd gave him a greater cheer for finishing the race.
And even though he came in last with head bowed low, unproud,
you would have thought he'd won the race, to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad he sadly said, "I didn't do so well."
"To me, you won," his father said. "You rose each time you fell."
And now when things seem dark and bleak and difficult to face,
the memory of that little boy helps me in my own race.
For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all.
And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
And when depression and despair shout loudly in my face,
another voice within me says, "Get up and win that race!"
The race sucks but I'll be damned if I don't cross that line eventually.
Monday, September 20, 2010
The List (Guys)
This seems to be my thing lately, stealing ideas for posts from my friends. This particular one is from my lovely friend Cat. She made a list of her favorite guys. I too will follow suite. The problem is I have a long list depending on the criteria. Actors, musicians, real life figures, men I'd go gay for, it's rediculous really.
So here is my criteria, Guys who have shaped who I am. There is no particular order, we'll just say they all are at the same level.
- Chris Carrabba
Chris, Chris is amazing. My 8th grade year and the following summer before High School introduced me to a musical genre that has since changed my life. I stumbled across a band known as Further Seems Forever and there fell in love with the lead singer. This was Chris. He stole my heart again soon after when he created Dashboard Confessional and put out perhaps the best album of music I will ever hear, Swiss Army Romance. Dashboard defined by highschool life, it got me through the worst of times and the best of times. Had I known then that a decade later I would shake his hand and meet him in person, I surely would have spent the next 10 years without sleep. The anticipation would have been the death of me. Shaking his hand was... can't even describe it. Oh Chris, Thank you. (If you haven't heard him live and acoustic, you are truly missing out. Also, he's freakin hot as hell.)
-Benjamin "Hawkeye" Pierce (Alan Alda), M*A*S*H
I can't remember when I first started watching MASH. I do remember though, that I was young enough to think I had stumbled upon something inappropriate and adult. I remember feeling ashamed the first time my mother caught me watching, only to feel overjoyed when she told me she liked it and was fine with me watching it. That's all the urging I needed. It used to run during the morning from 10-11 am. I'd watch it all summer and then during the school year when I was sick enough to stay home. Hawkeye became my idol. He was everything I wanted to be. He was smart, skilled, laidback, sensative, a ladies man, a drunk, sarcastic, witty, caring, and funny as hell. I really think the reason I turned out to be such a sarcastic smartass was because I wanted to be like Hawkeye. In one episode they call him a pistol because he always had a comeback. I too wanted to be a pistol. I've slowly collected most of the season and have seen every episode a million times. I love it. (The Movie sucks ballllls though. Seriously, Donald Sutherland, seriously!?) (When I first got called to Iowa, the first think I did was look up where Ottumawa was because that's where Radar is from.)
-John Stockton and Karl Malone
So here is my criteria, Guys who have shaped who I am. There is no particular order, we'll just say they all are at the same level.
- Chris Carrabba
Chris, Chris is amazing. My 8th grade year and the following summer before High School introduced me to a musical genre that has since changed my life. I stumbled across a band known as Further Seems Forever and there fell in love with the lead singer. This was Chris. He stole my heart again soon after when he created Dashboard Confessional and put out perhaps the best album of music I will ever hear, Swiss Army Romance. Dashboard defined by highschool life, it got me through the worst of times and the best of times. Had I known then that a decade later I would shake his hand and meet him in person, I surely would have spent the next 10 years without sleep. The anticipation would have been the death of me. Shaking his hand was... can't even describe it. Oh Chris, Thank you. (If you haven't heard him live and acoustic, you are truly missing out. Also, he's freakin hot as hell.)
-Benjamin "Hawkeye" Pierce (Alan Alda), M*A*S*H
I can't remember when I first started watching MASH. I do remember though, that I was young enough to think I had stumbled upon something inappropriate and adult. I remember feeling ashamed the first time my mother caught me watching, only to feel overjoyed when she told me she liked it and was fine with me watching it. That's all the urging I needed. It used to run during the morning from 10-11 am. I'd watch it all summer and then during the school year when I was sick enough to stay home. Hawkeye became my idol. He was everything I wanted to be. He was smart, skilled, laidback, sensative, a ladies man, a drunk, sarcastic, witty, caring, and funny as hell. I really think the reason I turned out to be such a sarcastic smartass was because I wanted to be like Hawkeye. In one episode they call him a pistol because he always had a comeback. I too wanted to be a pistol. I've slowly collected most of the season and have seen every episode a million times. I love it. (The Movie sucks ballllls though. Seriously, Donald Sutherland, seriously!?) (When I first got called to Iowa, the first think I did was look up where Ottumawa was because that's where Radar is from.)
