Skip to main content

Intervene.

Yesterday three of the people closest to me spoke with me about their concerns. I'll admit, they were my concerns also. But it felt so compelling to hear them say the same things I'd been saying to myself--only now with much less snark and sarcasm and deprecation as I'd used.

They were concerned with things like my life's lack of order, goals, self-respect, and other stuff. Some things I hadn't quite gotten around to beating myself up over but hearing their concern was no less compelling because of that. Like personal hygiene. How often on days off I'll just forego a shower here or there. (It's my day off, I can be a dirty bum right?? Except that, more often than not, it's part of something broader and even less savory--a general lack of drive, self-respect, and ambition for the day. So I guess they had a point in bringing it up, eh?)

They also wanted me to know they're there to help. That's kinda a terrifying offer for me; I guess I'm still pretty bad at asking for help. Half the time I don't even realize I need help nevermind need to ask for it. I guess it's good to know they're there, at least, for when I can ask for help. For when I do.

Comments

Other things that might interest you...

On aging, and fear.

To begin with, I’m not sure you’re aware of it, but I’m middle aged. Oh? What gave it away? Using a blog as my primary literary medium?¹ Hm. But in fact, the APA defines 35 years as the end of “young adulthood.” Yeah. I found out via some shitpost on twitter when I was already 35, so it didn’t sit well with me then either. But my worries about aging began much sooner than that. See, even in my 20s, I feared I’d been wasting my life. I’d struggled with school and life and everything since graduating high school, arguably sooner, and nothing seemed to be going anywhere meaningful . I felt I had a limited social life, a dead-end job, no money, no great travels, a limping love life; I was, generally, a loser, wasting away... There were none of the usual hallmarks of success or happiness. And that scared me. Would my life have been worth it if I continued in this direction? Would it have been a “life well lived” by the end? So, this is my existential struggle. Even now, as I lurch ever nea...

Changing lanes.

I was driving home in some traffic last night when I drifted, in my mind, a long way back (about 20 years) to high school. I was caught in one of those periodic traffic slowdowns as I floated back; you know, those waves of congestion that seem to pass backward through the columns of cars in each lane. (I've heard they start because someone switches lanes, and in response, a rippling emergent slowness travels backward and outward as the cars behind it accommodate the change, one by one.) What drew me back to those younger days was that, back in high school, similar phenomena of congestion took place in the halls between classes, when eddies of young humans would get caught in and around those clumps of those chatting by lockers or retrieving books. Occasionally, backups would occur when groups of people got caught in these eddies, or collided with other groups by the lockers, and slowdowns would ripple back from there. Maybe it's not exactly the same, but as I drove it seemed si...

Oatmeal is tasty.

{slurps up berry-oatmeal-deliciousness} Indeed. I need to work on rebuilding a morning schedule. I can be zombie-like enough that I'll waste a perfectly good morning, and have often slept through many. And, really, it's such a useful time of day.