I'm tired. In part because I am in the midst of a marathon set of 12 straight days of working at least 5 hours a day. I'm also mentally tired, tired of trying to sort things out about my life, who I am, and all those other general annoyances that I've had to deal with over the last few weeks.
I'm tired of fighting, but I won't surrender. I'm tired of trying, but I won't give up. Obstinancy seems to have too much control over who I am.
Well, besides my cryptic messages, I have finally started my summer semester, to great fanfare. I've finished most of my homework for the week already. I do have to write some kind of an email about my competence in homeland security and my interest in bio-chemical warfare as well as work on an online accounting assignment. It doesn't seem too bad.
What I hate about accounting so far is the vocabulary. Technical business language and I don't get along too well. Actually, come to think of it, any technical language doesn't mesh well with me. In the midst of learning all of these languages, I have tried to embrace more communicative sides of things. Of course, this is ironic, because I am the most uncommunicative person ever, both on personal and professional levels.
Last night though was different. It was the first night in weeks that I have not been preoccupied with this problem, as I finally got to go out an actually do something aside from work. It's somewhat difficult living at home, because I just can't deal with anything with my family around. It's all a constant struggle of supression.
Cognitive dissonance and I are not good friends. I like being certain of things, and like every other scientist or historian, I also like to ignore unwelcome evidence that suggests there is very little personally about which I can be certain. Of course, part of my problem is that I am constantly trying to take a rational approach to purely emotional issues. In addition, my emotions are constantly at war with each other because of social impressions and the ever so constant cliche that demands that we follow our dreams and whatever.
The excitement of this week has slowed. Life seems to be returning to its normal routine, where I work in order to throw more money at my credit card, I take classes that in the end will do nothing for me, and I work so that I can do it all again.
I must say however, that my French reinvigoration efforts have been VERY successful over the last few days. My present tense conjugations are almost perfect, and I've probably refreshed on at least 400-500 words and picked up about 50-60 more. My efforts on improving my Spanish vocabulary, especially my medical terminology in Spanish, as well as trying to get my German back to full second semester level will return as I get back on the French boat.
Well, c5a c'est tout pour maintenant. Je n'ai pas beaucoup de choses que faire cet nuit, en suite, peut-etre, je vais aller avec ma cousin et notre amie a une bar. Je peux faire mes devoirs de securite aussi. We'll see.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Monday, May 25, 2009
I guess we'll call it stabilization
I'm not sure how to describe it right now. I'm sort of kind of meh on a lot of these issues clouding my mind in recent days. Part of it certainly is allowing my mind...well, more like my heart...wander places it doesn't belong. Work tends to bring that out of me, because I have these long periods where no one will drive by and I have to find a way to pass the time intellectually (my sewing is not an intellectual activity, unfortunately).
Sometimes, I imagine how great it could be to be in that fairy tale lifestyle where you're in love and everything is bright and shiny, but in reality, I know that doesn't exist, and furthermore, I know that I do not have the emotional maturity necessary to be in any kind of a relationship. I'm not some kind of hormone-driven teenager immature, but the problem that I have had (and always have had) is that I bottle all of my emotions up because when they come out, I get fucked somehow. Basically, emotional expression at any time has come back to bite me in the ass. One big reason is that I an intrinsically intensely emotional. I don't have these slight feelings that most people have, when they say "I'm kind of happy". I'm either elated or depressed, normally. I know I'm not bipolar because I spend a lot of time emotionally flatlined, and my swings tend not to be dramatic at all.
My intentions romantically have always worked the same way as well. I've had these ridiculous and extreme crushes and I don't really know the object of those affections at all. That's been part of my problem in the last couple of weeks. I've actually never acted on those kinds of feelings before, and I tried it for the first time (why?) and was basically ignored, so whatever.
I guess I have not developed yet the ability to control those aspects of who I am, so it is much easier simply to supress them. I cloud them over with these obscure visions of nationality (a real Irishman would never think like this) compounded with ancestral guilt (you're shaming thousands of years of hard working, bleeding, and sacrificing Irishmen), or with this grandiose vision of destiny where I'm supposed to do something great (i.e. make it in the history books to be remembered and analyzed for thousands of years great) and I can't let me feelings or emotions get in the way. The third option is simply to reinforce that I'm not worth loving in any sense of the word--physical, emotional, commitment-oriented, you name it. The negative tapes really do the job. When I play those ones, along with all the other "Ray, you're an abject failure" tapes, it does a pretty good job of shutting down those emotional and romantic intentions.
Well, several good things:
School starts tomorrow. Brain can focus on something.
I'm starting language training again, first I'm going to review and enhance my French, then follow it up with German and Gaelic again. I still remember a lot of German vokab, but not so much structure. Somewhat the opposite in Gaelic. I can remember some sentences, like "Is mise Ray [pronounced "iss misha Ray"] or Ta (accent on a) leabhar anseo {there is a book there}," but not a lot of words or structures.
I should soon be getting money?