-John Stockton and Karl Malone
I can't really say much more than these two were my heroes during my childhood. I Loved them and was heartbroken when they retired without a ring. No two ball players were ever as good together as these. They were the ying and yang of basketball. I never knew how much I would miss them as I do now knowing I can't see them play anymore. There aren't players built like these two anywhere in the game. They played through everything, they didn't care about the money, they worked their ass off. Stockton to Malone, the perfect combination.
and for kicks and giggles
-Chad Michael Murray
Lucas Scott, One Tree Hill. The one guy I'd go gay for. He's dreamy, he's smart, he plays ball, he gets all the hot chicks (Sophia Bush baby). He's a stud. A Guilty pleasure. I mean look at those sultry brooding eyes. Hell yes. The only regret I have is that he got divorced from Mrs. Bush. Mock all you want.
and for kicks and giggles
-Chad Michael Murray
Lucas Scott, One Tree Hill. The one guy I'd go gay for. He's dreamy, he's smart, he plays ball, he gets all the hot chicks (Sophia Bush baby). He's a stud. A Guilty pleasure. I mean look at those sultry brooding eyes. Hell yes. The only regret I have is that he got divorced from Mrs. Bush. Mock all you want.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Evoke
Mary got me contemplating what word I would like to describe myself as in her recent blog entry. She wants to be synonymous with the word electric. I must admit that I couldnt' think of anything as snazzy and exciting that would reflect the type of individual I am. However, a word did keep coming to mind and I think that I could handle being synonymous with it. This isn't an adjective but rather a verb.
Jason = Evoking.
I would hope that would a legacy that I could carry on. A simple search on dictionary.com shows
"e·voke /ɪˈvoʊk/ Show Spelled[ih-vohk]
–verb (used with object), e·voked, e·vok·ing.
1. to call up or produce (memories, feelings, etc.): to evoke a memory.
2. to elicit or draw forth: His comment evoked protests from the shocked listeners.
3. to call up; cause to appear; summon: to evoke a spirit from the dead.
4. to produce or suggest through artistry and imagination a vivid impression of reality: a short passage that manages to evoke the smells, colors, sounds, and shapes of that metropolis."
I would like to be remembered as an individual who evoked a response. I want people to feel something when I am around. Whether it is positive or negative it doesn't matter. As long as it helps the discover something about themself or to remember something about themself. I would hope that I have already done this in my life time and that I have had an impact in peoples lives.
I Jason want to be evocative.
Jason = Evoking.
I would hope that would a legacy that I could carry on. A simple search on dictionary.com shows
"e·voke /ɪˈvoʊk/ Show Spelled[ih-vohk]
–verb (used with object), e·voked, e·vok·ing.
1. to call up or produce (memories, feelings, etc.): to evoke a memory.
2. to elicit or draw forth: His comment evoked protests from the shocked listeners.
3. to call up; cause to appear; summon: to evoke a spirit from the dead.
4. to produce or suggest through artistry and imagination a vivid impression of reality: a short passage that manages to evoke the smells, colors, sounds, and shapes of that metropolis."
I would like to be remembered as an individual who evoked a response. I want people to feel something when I am around. Whether it is positive or negative it doesn't matter. As long as it helps the discover something about themself or to remember something about themself. I would hope that I have already done this in my life time and that I have had an impact in peoples lives.
I Jason want to be evocative.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Airport Parkinglots
As far as I can remember I have always been a spiritual person. I couldn't tell you whether it was because of my upbringing or that it was coded into my DNA. I never had a reason to question God, never had a problem with firmly rooting myself in the soil of the gospel. I was raised LDS. (Keep your judgements to yourself.) I am still LDS. Something has changed though.
I couldn't tell you what, but its different now. I can picture my 10 year old self in Sunday School, blurting out all the answers. It all came so easy to me. I just knew the stories, knew the lessons, knew what was asked of me. Like any child who doesn't feel challenged, I slacked off. I goofed off in classes, goofed off in primary, it was all easy. Almost too easy.
Fast forward to age 15. It got complicated. My father, sick from his cancer treatments that had happened over 20 years previous, was ill. Very ill. I watched him struggle. I watched him go in and out of the hospital for months and years. So many doctor visits, blood clots, late night emergencies, coming home from highschool to an empty house. My family never lost faith. My father never complained. I never doubted my religion. I never sluffed a seminary class. Never missed church as long as it was in my power. It was difficult, complicated, but nothing had changed.
At 18 and graduated from highschool I began to watch my best friends prepare for missions. I had always known this was sort of expected of me but I don't know if I ever had that deep burning desire to do it. 2 years felt like a long time. I never told anyone that though. With the encouragement of my parents, a certain girl whom I thought I was in love with, and the urges of my friends I too decided to embark on this adventure. Dreams of epic stories, successful, dangerous, heroic, they filled my head.
