Proving Ground

To the reader of this, you should know by now that this is the place I drop off all my demons. Not much good comes from it. It's cheaper than paying a shrink, especially with my craptastic insurance. And what would they tell me that I don't already know? (Fuck you spell-check! Craptastic is a word!)

I thought these pills were supposed to stop me from thinking this way! What gives?

Is it my environment? My life? Or just my perception of how things are, unable to be satisfied with it? Anger Management has to do with consciously understanding that things in life don't always go the way you want them to, and that's not always a bad thing. I've told myself over and over that I have low expectations, and so when even those aren't met I become discouraged and distraught. Perhaps I AM asking to0 much from the world and the people who inhabit it. My addictive personality makes it so I never have exactly what I'm looking for, yet I keep believe the treasure is there if I just keep digging. I'm following a never-ending rainbow to a non-existent pot of gold. The leprechaun is laughing his tiny little shillelagh off.

And I don't blame him one bit.

I know all of this is wrong. Material possession doesn't bring everlasting joy. People will never give you exactly the attention you think you deserve. So becoming obsessed with these desires is foolish. Why then can't I stop?

I want emotional support. I'm needy. I'm emotional. And mankind tells me this is wrong for a man. No one has any interest talking to a basket case guy! So, like the majority of people out there, I have to repress everything. Repress my moods. Repress my emotions. Put on a mask of confidence, for that's what people want. And more than anything, I want to GIVE what people want!

Connection. Empathy. Support.

Once perhaps I foolishly believed that admitting these things was a good idea, that someone gets me, that someone gives a shit. No one ever thinks that doctors need doctors too! And if they did, that would make those doctors somehow more vulnerable, which equates to less qualified. Of course I'm being general here. This can't be 100% true. I've not found any evidence to the contrary, though I still somehow have a morsel of faith left.

My modus operandi has always involved creating, building, fixing, expressing, and entertaining. Doing these things brings me joy. Connecting socially, emotionally, physically is pure bliss. Pursuit of happiness? That's me on car with my eyes on the prize.

And yet I seem to just be chasing that rainbow.