Sometimes, I imagine how great it could be to be in that fairy tale lifestyle where you're in love and everything is bright and shiny, but in reality, I know that doesn't exist, and furthermore, I know that I do not have the emotional maturity necessary to be in any kind of a relationship. I'm not some kind of hormone-driven teenager immature, but the problem that I have had (and always have had) is that I bottle all of my emotions up because when they come out, I get fucked somehow. Basically, emotional expression at any time has come back to bite me in the ass. One big reason is that I an intrinsically intensely emotional. I don't have these slight feelings that most people have, when they say "I'm kind of happy". I'm either elated or depressed, normally. I know I'm not bipolar because I spend a lot of time emotionally flatlined, and my swings tend not to be dramatic at all.
My intentions romantically have always worked the same way as well. I've had these ridiculous and extreme crushes and I don't really know the object of those affections at all. That's been part of my problem in the last couple of weeks. I've actually never acted on those kinds of feelings before, and I tried it for the first time (why?) and was basically ignored, so whatever.
I guess I have not developed yet the ability to control those aspects of who I am, so it is much easier simply to supress them. I cloud them over with these obscure visions of nationality (a real Irishman would never think like this) compounded with ancestral guilt (you're shaming thousands of years of hard working, bleeding, and sacrificing Irishmen), or with this grandiose vision of destiny where I'm supposed to do something great (i.e. make it in the history books to be remembered and analyzed for thousands of years great) and I can't let me feelings or emotions get in the way. The third option is simply to reinforce that I'm not worth loving in any sense of the word--physical, emotional, commitment-oriented, you name it. The negative tapes really do the job. When I play those ones, along with all the other "Ray, you're an abject failure" tapes, it does a pretty good job of shutting down those emotional and romantic intentions.
Well, several good things:
School starts tomorrow. Brain can focus on something.
I'm starting language training again, first I'm going to review and enhance my French, then follow it up with German and Gaelic again. I still remember a lot of German vokab, but not so much structure. Somewhat the opposite in Gaelic. I can remember some sentences, like "Is mise Ray [pronounced "iss misha Ray"] or Ta (accent on a) leabhar anseo {there is a book there}," but not a lot of words or structures.
I should soon be getting money?
Friday, May 22, 2009
Pointless updating
Well, I've been away for a while because I made a post in my other blog and I've been doing a lot of private journaling on paper, due in part to the serousness of my situation.
I have come to the conclusion that at this time, it is in my best interests, as well as those of others, if I leave this issue aside as much as possible. Of course, I will continue my private journaling on the matter, but it is so precarious that it requires as much delicacy as possible. Without it, I am in serious danger of overexerting my personal boundaries, boundaries that I have found vital to my success.
In fact, much of the reason that I have been as successful as I have been professionally is because I am almost devoid of personality when I am in public.
---much later edit----
So I mentioned private journaling, but that doesn't look so much like a viable option. Here's the thing, the whole deep dark evil thing I'm dealing with (see? it's so bad I have to end my clause with a preposition, contrary to my normal grammarical flavorings) made a huge mistake today. HUGE. It tried to expose itself.
I consider myself trifectally torn among my emotional, biological, and mental functions. Obviously, I like my mental ones and try to stifle the other two whenever possible, in part because they are natural allies (emotions being a base level of survival have strong biological components), and in part because together they might one day weaken my mind enough to do something that I would regret.
Today, they tried, and fortunately, the second that the moment was over, my mind re-established itself with total furor. Fortuantely, my natural inclination to do EXACTLY the opposite of what people recommend to me helped. That, interestngly, is both my greatest strength, because I have absolutely no social fears, but it is also my greatest weakness, because my enemies could corner me n mazes of options where I select the opposite of what they present, thus creating a predictable dilemma.
It was fuckin amazing to have my mind back. Instead of being all oogly over my feelings, I ripped every last page out of my journal I have been writing in, and shredded every last page so that there is no resemblance of it left. I deactivated personally crippling communications relays. I initiated a major countdown, and reestablished control for the first time in weeks. There isn't this brash indecision, but a firm conviction of what must be done to assure my successes remain.
The iron rod is back.
I have come to the conclusion that at this time, it is in my best interests, as well as those of others, if I leave this issue aside as much as possible. Of course, I will continue my private journaling on the matter, but it is so precarious that it requires as much delicacy as possible. Without it, I am in serious danger of overexerting my personal boundaries, boundaries that I have found vital to my success.
In fact, much of the reason that I have been as successful as I have been professionally is because I am almost devoid of personality when I am in public.
---much later edit----
So I mentioned private journaling, but that doesn't look so much like a viable option. Here's the thing, the whole deep dark evil thing I'm dealing with (see? it's so bad I have to end my clause with a preposition, contrary to my normal grammarical flavorings) made a huge mistake today. HUGE. It tried to expose itself.
I consider myself trifectally torn among my emotional, biological, and mental functions. Obviously, I like my mental ones and try to stifle the other two whenever possible, in part because they are natural allies (emotions being a base level of survival have strong biological components), and in part because together they might one day weaken my mind enough to do something that I would regret.
Today, they tried, and fortunately, the second that the moment was over, my mind re-established itself with total furor. Fortuantely, my natural inclination to do EXACTLY the opposite of what people recommend to me helped. That, interestngly, is both my greatest strength, because I have absolutely no social fears, but it is also my greatest weakness, because my enemies could corner me n mazes of options where I select the opposite of what they present, thus creating a predictable dilemma.