Little did I know.
2 1/2 months later I found myself flying home from the far off land of Iowa. I felt like a failure and yet, it had been the longest 2 1/2 months of my life. I just wanted to see my mother. To see my family. To lay in my bed. I held myself together as I walked through the SLC terminal. I kept it all together when I saw my mom standing there waiting. I made it to the parking lot and then, I saw the Maroon car. I lost it. I collapsed to the ground and cried. Just cried. Somewhere in those moments it all changed.
From the parking lot to now, 4 years later. I find myself so far away from everything I thought I would be at this age. I feel every fiber of my personality has been stretched, broken, and tied back together. 4 years later I am still trying to find all my confidence, my faith, my hope, myself. I dunno if I'll ever find it again.....and that scares me.
I've watched those same friends return home from missions and get married. I've watched my best non LDS friend get baptized and wasn't able to be apart of it. I've watched that girl I was in love with struggle and find her way back again. I've watched my father strongly fight and even recover from an illness I would have given up over long ago. I've watched my little sister blossum into one of the brightest and most wonderful women I know I'll ever meet.
Where am I though? I am here, in my room, the room I grew up in, hiding. It's the only Iplace I really feel safe. Like I have control.
I can't say I don't believe in God, I do. I can't say I doubt my religion, I still believe. I can't find my way back. I'm not sure if I want to either. Would I cripple under eternal expectations again? Would my hope give out and I abandon my faith in the fear of failure? Would I survive it?
I'm 23 and I feel ancient. I feel worn. I feel tired. I feel like something so stupid shouldn't be such a massive roadblock. I feel like this is all bullshit. This isn't how it was supposed to go. This isn't, this shouldn't, this can't, but this is...
My name is Jason and my life was lost in an airport parking lot.
I couldn't tell you what, but its different now. I can picture my 10 year old self in Sunday School, blurting out all the answers. It all came so easy to me. I just knew the stories, knew the lessons, knew what was asked of me. Like any child who doesn't feel challenged, I slacked off. I goofed off in classes, goofed off in primary, it was all easy. Almost too easy.
Fast forward to age 15. It got complicated. My father, sick from his cancer treatments that had happened over 20 years previous, was ill. Very ill. I watched him struggle. I watched him go in and out of the hospital for months and years. So many doctor visits, blood clots, late night emergencies, coming home from highschool to an empty house. My family never lost faith. My father never complained. I never doubted my religion. I never sluffed a seminary class. Never missed church as long as it was in my power. It was difficult, complicated, but nothing had changed.
At 18 and graduated from highschool I began to watch my best friends prepare for missions. I had always known this was sort of expected of me but I don't know if I ever had that deep burning desire to do it. 2 years felt like a long time. I never told anyone that though. With the encouragement of my parents, a certain girl whom I thought I was in love with, and the urges of my friends I too decided to embark on this adventure. Dreams of epic stories, successful, dangerous, heroic, they filled my head.
Little did I know.
2 1/2 months later I found myself flying home from the far off land of Iowa. I felt like a failure and yet, it had been the longest 2 1/2 months of my life. I just wanted to see my mother. To see my family. To lay in my bed. I held myself together as I walked through the SLC terminal. I kept it all together when I saw my mom standing there waiting. I made it to the parking lot and then, I saw the Maroon car. I lost it. I collapsed to the ground and cried. Just cried. Somewhere in those moments it all changed.
From the parking lot to now, 4 years later. I find myself so far away from everything I thought I would be at this age. I feel every fiber of my personality has been stretched, broken, and tied back together. 4 years later I am still trying to find all my confidence, my faith, my hope, myself. I dunno if I'll ever find it again.....and that scares me.
I've watched those same friends return home from missions and get married. I've watched my best non LDS friend get baptized and wasn't able to be apart of it. I've watched that girl I was in love with struggle and find her way back again. I've watched my father strongly fight and even recover from an illness I would have given up over long ago. I've watched my little sister blossum into one of the brightest and most wonderful women I know I'll ever meet.
Where am I though? I am here, in my room, the room I grew up in, hiding. It's the only Iplace I really feel safe. Like I have control.
I can't say I don't believe in God, I do. I can't say I doubt my religion, I still believe. I can't find my way back. I'm not sure if I want to either. Would I cripple under eternal expectations again? Would my hope give out and I abandon my faith in the fear of failure? Would I survive it?
I'm 23 and I feel ancient. I feel worn. I feel tired. I feel like something so stupid shouldn't be such a massive roadblock. I feel like this is all bullshit. This isn't how it was supposed to go. This isn't, this shouldn't, this can't, but this is...
My name is Jason and my life was lost in an airport parking lot.
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