Change is hard. Especially when you’re not clear on what all needs to change or how. I’m struggling with this currently.
A person’s not infinitely malleable. Can’t just transform oneself into anything and everything — there are limits. I’ve tried to conform to what others wanted, and the more I’ve tried, the weirder things got. Conformity isn’t my strong suit.
At this time, I feel a need for more self-acceptance rather than pressure to radically alter myself much further. Just a human being, another work-in-progress out in the crowd. Life is tricky, and people can be very confusing and misleading. Doubt I’ll ever fully master dealing with that, but how many really do? Not many. Perhaps those locked into more formulaic lifestyles find it easier since they have access to a script to follow, but no such thing exists for those out here wingin’ it and exploring. The beaten path never held much appeal for me, but I do tire of trying to find my own way through the brush. It’s all a tradeoff…
People seem to want one another to slap on a smile and play confident and to pretend they’ve got it all under control. Well, that’s just another act. “Fake it ’til you make it,” they like to say. Tried that for years and learned that faking something is just that: fake. We put on those masks so as to make others more comfortable in our presence, so as not to scare them away with our exposed vulnerabilities and insecurities. My question is why humans are becoming so skittish in this regard. Like the truth of the matter is too gritty for people to want to take in. Like we prefer the comfort of illusions to the harshness of reality. Well…we’re fooling ourselves, if you ask me. I try to fool myself plenty enough, but always it screws with my head and leads to odd and unintended reactions. Visceral responses…
This modern life cage and the various social cages therein are tough to abide by. Feels unnatural — actually, feels anti-natural. Perhaps this is evidence of the domestication project breaking down. Perhaps select individuals are incapable of being thoroughly domesticated to the level others would prefer. Because consciously working to subjugate oneself to such demands can create a private hell that winds up doing more harm than good in the end.
I don’t have any answers. Just learning as I’m going. Figuring out what doesn’t work, what won’t fit, what isn’t compatible, what exacts too high of a psychic cost, etc. Been feeling burnt out for a long time now, but still we walk on. Because that’s just life. People come and go. Wishful thinking comes and goes too. All I know is that I’m awfully tired of feeling guilty for being who and what I am. Not perfect, and not ever gonna be perfect or anything close. And so be it. Not expecting perfection from others either. Not even sure what to expect at this point.
Lost 5 lbs. since Easter. Not been feeling well, still not eating much, but at least continuing to work out. I am hurt and angry — how could I not be? Not going to pretend otherwise. Tried out a couple other local bars a couple days ago and socialized some. That went well enough. Strangers still like to chat with me, so that’s good since at least that hasn’t changed. Don’t recall much of the conversations though. Something about the military and the finance field and whatever else.
I’ve been stuck for a few years now, and it’s a question of why. Stuck on stupid, as I refer to it. My life came to revolve around this other individual and trying to find some sort of redemption through his eyes. Didn’t work. Never found it. Not sure why I placed so much stock in his view of me. Not sure why I hung on and tolerated what I did, or why he did so as well. Loneliness? Maybe. Fear? Probably. Why? I don’t know. It’s a big world out here and I guess we’re all prone to seek out a soft spot to land, a relationship to retreat into. But that wound up being reality-avoiding. I broke my own heart by trying to fit this square peg into a round hole and not succeeding. And his too in this process. Incompatible. Ultimately and thoroughly. Yet I keep beating myself up about it, like there was anything more that could be done. All was tried and all failed. Lamenting this doesn’t change a thing, I know. Not sure why we tried so hard. Love? What is love?
Didn’t want to lose anybody else. But should’ve let go a lot sooner. Turned really unhealthy.
So, what now? Where to now? Head back out on the scene, they say. Okay. Socialize and get re-grounded. Make lists of tasks and start trying to stay busier. But my mind is still mulling things over. Not yet feeling up to reading much, though when I do I have in mind to reread Erich Fromm’s book Art of Loving. Want to see how his words come across to me now, years down the road, at this stage in the game. Read a few pages of it this past weekend while visiting my girlfriend since I’d sent her a copy in the past. Fromm writes a good bit about symbiotic relationships and sadomasochistic dynamics. Interesting ideas to ponder on.
Been wanting to start cooking again, but have to wait on my appetite to be restored first or I’ll just wind up wasting food. Have had in mind to make french dip sandwiches eventually.
Been re-watching parts of documentaries that I appreciate. Listened to a couple lectures with more I’d like to get to.
Need to get out more though. Been caging myself in this apartment for a long time already. Need to go shopping for new sheets and pillows…
People want you to give the impression that you’re bouncing back unfazed, but people expect too much. Not sure where all these expectations came from in the first place.