It was fuckin amazing to have my mind back. Instead of being all oogly over my feelings, I ripped every last page out of my journal I have been writing in, and shredded every last page so that there is no resemblance of it left. I deactivated personally crippling communications relays. I initiated a major countdown, and reestablished control for the first time in weeks. There isn't this brash indecision, but a firm conviction of what must be done to assure my successes remain.
The iron rod is back.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Moving on
I finished my lab job completely last night. It felt good, in one of those weird sort of ways. In any case, that's one less weight over my head. I have a couple more to toss off, but for right now, things look a-okay. The nice thing about my new job is that I don't have any take-home work.
In my sort of goodbye email, I made it sound like I was really sad to leave, though I should make it clear that I wrote that email when I was living in opposite land.
I'm relieved that for now I work a job that doesn't involve consuming parts of my life like my last one did. I do wish I could have a supplemental job that had flexible hours, considering how chaotic my work schedule is right now, but since I start classes soon, that should not be too much of a problem.
I should mention that the mouse on this computer is a piece of shit. You have to click like thirty times to get it to respond, and after you finish the thirty clicks, it will go back and execute all thirty of them.
I'm starting to execute my back-up programs, which chiefly involve languages or, despite my greater inclination not to do this, nursing. The plain fact is that I need money, and I can't live on my own when I make 8.02 an hour. Nursing isn't glamorous, or even frankly what I want to do, but there is such a high demand for nurses and I can live pretty comfortably on 25 dollars an hour plus health insurance, that I think that I might later be able to do what I want, but not right away. That's part of the reason I plan on taking A&P and microbiology.
I think the number one sign of getting older is admitting that there just aren't things that you can do, no matter how much you may want to do so. Sometimes, it's fear of social reprisal that holds us back. Other times, it's financial obligations that hold us down, and even frequently, it's our friends and family that remind us of those two fatal words: "you can't".
In my sort of goodbye email, I made it sound like I was really sad to leave, though I should make it clear that I wrote that email when I was living in opposite land.
I'm relieved that for now I work a job that doesn't involve consuming parts of my life like my last one did. I do wish I could have a supplemental job that had flexible hours, considering how chaotic my work schedule is right now, but since I start classes soon, that should not be too much of a problem.
I should mention that the mouse on this computer is a piece of shit. You have to click like thirty times to get it to respond, and after you finish the thirty clicks, it will go back and execute all thirty of them.
I'm starting to execute my back-up programs, which chiefly involve languages or, despite my greater inclination not to do this, nursing. The plain fact is that I need money, and I can't live on my own when I make 8.02 an hour. Nursing isn't glamorous, or even frankly what I want to do, but there is such a high demand for nurses and I can live pretty comfortably on 25 dollars an hour plus health insurance, that I think that I might later be able to do what I want, but not right away. That's part of the reason I plan on taking A&P and microbiology.
I think the number one sign of getting older is admitting that there just aren't things that you can do, no matter how much you may want to do so. Sometimes, it's fear of social reprisal that holds us back. Other times, it's financial obligations that hold us down, and even frequently, it's our friends and family that remind us of those two fatal words: "you can't".
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Refocusing is soon possible...
Fortunately, and slightly unfortunately, my first class starts on Tuesday. I actually didn't really know that it did...I find it hard to believe that thermodynamics can be taught in one month, but I suppose I've already technically done a lot of it when I took chemical thermodynamics.
I also have to start scrounging money to pay for tuition, which is about 1200 at UCCS (plus 200 for the damn book. Fuckola!), 950 at PPCC (plus 200 for books there, fuckola times 2), for a grand total of about 2600. That's totally ridiculous, I think, but I suppose that it could be worse. I may have to hurt myself finanically for a while, because I don't start getting paid until June--and I obviously don't make a whole lot of money. Perhaps I should hit a couple of my bonds or something like that. I don't want to have to put THAT much money on my credit cards without being able to pay them off really quickly, and I don't think that I yet qualify for an educational loan. Money sucks.
Fortunately, I survived my psychotic episode from a few days ago, as I seem to have re-established control over everything. The unfortuante thing is that the truth is just as disturbing to me now as it was before when I really wasn't willing to admit it. I've accepted that there are certain things that I cannot change, but that doesn't mean that those infallible truths can dictate my actions and my behaviors. I make my decisions, not biology, not fate, not the universe, not other people. Only I can be the rock in my life.
I find it a little upsetting that now is the time for me to start getting some kind of sickness--yesterday I had my characteristic sore throat, and today I've had a cough and a lot of congestion. I don't know for sure yet if its my allergies attacking me or if I caught something at the hospital last week. I find it hard to believe it's the latter because I worked Thursday night and was hit when I woke up Friday morning. Plus, I didn't have my typical bout of bitchiness when I get sick.
So the future does look bright, but, unfortuantely, there will always be the monkey to which I have alluded many times on my many blogs. I have to accept that the monkey is part of who I am, but the monkey doesn't have the power to dictate anything to me. ANYTHING. I also am going to have to accept that I'm not going to have much moeny for a while. Right now, that's slightly more disturbing...
