Strike Me With Lightning, Steal My Thunder, Just Please, This Once, Leave Some Wind In My Sails

The nice thing about not existing in the 'real world' is that no one gives a damn about you. And I don't mean that in a 'my family hates me' bullshit kind of way. But for people like me, family is different, they never really see you for what you are. They see you for your strengths, and try to fix your weak points. IF the rest of the world ever sees me at all, they only see the side I wish I could kill. Kinda gives a different meaning to 'you can take my picture, but get my good side,' doesn't it? And this may seem odd to people, but it can be nice if you don't exist. When you want to hide from people it's easy because no one is ever looking. I don't have to try very hard to be alone, which makes it easy...until I realize how easy it was and how sad that really is. Chances are only the few people I asked to read this actually are, and that's fine. I never started this little experiment for anyone but myself. And yet I want so badly for everyone I know to read it. You live your life so long trying to get so far away from people, and yet all you want is all of them around you.

For a few of you, this is my way of saying goodbye. I need to cut loose. It's not that I don't like you. In fact I love all of you in your own way. But I can't do this anymore. Each of you has been either forced out of my life by my demons, or walked out of it because of your own, or a little of both. Whichever of those you think it is in your case is up to you, it really doesn't matter, I don't want or like to point fingers. But I can't live under this Illusion that I can bring you back into my life. Each of you hold a special place in my heart, or rather in the hole where my heart once was, as the piece you hold, is the piece in each of your hands, and I don't want it back. Keep it. I doubt you'll acknowledge it exists, but it does, don't get me wrong. The fact is, I gave each of you that piece of me because you earned, some by force, other more gently, but in the end you each deserve it, and nothing you or I did changes it. The fact is that life goes on, and people and friendships and relationships change, but true promises don't, whether you like it or not. In each of your case I'm not sure whether or not I regret my promise, but even if I did, it doesn't change a thing either. Anyway, regardless of how crazy you all think I am at this point, if you're even still reading this that's good enough for me.

A wise man once told me that you always have to be aware, especially when things are going well, because that's when you're closest to disaster. Those weren't his exact words, but I imagine that he knows who he is, and the point is still valid, the only difference is that I no longer see him as a pessimist. He's a realist. Which brings me to the other point for this blog. And the reasoning behind the title. It seems like I can never have one really good day. Dad, no offense, but until further notice do not say you are proud of me, because every time you do, that's when my days go south. This time with the realization that I screwed up simple addition and in one fell swoop I went from a guaranteed C or better in chemistry to anything but that. Sorry to my parents, I failed you guys again. I swear its not on purpose.

Walking to breakfast this morning I was thinking many things, mainly what happens IF I fail out of here, (which is not impossible, though not likely) and why oh WHY am I in this place again? Am I really doing the best I can, am I really giving 100% or is that just bullshit I tell myself to feel better? Am I really cut out for this whole college thing anyway?
First off, for so many reasons its not worth listing, I don't have a choice, even for the sole fact that I would rather have $100,000 worth of student loan debt and truly fail than just give up. Yes Dad I know that's stupid but IF I'm going to succeed at anything, truly succeed, overcoming adversity and all that other crap, college needs to be that first one, and even if I fail, no matter how much money it costs me, at least I will be able to hold my head up high knowing that I tried my best. And I know that I am. Am I doing the best I possibly can in every class? Not even close. But knowing and accepting that doesn't allow me to just do it. I can't explain it. It's just a fact of life. And the only person who ever even remotely fixed it no longer exists. I know I can do this. I know that somewhere inside of me there is strength. I just need to find it. And Fast. I AM however, giving life 100%, unfortunately, at this point, that's not all that important to the academic board at Purdue University, and right now they matter a lot.
But so do all of you. All I ask is not from any of you. All I request is to not always completely blow me away. Please. You can strike me with lightning and steal my thunder, but please, please, PLEASE, just this once leave some wind in my sails. At least until I can right this ship. Because that's not easy to do alone, but I'm the only one who can crew this ship, no matter how much anyone else wants to help. Eventually the mother bird has to push the babies out of the nest. I know that at least some of you want to catch me and bring me back into the nest until I'm 'more ready,' but you can't. This is the only way I can figure out how to live the life I've been given, no matter how hard it is to figure out.

Quote and thought for the day:

“Fred gets his paints out and goes to the basement
Projecting some slides onto a plain white
Canvas and traces it
Fills in the spaces
He turns off the slides, and it doesn't look right
Yeah, and all of these bastards
Have taken his place
He's forgotten but not yet gone
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
And I'm sorry, Mr. Jones
It's time”

~ Ben Folds – Fred Jones Pt. 2

“Save Me Take Me Home,
When I Come Up For Air,
Save Me Take Me Home,
When I Come Up For Air,
Save Me Take Me Home,
Over And Over Again.
Save Me Take Me Home.