I guess I'll tell you all how thermodynamics goes soon!
I also have to start scrounging money to pay for tuition, which is about 1200 at UCCS (plus 200 for the damn book. Fuckola!), 950 at PPCC (plus 200 for books there, fuckola times 2), for a grand total of about 2600. That's totally ridiculous, I think, but I suppose that it could be worse. I may have to hurt myself finanically for a while, because I don't start getting paid until June--and I obviously don't make a whole lot of money. Perhaps I should hit a couple of my bonds or something like that. I don't want to have to put THAT much money on my credit cards without being able to pay them off really quickly, and I don't think that I yet qualify for an educational loan. Money sucks.
Fortunately, I survived my psychotic episode from a few days ago, as I seem to have re-established control over everything. The unfortuante thing is that the truth is just as disturbing to me now as it was before when I really wasn't willing to admit it. I've accepted that there are certain things that I cannot change, but that doesn't mean that those infallible truths can dictate my actions and my behaviors. I make my decisions, not biology, not fate, not the universe, not other people. Only I can be the rock in my life.
I find it a little upsetting that now is the time for me to start getting some kind of sickness--yesterday I had my characteristic sore throat, and today I've had a cough and a lot of congestion. I don't know for sure yet if its my allergies attacking me or if I caught something at the hospital last week. I find it hard to believe it's the latter because I worked Thursday night and was hit when I woke up Friday morning. Plus, I didn't have my typical bout of bitchiness when I get sick.
So the future does look bright, but, unfortuantely, there will always be the monkey to which I have alluded many times on my many blogs. I have to accept that the monkey is part of who I am, but the monkey doesn't have the power to dictate anything to me. ANYTHING. I also am going to have to accept that I'm not going to have much moeny for a while. Right now, that's slightly more disturbing...
I guess I'll tell you all how thermodynamics goes soon!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Je ne sais pas pourquoi, mais maintenant, je veux retourner a mes langues. Depuis de terminer mes choses pour les graduaciones, je vais etudier mon franc5ais autre fois et aussi mon allemand.
I've also finalized my schedule for the next semester for a week or so. To save money, I'm only taking the following:
Astronomy-Stars and Galaxies
Engineering Thermodynamics
Basic Principles of Accounting
Medical Terminology
Calculus III
Fall right now looks like this:
Principles of Engineering
Advanced Medical Terminology
Russian I
TA-Ethics
I really would also like to add either Epidemiology and Fluid Mechanics, but I'm not sure my work schedule would fit with all of that...
I need to get back into the swing of things. I've allowed personal problems to dissuade me too much. Last night was my low, and now should be a period of respite and recovery with a profound renewal of a commitment to my academic and intellectual goals, rather than wallowing in the fear that the universe is going to get me. It can only hurt me if I let it, and if I go back to who I was before I had all of this time off to think and to do stupid things, then I should be able to recover.
Perhaps it's ironic that I am strongest when I am most vulnerable...but I guess that's my perversion of biological instinct to survive that kicks in. Instead of keeping physically alive, I keep emotional control and stability by allowing myself these blips so I can see how completely dangerous it is to allow my self the comfort of instability and to keep very much aware that part of being who I am is to stand on the edge of a precipice and wait to fall in.
I think things will be looking up soon.
I've also finalized my schedule for the next semester for a week or so. To save money, I'm only taking the following:
Astronomy-Stars and Galaxies
Engineering Thermodynamics
Basic Principles of Accounting
Medical Terminology
Calculus III
Fall right now looks like this:
Principles of Engineering
Advanced Medical Terminology
Russian I
TA-Ethics
I really would also like to add either Epidemiology and Fluid Mechanics, but I'm not sure my work schedule would fit with all of that...
I need to get back into the swing of things. I've allowed personal problems to dissuade me too much. Last night was my low, and now should be a period of respite and recovery with a profound renewal of a commitment to my academic and intellectual goals, rather than wallowing in the fear that the universe is going to get me. It can only hurt me if I let it, and if I go back to who I was before I had all of this time off to think and to do stupid things, then I should be able to recover.
Perhaps it's ironic that I am strongest when I am most vulnerable...but I guess that's my perversion of biological instinct to survive that kicks in. Instead of keeping physically alive, I keep emotional control and stability by allowing myself these blips so I can see how completely dangerous it is to allow my self the comfort of instability and to keep very much aware that part of being who I am is to stand on the edge of a precipice and wait to fall in.
I think things will be looking up soon.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Sitting, thinking, drinking my way in a maze of confusion, paranormal circumstances, and the insane belief that the universe might conspire to be my comfort, I live on.
I'm so tired of fighting, but the only thing that keeps me holding on is my refusal to surrender to anything.
I know it sounds dark and depressing (maybe that's the stage of grief I'm on right now..who knows?), but I think more frequently that three has been nothing in this life worth my living. I know, I sound like a spoiled ass, who knows nothing of the suffering of other people. Trust me, I would rather have their suffering than mine. I would rather fear for my physical life every minute of the day, wondering if there will be food to eat tomorrow than go through this torture.Material suffering can always be alleviated, mental/emotional...not so much.
If, given the choice between living my life and having never existed, I would likely choose the latter. I don't want to die, per se, because that would hurt my family, and the only reason some days I even get up is to avoid causing them pain. But they can't feel pain if they never knew of my existence.
I get that the universe never wants me to be happy. I get that it dangles carrots in front of my face to drag me in its sick game. If I stop going for the carrots, it will torture me in other ways, it will tear my mind. I get that everytime I get a glimmer of hope, it dashes those expectations against the rocks, and that like Tantalus, when I reach the nourishment of water or food, it snatches away.
There is no respite.
I'm so tired of fighting, but the only thing that keeps me holding on is my refusal to surrender to anything.
I know it sounds dark and depressing (maybe that's the stage of grief I'm on right now..who knows?), but I think more frequently that three has been nothing in this life worth my living. I know, I sound like a spoiled ass, who knows nothing of the suffering of other people. Trust me, I would rather have their suffering than mine. I would rather fear for my physical life every minute of the day, wondering if there will be food to eat tomorrow than go through this torture.Material suffering can always be alleviated, mental/emotional...not so much.
If, given the choice between living my life and having never existed, I would likely choose the latter. I don't want to die, per se, because that would hurt my family, and the only reason some days I even get up is to avoid causing them pain. But they can't feel pain if they never knew of my existence.
I get that the universe never wants me to be happy. I get that it dangles carrots in front of my face to drag me in its sick game. If I stop going for the carrots, it will torture me in other ways, it will tear my mind. I get that everytime I get a glimmer of hope, it dashes those expectations against the rocks, and that like Tantalus, when I reach the nourishment of water or food, it snatches away.
There is no respite.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Perspective would be nice
That was the conclusion I came to last night shortly after finishing my post. In the grand scale of the universe, this is so trivial, so banal, so stupid, that it isn't worth all of the pain and agony through which I have put myself. There are too many more important things to consider, too many significant acts of kindness to alleviate the suffering to do. Despite all of my other techniques for dealing with my stress and pain, doing something good has always been the most helpful.
In all frankness though, I need something that Maricor has written many times before: 'Sometimes a retreat is a good tactic before you advance'. I play war games enough to know that works--[currently, my English empire has had to retreat several times out of Palestine, thanks to constantly building Italian forces. My goal is to lure the majority of their armies into Palestine, and then send three cavalry divisions to surround their escape routes and then crush them in a head-on battle...once the Italians are gone, my goal for European empire should be pretty easy and even excommunication won't be able to stop me!].
But with respect to the problems in my life, I could certainly use a few steps backwards to re-evaluate my positions. I've always been so used to moving ahead that I lose sight of the other forks in the road. The last few years ahve developed in me such an icy determination to accomplish; to have sheets of paper with my name on them saying that Raymond Schultz has done such and such an accomplishment, that I have completely lost sight on the journey itself.
These problems are systemic. I haven't determined yet whether they are tied to this singular issue, or whether it is the result of a lifetime of social issues. Burying the pain in success has always been my strategy, but my failures in getting into a secure graduate school have been traumatizing.
I've led myself to the point that if I don't do something so amazing that it's worth the pages of history, then my life has been a waste. It's not because I wanted to make some grand contribution, but because I wanted to show all of the bastards---including myself---that I have ever known that they were wrong to ever mess with me.
I will admit my paranoia, I create enemies that don't exist so that I can imagine oppression and rise above it. I don't have a clue what real oppression is. I don't know what it is to have my life hanging on a thread, and only the power of fate or of God there to save me. I've never had bullets whiz past my head...the closest I've ever come to death was strep throat. That really doesn't provide perspective.
Retreat certainly is in order, and more than anything, what I need is isolation for a couple of days. I am off Sunday thru Tuesday next week, and I may take the opportunity to go camping some place.
More than anything, I need to realize that no matter what, I'm no different than I was before.
In all frankness though, I need something that Maricor has written many times before: 'Sometimes a retreat is a good tactic before you advance'. I play war games enough to know that works--[currently, my English empire has had to retreat several times out of Palestine, thanks to constantly building Italian forces. My goal is to lure the majority of their armies into Palestine, and then send three cavalry divisions to surround their escape routes and then crush them in a head-on battle...once the Italians are gone, my goal for European empire should be pretty easy and even excommunication won't be able to stop me!].
But with respect to the problems in my life, I could certainly use a few steps backwards to re-evaluate my positions. I've always been so used to moving ahead that I lose sight of the other forks in the road. The last few years ahve developed in me such an icy determination to accomplish; to have sheets of paper with my name on them saying that Raymond Schultz has done such and such an accomplishment, that I have completely lost sight on the journey itself.
These problems are systemic. I haven't determined yet whether they are tied to this singular issue, or whether it is the result of a lifetime of social issues. Burying the pain in success has always been my strategy, but my failures in getting into a secure graduate school have been traumatizing.
I've led myself to the point that if I don't do something so amazing that it's worth the pages of history, then my life has been a waste. It's not because I wanted to make some grand contribution, but because I wanted to show all of the bastards---including myself---that I have ever known that they were wrong to ever mess with me.