Will I Come Up For Air, Come Up For Air.
After A while The Coroner is Calling Me,
Lulling Me Waving Goodbye.
I’m Out Here Alone, Oh God Can You Save Me Now?
Sinking My Heart Turns To Stone.”

~ Atreyu – Lead Sails and a Paper Anchor

HELP!

It's great when people try to help. Because they really do try. My mom and dad like so many others try to give me the answers to problems I don't have, or they insist that their one solution, which won't work for me, is the only solution. Or my counselor who is very sweet and surely cares a lot about her clients, but is so fluffy and overdone that I spend the whole time picking through the glittering generalities, and I feel like I'm at Sunday mass. For me, Sunday mass was always a gathering of people who felt that they needed more than they already had. So many people praying for things they don't need. And the kicker for me was the contradictions. These people all believe that when people die it is because God takes them because he needs them to be with him again for one reason or another. Contradiction number one is here because they claim that God is all-powerful, so why would he need some human soul to help him do whatever it is he needs to do? I'm no scripture scholar, and I have no belief that I know a damn thing about God beyond what the 10 Commandments and Jesus told all of us, but that just seems a little silly. But I'll go out on a limb on this one. The main problem I've always had with this is the fact that if someone is dying, then obviously God needs them right? So if we are praying to keep them alive, all we're really doing is begging God to not take someone from us whom He needs, right? That boils down to a 4 year old begging his mom to let him do the exact opposite of what she already told him he must do. But a lot more four year olds. In the end death is inevitable, and God will eventually take all of us, so why not let it happen when you know it is coming, where you can prepare yourself for the grief, and expedite the situation so that the dying person doesn't have to be suffering. Plus that was you aren't blindsided by their death. Maybe that's just me and my bad experience with being blindsided by a death, then again this is my blog, so I suppose you're reading this to hear my opinion, aren't you? Poor you.

However, this isn't my way to test peoples' faith, because in the end people believe what they need to believe in order to survive and thrive, me included. This is, in fact, about help. The reason I started about Sunday mass was because even though I don't get anything directly from the fluffiness, I can pick out the things that do help me from that fluffiness. However, my counselor unknowingly helped me discover something today. I always avoided going to counseling because I despised the fluffiness of it. I have always, in at least some way, felt like in those situations I was treated like a child. However, I have realized I only have myself to blame for that. It works for me exactly how she(my counselor) wants it to, just in a roundabout way. It makes me look inside myself and see the value and hope within. It helps me really see how I feel about myself and start to get at the roots of the problems I have. The only difference is that this happens because the fluffiness makes me smile( sometimes because I feel silly) and it gives me hope. And in the end that's what I need, is hope by the truckload. So in the end, I end up conforming to exactly what she wants and her plan works perfectly.

But I wouldn't be giving you my full opinion today if I didn't tell you the irony of today. Because my life, as the one or two of you regular readers will find, is full of irony. And as today is about help, this is about the irony of help in life. As many of you could probably see coming, the irony here is that most people offer a lot of help, but don't know how to receive it. I can also say from experience that the people who offer the most help(usually in the form of 'friendly advice'), are typically the ones who are crying out for it. Unfortunately this is not usually a quid pro quo relationship. Rarely do people offer help with the intention of receiving it and actually get what they expect. Yet they keep trying, not because they have too much pride to ask for help, but moreover because they don't know how to ask for what they want.

The other problem is that the majority of the populous doesn't want help. The problem with living in a country where every person can be independent is that if given the choice, most people will do just that. The empowering nature of independence makes them believe that they know everything and nothing that anyone else can tell them can help them more than what they already know. Moreover they don't think they have any problems for anyone to help them fix. It's these people that I feel for because they are different and worse than people like me. People like me are willing to ask for help, though they don't know where to find the type of help that they know they need. The others though, don't accept that they have problems, and therefore don't want to fix what they won't accept aren't broken, and of course have no idea what type of help they need, how to find it, ask for it, get it, or use it effectively. My life is full of hope. The reason my heart bleeds for these people is because their life has no hope until they become like me. And in the end that's what they need. They need that wakeup call. And all the while they are fighting the one thing in life they need more than anything else.

Quote and thought for the day:

“Nothing is ever really lost, or can be lost,
No birth, identity, form--no object of the world.
Nor life, nor force, nor any visible thing;
Appearance must not foil, nor shifted sphere confuse thy brain.
Ample are time and space--ample the fields of Nature.
The body, sluggish, aged, cold--the embers left from earlier fires,
The light in the eye grown dim, shall duly flame again;
The sun now low in the west rises for mornings and for noons continual;
To frozen clods ever the spring's invisible law returns,
With grass and flowers and summer fruits and corn.”

~ Walt Whitman