I will admit my paranoia, I create enemies that don't exist so that I can imagine oppression and rise above it. I don't have a clue what real oppression is. I don't know what it is to have my life hanging on a thread, and only the power of fate or of God there to save me. I've never had bullets whiz past my head...the closest I've ever come to death was strep throat. That really doesn't provide perspective.
Retreat certainly is in order, and more than anything, what I need is isolation for a couple of days. I am off Sunday thru Tuesday next week, and I may take the opportunity to go camping some place.
More than anything, I need to realize that no matter what, I'm no different than I was before.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
The plot thickens
Damn, I just don't know.
I mean, seriously, how much do people know about me? I seriously considered ending all of the pretense today, but it's not time. I have such a hard time, because I have the capacity to inflict such pain, such intense, emotional pain that it would call into question my humanity.
Who I am today is because of who I am not. I am not a person built around affirmations, but rather negations. Instead of going out and defining myself as "smart, emotionally strong", and whatever other adjective of which you can think, my life have alwasy been built around me saying "I'm not stupid. I'm not weak."
I can't be weak. I took that on a long time ago. The last time I ever cried was when my dad was diagnosed with MS. After that, I determined that I could never show emotions again, because I was supposed to be the citadel in which my family could find their strength. It's so fucking ridiculous, but it's true. In those months afterwards, my life was chaos inside, but outside, I had to show the face of iron that has become mine. Whenever there is a matter of any seriousness, I don't show a face of softness and compassion, it's of iron determination.
For years, I have frankly gloated that I was immune to such problems. Many times, I thought myself better than other people because I didn't suffer from human problems. I suffered from intellectual and 'higher order' concerns. I didn't have to worry about people dying because I turned life into this materialistic framework that focused around the fact that we live and we die. I didn't have to worry about feelings because they were only biochemical impulses shooting between synapses. I didn't have relationships (realistically, I still don't).
As many of you can see, that power is eroding quickly, and I am not sure how long I can maintain my composure. Two things are all that is left from flooding my life in torture: fear and...doubt. It's more the fear than the doubt, because there are some people whose knowledge of these affairs would not frighten me, because I believe in their genuineness. Although, there is another lie, because Karin (probably one of only two or three faithful readers of my life) is one of those people who I think I could explain all of this to. I had the chance tonight, but I backed out.
It's so ironic, that I, the stoic, he who has always destroyed himself for the sake of his reputation, he who has always claimed to be unafraid of taking any position contrary to society, is now drowning in it. I put on a good show, but I'm paralyzed. There isn't an explosion powerful enough to remove these problems any longer. As I sit here writing, I want to cry, I want to run down the street screaming, but I can't. Like a lie that is told over and over again, I've simply said to myself "I'm above emotions" enough that my body thinks so, even when my mind finally realizes that that is all a lie.
Oh, the world will know, and it kills me, because I know that it will hurt other people. That's one of the two parts of fear that possesses me. The first is the fear of consequences that will come back against me. Every action involves consequences, but it is characteristics that invoke the strongest ones, because they lead to legacies. Actions can reflect personal characteristics, for example, if you say that it is justifiable to lie to a supervisor, then that says you're untrustworthy and you are treated as such. I can't imagine my position justifiable enough to expose myself to censure. Every facet of my being would be questioned, my genuineness under assault, and my reputation wasted. Ray, the iron rod, the fortress of steel, the unbreakable, inside, is afraid, weak, and helpless...ready to shatter at a moment's notice.
The other part is the fear of what this knowledge would do to people that I love. This, I can see, would only have negative consequences. In some cases, I would lose the people that I love. In others, I would crush something in them, I would kill flowers that would never again bloom. How could I cause my family such pain? Who could willingly go to his family and friends and just shred everything? They would be hurt by the lies, the shattered image of me...and I don't want to cause them to feel pain. I would rather endure this suffering my entire life than to harm them in any way.
If I were religious, I would go with the "put it in God's hands" thing, but I really think now in my life that doing that is nothing more than what I'm doing now--ignoring the problem.
A Haiku
These days are so dark.
My heart beats unrelenting...
The day turns again.
I mean, seriously, how much do people know about me? I seriously considered ending all of the pretense today, but it's not time. I have such a hard time, because I have the capacity to inflict such pain, such intense, emotional pain that it would call into question my humanity.
Who I am today is because of who I am not. I am not a person built around affirmations, but rather negations. Instead of going out and defining myself as "smart, emotionally strong", and whatever other adjective of which you can think, my life have alwasy been built around me saying "I'm not stupid. I'm not weak."
I can't be weak. I took that on a long time ago. The last time I ever cried was when my dad was diagnosed with MS. After that, I determined that I could never show emotions again, because I was supposed to be the citadel in which my family could find their strength. It's so fucking ridiculous, but it's true. In those months afterwards, my life was chaos inside, but outside, I had to show the face of iron that has become mine. Whenever there is a matter of any seriousness, I don't show a face of softness and compassion, it's of iron determination.
For years, I have frankly gloated that I was immune to such problems. Many times, I thought myself better than other people because I didn't suffer from human problems. I suffered from intellectual and 'higher order' concerns. I didn't have to worry about people dying because I turned life into this materialistic framework that focused around the fact that we live and we die. I didn't have to worry about feelings because they were only biochemical impulses shooting between synapses. I didn't have relationships (realistically, I still don't).
As many of you can see, that power is eroding quickly, and I am not sure how long I can maintain my composure. Two things are all that is left from flooding my life in torture: fear and...doubt. It's more the fear than the doubt, because there are some people whose knowledge of these affairs would not frighten me, because I believe in their genuineness. Although, there is another lie, because Karin (probably one of only two or three faithful readers of my life) is one of those people who I think I could explain all of this to. I had the chance tonight, but I backed out.
It's so ironic, that I, the stoic, he who has always destroyed himself for the sake of his reputation, he who has always claimed to be unafraid of taking any position contrary to society, is now drowning in it. I put on a good show, but I'm paralyzed. There isn't an explosion powerful enough to remove these problems any longer. As I sit here writing, I want to cry, I want to run down the street screaming, but I can't. Like a lie that is told over and over again, I've simply said to myself "I'm above emotions" enough that my body thinks so, even when my mind finally realizes that that is all a lie.
Oh, the world will know, and it kills me, because I know that it will hurt other people. That's one of the two parts of fear that possesses me. The first is the fear of consequences that will come back against me. Every action involves consequences, but it is characteristics that invoke the strongest ones, because they lead to legacies. Actions can reflect personal characteristics, for example, if you say that it is justifiable to lie to a supervisor, then that says you're untrustworthy and you are treated as such. I can't imagine my position justifiable enough to expose myself to censure. Every facet of my being would be questioned, my genuineness under assault, and my reputation wasted. Ray, the iron rod, the fortress of steel, the unbreakable, inside, is afraid, weak, and helpless...ready to shatter at a moment's notice.
The other part is the fear of what this knowledge would do to people that I love. This, I can see, would only have negative consequences. In some cases, I would lose the people that I love. In others, I would crush something in them, I would kill flowers that would never again bloom. How could I cause my family such pain? Who could willingly go to his family and friends and just shred everything? They would be hurt by the lies, the shattered image of me...and I don't want to cause them to feel pain. I would rather endure this suffering my entire life than to harm them in any way.
If I were religious, I would go with the "put it in God's hands" thing, but I really think now in my life that doing that is nothing more than what I'm doing now--ignoring the problem.
A Haiku
These days are so dark.
My heart beats unrelenting...
The day turns again.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
What.
Well, tonight's posting has no level of liquor or sleep depravation. So far, that's an improvement over yesterday.
On the flip side, I sort of have a big problem developing that involves lots of emotions, questions, and uncertainty in life. Such as it is.
Something happened to me yesterday that I can't in a public forum describe, but it's given me a lot about which to think. It involves a lot of self probing (something I've tried to avoid my entire life) and thus riles all kinds of emotional things. (No it's not Star Trek or work related).
Everything I know is sort of on a precipice, and I'm not sure what to do about it. I thought about blogging about it, but I can't do that on a forum so public when I'm not really sure what the hell to say. I'm going to try to do it on a private blog before I go to bed tonight, but that might not be enough.
I guess this is one of those times when having friends is a good thing. I have a lot of acquaintances and people I get along with, but none of them I trust well enough for me to consider talking to them about this. I probably have three people I think that I could trust with this, but none of them are in a geographical area conducive towards achieving that goal. Everyone's gone for now.
The biggest part of the problem for me is the total lack of certainty. Having been trained as a logical, rational thinker, I would normally just tell myself to consider the question involved, formulate preliminary theses, and collect evidence that corroborates with any thesis. Unfortunately, 1), logical thinking rarely works when we talk about ourselves. We run it through so many self-defense filters, self-glorifying (or mutilating) lenses, and spiral into the realm of confusion and the abyss of uncertainty. Secondly, human beings are far more complicated than an either-or problem. We're a species of gradation along millions of spectra. On the skin color scale, I rank in the whitey white territory, but my parents are naturally darker than I am. We're not either black skinned or white skinned. Our emotions work similarly. Unfortunately, they don't work like those pre-school posters that say HAPPY :-), SAD :-(, ANGRY >:-O. If it were that simple, I think everything would work out. But instead, I have to deal with all kinds of conflictng emotions ranging from elation to fear.
And really, this is a tripartite problem of mind, body, and soul, so to speak. (I don't really know what I mean when I say soul).
What I wish is that someone would just TELL me what I need to know. Although, part of me doesn't even want to know. It's hard.
If anyone comes to Colorado Springs and you see a psychotic mess by the side of the road, it's probably me.
I wish I could be more forthcoming, but it's not really possible.
On the flip side, I sort of have a big problem developing that involves lots of emotions, questions, and uncertainty in life. Such as it is.
Something happened to me yesterday that I can't in a public forum describe, but it's given me a lot about which to think. It involves a lot of self probing (something I've tried to avoid my entire life) and thus riles all kinds of emotional things. (No it's not Star Trek or work related).
Everything I know is sort of on a precipice, and I'm not sure what to do about it. I thought about blogging about it, but I can't do that on a forum so public when I'm not really sure what the hell to say. I'm going to try to do it on a private blog before I go to bed tonight, but that might not be enough.
I guess this is one of those times when having friends is a good thing. I have a lot of acquaintances and people I get along with, but none of them I trust well enough for me to consider talking to them about this. I probably have three people I think that I could trust with this, but none of them are in a geographical area conducive towards achieving that goal. Everyone's gone for now.
The biggest part of the problem for me is the total lack of certainty. Having been trained as a logical, rational thinker, I would normally just tell myself to consider the question involved, formulate preliminary theses, and collect evidence that corroborates with any thesis. Unfortunately, 1), logical thinking rarely works when we talk about ourselves. We run it through so many self-defense filters, self-glorifying (or mutilating) lenses, and spiral into the realm of confusion and the abyss of uncertainty. Secondly, human beings are far more complicated than an either-or problem. We're a species of gradation along millions of spectra. On the skin color scale, I rank in the whitey white territory, but my parents are naturally darker than I am. We're not either black skinned or white skinned. Our emotions work similarly. Unfortunately, they don't work like those pre-school posters that say HAPPY :-), SAD :-(, ANGRY >:-O. If it were that simple, I think everything would work out. But instead, I have to deal with all kinds of conflictng emotions ranging from elation to fear.
And really, this is a tripartite problem of mind, body, and soul, so to speak. (I don't really know what I mean when I say soul).
What I wish is that someone would just TELL me what I need to know. Although, part of me doesn't even want to know. It's hard.
If anyone comes to Colorado Springs and you see a psychotic mess by the side of the road, it's probably me.
I wish I could be more forthcoming, but it's not really possible.
Friday, May 8, 2009
I'm not gloating--I'm Spock
The last few days have given me a lot about which to think. Not to mention the bottle of wine I've downed in that time. And other things that I can't discuss.
I'm a huge Trek fan. I mean, I saw the movie at the first showing. Stood in line (was #1!) for almost 4 hours. I was up til 2 AM coming up with temporal theories to fix the movie.
I'm Spock. I've always had a seperate standard set for me. I've always supposed to be the strong, rational person. I'm someone who is supposed to rise above the limitations of being human--emotion, frviolous instinct, etc.--and acheive a higher intellectual and rational level.
But then again, I'm not a computer. I've desperately tried to avoid my feelings and my emotions, but they always come back. Like Spock, I'm always a volcano, that can blow at any moment, and sense is gone to the wind.
I'm constantly torn between the emotions of being an ordinary human, and the rational expectations that everyone has for me. I'm the person who always comes up with the critical analysis, the great idea that solves the problem, or can go on the course of sense to create. On the flip side, this ruins my creativity. I don't know how many people read this blog, but did you all know that I used to be a prolific writer of non-fiction? I think I worte hundreds, if not thousands of poems twisting my lust for complexity with my passion for precision. My life was built around irony.
I know someone who is gay, and he came to accept that when he had a life threatening situation face him. He told me life is too short to avoid who you are.
Am I wasting my life trying to live up to everyone's expectations for accomplishing something? Or is it that I'm wasting my life trying to live up to my unreasonable expectations to be this stoic? Perhaps my expectations of myself have created a standard that other people think is typical behavior of me, and thus amplify the problem.
Or perhaps I've had to much wine and too little sleep.
I wish I had less fear and more conviction.
By the way, my new job is great!
I'll write more when my head feels less---groggy?
I'm a huge Trek fan. I mean, I saw the movie at the first showing. Stood in line (was #1!) for almost 4 hours. I was up til 2 AM coming up with temporal theories to fix the movie.
I'm Spock. I've always had a seperate standard set for me. I've always supposed to be the strong, rational person. I'm someone who is supposed to rise above the limitations of being human--emotion, frviolous instinct, etc.--and acheive a higher intellectual and rational level.
But then again, I'm not a computer. I've desperately tried to avoid my feelings and my emotions, but they always come back. Like Spock, I'm always a volcano, that can blow at any moment, and sense is gone to the wind.
I'm constantly torn between the emotions of being an ordinary human, and the rational expectations that everyone has for me. I'm the person who always comes up with the critical analysis, the great idea that solves the problem, or can go on the course of sense to create. On the flip side, this ruins my creativity. I don't know how many people read this blog, but did you all know that I used to be a prolific writer of non-fiction? I think I worte hundreds, if not thousands of poems twisting my lust for complexity with my passion for precision. My life was built around irony.
I know someone who is gay, and he came to accept that when he had a life threatening situation face him. He told me life is too short to avoid who you are.
Am I wasting my life trying to live up to everyone's expectations for accomplishing something? Or is it that I'm wasting my life trying to live up to my unreasonable expectations to be this stoic? Perhaps my expectations of myself have created a standard that other people think is typical behavior of me, and thus amplify the problem.
Or perhaps I've had to much wine and too little sleep.
I wish I had less fear and more conviction.
By the way, my new job is great!
I'll write more when my head feels less---groggy?
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